Lessons in Elocution: Or, A Selection of Pieces in Prose and Verse, for the Improvement of Youth in Reading and Speaking
I. Hill, 1817 - 407 oldal
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221. oldal - Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
371. oldal - She'd come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse. Which I observing, Took once a pliant hour; and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart, That I would all my pilgrimage dilate...
245. oldal - Twilight gray had in her sober livery all things clad : Silence accompanied ; for Beast and Bird, they to their grassy couch, these to their nests, were slunk, — all but the wakeful nightingale; she, all night long, her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleased. Now...
363. oldal - All this? ay, more: Fret till your proud heart break; Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble.
239. oldal - Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault...
222. oldal - The sober herd that low'd to meet their young ; The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school ; The watch-dog's voice, that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind ; These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.
238. oldal - Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent: Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part, As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns, As the rapt seraph that adores and burns: To him no high, no low, no great, no small; He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all.
356. oldal - Why, well : Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now ; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience.
255. oldal - Orphean lyre, I sung of Chaos and eternal Night ; Taught by the heavenly muse to venture down The dark descent, and up to reascend, Though hard and rare : thee I revisit safe, And feel thy sovereign vital lamp ; but thou Revisitest not these eyes, that roll in vain To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; So thick a drop serene hath quenched their orbs, Or dim suffusion veiled.
364. oldal - There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am arm'd so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not.