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" But thou art here — thou fill'st The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summit of these trees In music ; thou art in the cooler breath That from the inmost darkness of the place Comes, scarcely felt — the barky trunks, the ground,... "
The United States Literary Gazette - Сторінка 30
1825
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Lays for the Sabbath: A Collection of Religious Poetry

1850 - 300 стор.
...no silks Rustle, no jewels shine, nor envious eyes Encounter ; no fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race to change the form Of thy fair works....summits of these trees In music ; thou art in the cooler breath, That, from, the inmost darkness of the place, Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the...
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The Farmer's Every-day Book: Or, Sketches of Social Life in the Country ...

John Lauris Blake - 1850 - 688 стор.
...The boast of our vain race to change the form 4 Of thy fair works. But thou art here—thoo fill'st & The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summits of these trees IB music ;—Thou art in the cooler breath, That, from the inmost darkness of the place, Comes, scarcely...
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The Choice Gift: Or Golden Sands, from the River of Literature ...

Sarah C. Carter - 1850 - 144 стор.
...no silks Rustle, no jewels shine, nor envious eyes Encounter ; no fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race, to change the form Of thy fair works. But thou art here — thon fill'st The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summits of these trees...
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Poems

William Cullen Bryant - 1851 - 380 стор.
...vaults, These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride Report not. No fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race to change the form Of thy fair works....solitude. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summit of these trees In music ; — thou art in the cooler breath That from the inmost darkness of...
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The National Speaker: Containing Exercises, Original and Selected, in Prose ...

Henry Bartlett Maglathlin - 1851 - 328 стор.
...stand, massy and tall and dark, Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold Communion with his Maker. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summits of these trees In music ; thou art in the cooler breath, That, from the inmost darkness of the place, Comes, scarcely felt; the barky trunks, the ground...
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The Christian Remembrancer, Том 21

1851 - 534 стор.
...on the same forest scenery, which our readers will thank us for appending to the prose description : Thou art here. Thou fill'st The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summit of these trees In music;—Thou art in the cooler breath That, from the inmost darkness of the...
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The School Reader: Containing Instructions in the Elementary Principles of ...

Charles Walton Sanders - 1842 - 322 стор.
...vaults, These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride, Report not. No fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race, to change the form Of Thy fair works....soft winds That run along the summits of these trees, music ; — Thou art in the cooler breath, *4hiy 'hat, from the inmost darkness of the place, Comes,...
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Selections from the Poets ...: For the Use of Schools

1852 - 196 стор.
...vaults, These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride Report not. No fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race, to change the form Of thy fair works....solitude. | Thou art in the soft winds, That run along the summit of these trees In music; — Thou art in the cooler breath, That, from the inmost darkness of...
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The Poets and Poetry of America: To the Middle of the Nineteenth Century

Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1852 - 588 стор.
...vaults, These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride Report not No fantastic carvings show, The boasl of our vain race, to change the form Of thy fair works....here — thou fill'st The solitude. Thou art in the soil winds, That run along the summit of these trees That, from the inmost darkness of the place, Gomes,...
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Poems: Collected and Arranged by the Author, Complete in One Volume

William Cullen Bryant - 1852 - 388 стор.
...vaults, These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride Report not. No fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race to change the form Of thy fair works. But thou art here—thou fill'st The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summit of these trees...
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