...— Take the wings Of morning, traverse Barca's desert sands, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there: And millions in those solitudes, since first The night of years began,...

...bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings ; yet — the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began,...

...bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barean desert pieree ; Or lose thyself in the eontinuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings ; jet — the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, sinee first The flight of years began,...

...mountains deliver up their furs to our hardy huntsmen. From Baffin's bay "To the continuous woods, Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings." wherever a new path of gain is opened, or to be opened, we are there with our capital, our enterprise,...

...bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings ; yet — the dead are there, Anil millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began,...

...bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings ; yet — the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began,...

...bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings, — yet, the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began,...

...bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings ; yet — the dead are there And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began,...

...crowded streets of the Chinese city, and trembled with a nameless awe — ..... " iu the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings." He has mused over the ruins of the ancient world ; temples, palaces, theatres, hippodromes, he has...

...of heaven, 40 Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Or lose thyself | in the continuous woods II Where rolls the ^Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings, — yet — the DEAD II are thire, And MILLIONS in those solitudes, since first ' 5 The flight of years...