C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


  • The emigrant’s way o’er the western desert is mark’d by
  • Camp-fires long consum’d and bones that bleach in the sunshine.
  • Longfellow.

  • Beheld the duteous son, the sire decayed,
  • The modest matron, and the blushing maid,
  • Forc’d from their homes, a melancholy train,
  • To traverse climes beyond the western main.
  • Goldsmith.

  • Let us depart! the universal sun
  • Confines not to one land his blessed beams;
  • Nor is man rooted, like a tree, whose seed
  • The winds on some ungenial soil have cast
  • There, where it cannot prosper.
  • Southey.

  • Down where yon anch’ring vessel spreads the sail,
  • That, idly waiting, flaps with every gale,
  • Downward they move, a melancholy band,
  • Pass from the shore and darken all the strand.
  • Goldsmith.

  • Good heav’n! what sorrows gloom’d that parting day,
  • That call’d them from their native walks away,
  • When the poor exiles, ev’ry pleasure past,
  • Hung round the bow’rs, and fondly look’d their last,
  • And took a long farewell, and wish’d in vain,
  • For seats like these beyond the western main,
  • And shudd’ring still to face the distant deep,
  • Return’d and wept, and still return’d to weep.
  • Goldsmith.

  • I hear the tread of pioneers
  • Of nations yet to be,
  • The first low wash of waves where soon
  • Shall roll a human sea.
  • Whittier.