 Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings, yet the dead are there...  Poems - Página 32por William Cullen Bryant - 1847 - 371 páginasVisualização integral - Acerca deste livro
 | Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - 1022 páginas
...morning, traverse Barca's desert sands, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet...there: And millions in those solitudes, since first The night of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep; the dead reign there alone. So shalt... | |
 | 1832 - 606 páginas
...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 Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods W here rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound Save his own dashings ; yet the dead are there, And millious... | |
 | 1834 - 402 páginas
...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,...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... | |
 | 1837 - 830 páginas
...amid the forcible and even Miltonic rhythm of such lines as Take the wings Of morning, and the Barran desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan. But these arc trivial faults indeed, and the poem embodies a great degree of the most elevated beauty.... | |
 | 1834 - 406 páginas
...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... | |
 | 1836 - 268 páginas
...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...Where 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... | |
 | 1836 - 362 páginas
...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,...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his owndashings; yet — the dead are there; And millions in those... | |
 | Louisa Caroline Tuthill - 1839 - 482 páginas
...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,...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings ; yet — the dead are there, Anil millions in those... | |
 | William Cullen Bryant - 1840 - 292 páginas
...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...woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, THANATOPSIS. 33 Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes,... | |
 | John Keese - 1840 - 304 páginas
...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,...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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