 | Samuel Kettell - 1829 - 432 頁
...of heaven, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread Are shining on the sad abodes of death, The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.—Take the wings Of morning—and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous... | |
 | George Barrell Cheever - 1830 - 516 頁
...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....its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no... | |
 | 1832 - 598 頁
...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...slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no... | |
 | Robert Walsh, Eliakim Littell, John Jay Smith - 1832 - 648 頁
...sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death Through ihe still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are...to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the winfs Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls... | |
 | 1832 - 606 頁
...of man ! The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite hosl of heaven, Are shining on Ihe sad ahodes of death Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The glohe are hut a handful to the trihes That slumher in its hosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the... | |
 | Bela Bates Edwards - 1833 - 892 頁
...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....its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods "Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no... | |
 | 1834 - 402 頁
...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....slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no... | |
 | 1834 - 440 頁
...of heaven, Through the still lapse of apes. All that tread Are shining on the sad abodes of death, The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.—Take the wings Of morning—and the Barcan desert pierce, Where rolls the Orogon, and hears... | |
 | John Pierpont - 1835 - 484 頁
...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....its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no... | |
 | John Pierpont - 1835 - 484 頁
...heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that treat TLe globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber...its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no... | |
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All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. 
