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" All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom... "
The Poets and Poetry of America - Стр. 172
авторы: Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1855 - Страниц: 622
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Poems

William Cullen Bryant - 1851 - Страниц: 380
...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. -J-Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, • Or lose thyself in the continuous...
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The Poets and Poetry of America: To the Middle of the Nineteenth Century

Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1852 - Страниц: 588
...ages. AH thai Iread The glol>c, arc bul a handful lo Ihe tribes That slumber in its bosom. — Take Ihe wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or...first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead there reign alone. So shall thou rest, — and what if thou withdraw...
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The North British review

1852 - Страниц: 620
...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 solitudes,...
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The Chinook Indians: Traders of the Lower Columbia River

Robert H. Ruby, John A. Brown - 1976 - Страниц: 400
...history along that stream. 11. The Cold Sick Take the wings Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls...sound Save his own dashings; yet the dead are there. William Cullen Bryant, Thanatopsh I T WAS THE practice of mariners entering the Columbia River to sometimes...
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Early American Poetry: Selections from Bradstreet, Taylor, Dwight, Freneau ...

Jane Donahue Eberwein - 1978 - Страниц: 398
...morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,2 Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon,3 and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet...there: And millions in those solitudes, since first M The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone....
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Essays and Reviews

Edgar Allan Poe, Gary Richard Thompson - 1984 - Страниц: 1572
...sky and list — is sadly out of place amid the forcible and even Miltonic rhythm of such lines as " }v9} Oregan. But these arc trivial faults indeed, and the poem embodies a great degree of the most elevated...
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Visions & Revisions of American Poetry(p): Of American Poetry

Lewis Turco - 1986 - Страниц: 198
...tribes That slumber in its bosom. Mother Nature seems distinctly unmatronly among such lines: ". . . the dead are there: / And millions in those solitudes,...first / The flight of years began, have laid them down / In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone, / So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw...
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Early Oregon Days

Edwin D. Culp - 1987 - Страниц: 204
...once called "the Oregon.' This is the river which Bryant mentions in his immortal poem, Thanatopsis: Or lose thyself in the continuous woods, Where rolls...Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there. The navigable rivers of Oregon were the roadways for the early explorers of the West. If the magnitude...
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Light From Many Lamps

Lillian Watson - 1988 - Страниц: 356
...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...slumber in its bosom.— Take the wings Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears...
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The River of the Mother of God: and other Essays by Aldo Leopold

Aldo Leopold - 1992 - Страниц: 400
...to consider what the sixth shall say about us? If we are logically anthropomorphic, yes. We and ... all that tread The globe are but a handful to the...That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning; pierce the Barcan wilderness Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears...
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