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" In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, 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,... "
A Compendium of English Literature: Chronologically Arranged, from Sir John ... - Page 380
by Charles Dexter Cleveland - 1862 - 776 pages
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The Wheat-sheaf; Or, Gleanings for the Wayside and Fireside ...

American literature - 1853 - 416 pages
...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 The globe are but a handful to the tribe. That slumber in its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or...
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Handbook of the Fort Hill Cemetery: Containing Information Respecting the ...

Fort Hill Cemetery Association - Auburn (N.Y.) - 1853 - 127 pages
...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 The globe are but a handful tn the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings THE DEDICATION. Of morning, and the Barcan...
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A System of Elocution: With Special Reference to Gesture, to the Treatment ...

Andrew Comstock - Elocution - 1853 - 364 pages
...of mar^. | The golden sun,, | The planets, | all the infinite host of heav'n, | Are shining on the sad , abodes" of death, | Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe , | are but , a hand'fuP | to the tribes Thai slumber in its bosom. | Take the wings Of morn'ing, | and the Barcan...
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The Heavenly Home: Or, the Employments and Enjoyments of the Saints in Heaven

Henry Harbaugh - Future life - 1853 - 365 pages
...one-fifth as many as the present, there would have died in all twentyeight thousands of millions. Truly, " All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom." Considering that one-half of the race die in infancy, we have the number of fourteen thousands of millions...
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McGuffey's Newly Revised Rhetorical Guide, Or, Fifth Reader of the Eclectic ...

William Holmes McGuffey - Readers (Elementary) - 1853 - 480 pages
...infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still + lapse of ages. 6. All that tread The globe, are but a handful, to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Takeithe wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the "''continuous woods...
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The Yale Literary Magazine, Volume 18

1853
...centuries. So stand the generations of men upon the burial places of other times, and heed it not. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. * * * * And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down...
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American Classical Authors

Ludwig Herrig - American literature - 1854 - 553 pages
...great tomb of man. The golden sun, Tlie planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages....slumber in its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears...
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Hall's Journal of Health, Volume 36

1889
...surface of our earth has been dug over one hundred and twenty-eight times to bury its dead. Truly. "All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom." John Stuart Mill likewise writes : '-The power of multiplication inherent in all organic life may be...
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The Guardian, Volume 5

Conduct of life - 1854
...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...
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Poems, Volume 1

William Cullen Bryant - 1855 - 264 pages
...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....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...
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