Reading and Elocution: Theoretical and Practical

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Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor & Company, 1878 - 430 Seiten
 

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Seite 292 - Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the gate: " To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds For the ashes of his fathers And the temples of his gods...
Seite 27 - And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo. there was a great earthquake ; and the sun became black as sackcloth . of hair, and the moon became as blood ; and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind. And the heaven departed as a scroll when it is rolled together ; and every mountain and island were moved out of their places.
Seite 304 - 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...
Seite 216 - He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time : The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw ; but, blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.
Seite 412 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, . And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Seite 412 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken ! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door !
Seite 162 - In her attic window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet. Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced; the old flag met his sight.
Seite 172 - Nicholas Vedder?" There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in a thin piping voice, "Nicholas Vedder ! why, he is dead and gone these eighteen years ! There was a wooden tombstone in the church-yard that used to tell all about him, but that's rotten and gone too.
Seite 154 - In the silence of the night How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people — ah, the people, They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone — They are neither man nor woman, They are neither brute nor human, They are Ghouls...
Seite 226 - And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers; The flush of life may well be seen Thrilling back over hills and valleys; The cowslip startles in meadows green, The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace; The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives...

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