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Books Books 1 - 10 of 117 on Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of....  
" Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the 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. All that tread... "
Pulpit Elocution: Comprising Remarks on the Effect of Manner in Public ... - Page 214
by William Russell - 1853 - 413 pages
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Specimens of the American Poets

Henry Roscoe - American poetry - 1822 - 283 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...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...
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The Inquirer, Volume 1

1822
...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...
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The American First Class Book, Or, Exercises in Reading and Recitation, Book 4

John Pierpont - Recitations - 1823 - 480 pages
...infinite host of 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...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, 22 * 2S8 THE AMERICAN (Lew<ra 11T. Save his own dashings — yet — the...
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The United States Literary Gazette, Volume 1

Literature - 1825
...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. So -l..ni thou rest — and what if thou shall fall Unnoticed by the living — and no friend Take...
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The United States Literary Gazette, Volume 1

Language Arts & Disciplines - 1825
...infinite host of heaven. Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through tile still lapse of ages. AU that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. So shall thou rest — and what if thou shah fall Unnoticed by the living — and no friend Take note...
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English Grammar: With an Improved Syntax. Part I. Comprehending at One View ...

John March Putnam - Textbooks - 1828 - 180 pages
...should not leave The earth without a vestige ;— Heaven decrees It shall be otherwise, and I submit. THANATOPSIS- BRYANT. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosoro. — Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous...
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Kettell, Samuel: Specimens of American Poetry...

1829
...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 hi those...
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The Edinburgh literary journal; or, Weekly register of criticism and belles ...

1829
...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...and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the contiguous woods, Where rolls the Oregnn, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead...
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The Edinburgh Literary Journal: Or, Weekly Register of Criticism ..., Volume 2

Wandering Jew - 1829
...infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still laps? of ages— all that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wingg Of momipg, and the Barcnn desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the contiguous woods, Where rolls...
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Sermons, Volume 2

Cornelius Roosevelt Duffie - Sermons, American - 1829
...planetary 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. ——Millions — since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep."...
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