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" Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the 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 laid them down In their last sleep: the dead... "
The American First Class Book: Or, Exercises in Reading and Recitation ... - Seite 257
von John Pierpont - 1835 - 480 Seiten
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The American First Class Book, Or, Exercises in Reading and Recitation

John Pierpont - 1823 - 492 Seiten
...heaven, , Are ginning 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...woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, 22 * 2S8 THE AMERICAN (Lew<ra 11T. Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there, And millions...
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Kettell, Samuel: Specimens of American Poetry...

1829 - 436 Seiten
...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 That slumber...dashings— yet— the dead are there, And millions hi those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep...
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The Edinburgh Literary Journal: Or, Weekly Register of Criticism and ..., Band 2

1829 - 516 Seiten
...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 That slumber...and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the contiguous woods, Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound Save his own dashings— vet the dead...
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The Edinburgh Literary Journal: Or, Weekly Register of Criticism and ..., Band 2

1829 - 520 Seiten
...its bosom. Take the wingg Of momipg, and the Barcnn desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the contiguous woods, Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound...are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since (irst The flight of vcars began, have laid them down In their last sleep— the dead reign there alone....
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Specimens of American Poetry: With Critical and Biographical Notices ..., Band 3

Samuel Kettell - 1829 - 432 Seiten
...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...rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings—yet—the dead are there, And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years...
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English Grammar, with an Improved Syntax

J. M. Putnam - 1831 - 174 Seiten
...pierce, Or loose thyself in the contmuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save Iiis own dashings, — yet the dead are there, And millions...in those solitudes, since first The flight of years bega*u, hare laid them down In their last sleep ; the dead reign there alone. So shalt them rest—...
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The Foreign Quarterly Review, Band 5;Band 10

1832 - 604 Seiten
...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 That slumber...continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their...
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The Cambridge Book of Poetry and Song

Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - 1022 Seiten
...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 That slumber In its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning, traverse Barca's desert sands, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and...
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Selections from the American Poets: With Some Introductory Remarks

1834 - 402 Seiten
...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 That slumber...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings ; yet — the dead are there ; And millions in those...
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Selections from the American Poets: With Some Introductory Remarks

1834 - 406 Seiten
...heaven, Are shining on the ad 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. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barean desert pieree ; Or lose thyself in the eontinuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no...
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