...population in all the past ; and the mind will grasp the superior number of the dead beyond the living. " All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom." The surface of the earth, so far as it is dry land, is estimated at nearly forty millions of square...

...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...first The flight 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...

...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...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...

...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...

...live are few compared with those who are dead. See how different it sounds in the words of Bryant : " All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom." 2. The ground was covered with snow. (Wrapped, mantle.) 3. In spring the leaves cover the trees with...

...Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. All that breathe Will share thy destiny. As the long train Of ages glide away, the sons of men, The...

...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 That slumber in its bosom. -J-Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, • Or lose thyself in the continuous...

...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...first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead there reign alone. So shall thou rest, — and what if thou withdraw...

...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...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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