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書籍 書目61 - 70,共 178 頁;搜尋條件:Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The...
" Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes... "
The Fifth Reader of the School and Family Series - 第 315 頁
Marcius Willson 著 - 1862 - 538 頁
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The National Speaker: Containing Exercises, Original and Selected, in Prose ...

Henry Bartlett Maglathlin - 1851 - 360 頁
...shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom....of years began, have laid them down In their last sloep — the dead reign there alone ! — So shalt thou rest ; and what if thou shalt fall 16* Unnoticed...
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The Fourth Reader, Or Exercises in Reading and Speaking Designed for the ...

Salem Town - 1851
...shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes * That slumber in its bosom....Oregon,' and hears no sound, Save his own dashings ; yet the_dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years., began, have...
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The elements of reading and oratory

Henry Mandeville - 1851 - 356 頁
...To breathe the airs that ruffle thy face And gaze upon thee in silent dream. Take the wings Of the morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself...rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashing ; yet the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years...
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Poems

William Cullen Bryant - 1851 - 371 頁
...of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. -J-Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce,...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there : And millions in...
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Merchants' Magazine and Commercial Review, 第 25 卷

Freeman Hunt, William B. Dana - 1851
...language, various in lineage, extends from " the rising of the sun to the going down thereof" — to / "The continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings." It is washed by two Oceans ; she views from afar the hordes nnd tribes of Asia, "thebiith land of the...
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The Poets and Poetry of America: To the Middle of the Nineteenth Century

Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1852 - 550 頁
...ages. AH thai Iread The glol>c, arc bul a handful lo Ihe tribes That slumber in its bosom. — Take Ihe wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or...have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead there reign alone. So shall thou rest, — and what if thou withdraw Unheeded by the living — and...
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The North British review

1852
...shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom....lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound Save his own dashings ; yet the dead are there, And millions in those solitudes,...
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Four Years in a Government Exploring Expedition: To the Island of Madeira ...

George Musalas Colvocoresses - 1852 - 371 頁
...Vancouver. These are some of the incidents of life at Vancouver." CHAPTER XX. EARLY HISTORY OF OREGON. " Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce,...Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings." NORTHWESTERN AMERICA is divided from the other portions of the Continent, by the Rocky Mountains, which...
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Essays on life, sleep, pain, etc

Samuel Henry Dickson - 1852 - 301 頁
...All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the winga Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose...rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own das hings — yet, the dead are there ; And millions in these solitudes, since first The flight of...
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The Knickerbocker: Or, New-York Monthly Magazine, 第 39 卷

1852
...when this old cap was new,' sang thus to the deep music of his own solemn harp : 'Тик« the wing« Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose...the continuous woods. Where rolls the Oregon, and bears-no sound бате his own daahings.' Well, supposing you should take the wings of the morning...
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