The Standard Speaker: Containing Exercises in Prose and Poetry for Declamation in Schools, Academies, Lyceums [and] Colleges. Newly Translated Or Compiled from Celebrated Orators, Authors and Popular Debaters, Ancient and Modern. A Treatise on Oratory and Elocution. Notes Explanatory and Biographical
C. Desilver, 1862 - 558 oldal
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Aaron Burr Adrastus American arms army Athens battle blessings blood Born brave breath Brutus Carthage Catiline cause civil Cleon Constitution Crown dare death Demosthenes died earth elocution eloquence enemy England eternal Europe eyes father fear feel fight forever France freedom Gentlemen give glorious glory Government Greece hand hath hear heart Heaven honor hope House human Ireland justice King labor land liberty live look Lord mind Mirabeau moral Nation nature never noble o'er oppression orator ourselves Parliament Patricians patriotism peace political principles R. B. Sheridan religion Revolution Richard Cromwell Roman Rome ruin sacred sentiment slaves soul sound South Carolina Spain speak speech spirit stand sword tell thee things thou thought tion triumph truth tyrant Union universal suffrage utterance Victor Hugo victory virtue voice Warren Hastings whole words
127. oldal - Who is here so base, that would be a bondman ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would not be a Roman ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile, that will not love his country ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
439. oldal - Ay, tear her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes...
222. oldal - Never, never more shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified obedience, that subordination of the heart which kept alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom. The unbought grace of life, the cheap defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enterprise, is gone!
156. oldal - And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, Bozzaris cheer his band: — "Strike — till the last armed foe expires; Strike — for your altars and your fires; Strike — for the green graves of your sires, God — and your native land!
51. oldal - Of Law there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom of God; her voice the harmony of the world; all things in Heaven and earth do her homage ; the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power.
469. oldal - The world recedes: it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy Victory? O Death! where is thy Sting.
21. oldal - Look here upon this picture, and on this, — The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill: A combination and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man; This was your husband.
157. oldal - But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be. Bozzaris! with the storied brave Greece nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee — there is no prouder grave, Even in her own proud clime. We tell thy doom without a sigh ; For thou art freedom's now, and fame's — One of the few, the immortal names That were not born to die.
440. oldal - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness ; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated. Who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise...
128. oldal - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.