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" Amid these earthly damps, What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers, May be heaven's distant lamps. There is no Death ! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life Elysian, Whose portal we call Death. She is not... "
The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Página 99
por Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - 1914 - 689 páginas
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The General Baptist repository, and Missionary observer [afterw.] The ...

1851 - 592 páginas
...seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life Elysian, Whose portals we call Death. She is not dead— the child of our...our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule. Day after day we think what she is doing In those bright realms of air. Year after year her tender...
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The Children's Magazine and Missionary Repository, Volumen19

1856 - 1026 páginas
...We see but dimly through the mists and vapours ; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but dim, funereal tapers, May be heaven's distant lamps. There...from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead. Day after day we think what she is doing In those bright realms of air: Year after year, her tender...
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Littell's Living Age, Volumen24

1850 - 642 páginas
...seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portals we call Death. She is not dead — the child of our...from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead. Day after day we think what she is doing In those bright realms of air ; Year after year her tender...
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Echoes of Infant Voices

M. A. H. - 1849 - 160 páginas
...but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death. She is not dead, — the child of oar affection, — But gone unto that school Where she...from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead. Year after year, her tender steps pursuing, Behold her grown more fair. Thus do we walk with her, and...
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Sartain's Union Magazine of Literature and Art, Volúmenes4-5

John Seely Hart - 1849 - 934 páginas
...suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death. She ie not dead— the child of our affectionBut gone unto that school, Where she no longer needs our...from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead. Day after day we think what she is doing In those bright realms of air} Year нпег year, her tender...
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Stryker's American Register and Magazine, Volumen2

1849 - 620 páginas
...seems so is transition; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life Elysian, Whose portals we call Death. She is not dead — the child of our...great Cloister's stillness and seclusion By guardian angrls led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead. VOL. II.—...
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Littell's Living Age, Volumen21

1849 - 742 páginas
...call Death. She is not dead — the child of our affection — But gone unto that school, Where ehe no longer needs our poor protection And Christ himself...from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead. Day after day we think what she is doing In those bright realms of air ; Year after year, her tender...
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The Boston Book: Being Specimens of Metropolitan Literature

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Nathaniel Hawthorne, James Russell Lowell, John Greenleaf Whittier, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - 1850 - 388 páginas
...disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; Amid these earthly damps, What seem to us but dim funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps. There...from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead. Day after day we think what she is doing In those bright realms of air ; Year after year her tender...
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Light for the House of Mourning: a Book for the Bereaved

Jabez Burns - 1850 - 240 páginas
...elysian, Whose portal we call death. She is not dead — the child of our affection — But gone into that school, Where she no longer needs our poor protection,...from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead. Day after day we think what she is doing In those bright realms of air; Year after year, her tender...
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Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Volumen20

John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell - 1850 - 608 páginas
...life Elysian, Whose portal we call death. She is not dead, the child of our affection, But gone into Ȁ "H 1850 Leavitt, Throw and Co") Agne " Day after day we think what she is doing, In those bright realm* of air; Year after year her tender...
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