...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....its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no...

...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....its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous .woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no...

...tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, , Are ginning on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages....bosom. — Take the wings . . Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no...

...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....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...

...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...

...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...

...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....its bosom. — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no...

...great tomb of man. The golden tun, The 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 contiguous woods, Where rolls the Oregnn, and hears no...

...ocean, all, Are the great tomb of man ; And all the planetary host of heaven Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages....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."...

...planets, all the 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...