The Elocutionist: A Collection of Pieces in Prose and Verse, Peculiarly Adapted to Display the Art of Reading |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 31 találatból.
17. oldal
... sweet and gracious goddess ! whom all , in public or in private , wor- ship ; whose taste is grateful , and ever will be so , till Na- ture herself shall change . No tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle , or chemic power turn thy ...
... sweet and gracious goddess ! whom all , in public or in private , wor- ship ; whose taste is grateful , and ever will be so , till Na- ture herself shall change . No tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle , or chemic power turn thy ...
19. oldal
... sweet is the voice I hear . - It is the voice of Alpin , the son of song , mourning for the dead . Bent is his head of age , and red his tearful eye.- Alpin , thou son of song , why alone on the silent hill ? Why complainest thou as a ...
... sweet is the voice I hear . - It is the voice of Alpin , the son of song , mourning for the dead . Bent is his head of age , and red his tearful eye.- Alpin , thou son of song , why alone on the silent hill ? Why complainest thou as a ...
27. oldal
... sweet vicissitude of seasons ; the rain and the dew descending from above , and the fruitfulness of the earth caused by them ; the bow bent by the hands of the Most High , which compasseth the heavens about with a glorious circle ; the ...
... sweet vicissitude of seasons ; the rain and the dew descending from above , and the fruitfulness of the earth caused by them ; the bow bent by the hands of the Most High , which compasseth the heavens about with a glorious circle ; the ...
43. oldal
... sweet face thine own , William , did once so much resemble . Long wert thou the joy , the pride of my soul , —ay , too much the pride ! for there was not in all the parish such a man , such a son , as my own William . If thy heart has ...
... sweet face thine own , William , did once so much resemble . Long wert thou the joy , the pride of my soul , —ay , too much the pride ! for there was not in all the parish such a man , such a son , as my own William . If thy heart has ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
arms Bacchus battle beauty behold beneath Black Crows blood Bolus bosom brave breast breath bright brow Brutus bull Cæsar Chirsty clouds cried dark dead death deep delight dread earth Eliza Cook ERIN GO BRAGH eyes fair faithful father fear fire Gelert glory grave Greece hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry of Navarre honour hope hour king Laird land light live Lochiel Lochinvar lonely look look'd Lord loud mind morning Mount Lebanon ne'er Netherby never night o'er pale pass'd peace pibroch plain pride rage roar round Sally Brown shore sigh sleep smile soul sound spear spirit stars stood storm stream sweet sword tears tell tempest thee thing thou thought thunder tremble Twas uncle Toby voice waves weep wild wind words young
Népszerű szakaszok
236. oldal - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide; To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame...
xvii. oldal - HIGH on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat...
245. 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 Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness...
351. oldal - This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors...
329. oldal - Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: Here we may reign secure, and in my choice To reign is worth ambition though in Hell : Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.
235. oldal - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees, the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke : How jocund did they drive their team afield...
173. oldal - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower.
350. oldal - Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; And Brutus is an honourable man. You all did see, that on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ? Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; And, sure, he is an honourable man.
216. oldal - Far flashed the red artillery ! But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy.
349. oldal - No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...