 | George Barrell Cheever - 1830 - 516 pages
...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. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods... | |
 | 1832 - 604 pages
...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. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where... | |
 | Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - 1022 pages
...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. — Take the wings Of morning, traverse Barca's desert sands, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods... | |
 | Robert Walsh, Eliakim Littell, John Jay Smith - 1832 - 648 pages
...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 but a handful 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... | |
 | Bela Bates Edwards - 1833 - 892 pages
...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. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods... | |
 | 1834 - 406 pages
...infinite host of 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... | |
 | 1834 - 402 pages
...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. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where... | |
 | 1834 - 440 pages
...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 pages
...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. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods... | |
 | John Pierpont - 1835 - 484 pages
...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 in its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods... | |
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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 That slumber in its bosom. 
