The English Orator: a Selection of Pieces for Reading & Recitation |
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Сторінка 3
There was another , drawn in after years : The face was young still ; but its happy
look Was gone , the cheek had lost its colour , and The lip its smile , —the light
that once had play'd Like sunshine in those eyes , was quench'd and dim , For ...
There was another , drawn in after years : The face was young still ; but its happy
look Was gone , the cheek had lost its colour , and The lip its smile , —the light
that once had play'd Like sunshine in those eyes , was quench'd and dim , For ...
Сторінка 37
... to wisdom they consign ; The thing they can't but purpose , they postpone . ' Tis
not in folly not to scorn a fool , And scarce in human wisdom to do more . All
promise is poor , dilatory man , And that through every stage ! When young ,
indeed ...
... to wisdom they consign ; The thing they can't but purpose , they postpone . ' Tis
not in folly not to scorn a fool , And scarce in human wisdom to do more . All
promise is poor , dilatory man , And that through every stage ! When young ,
indeed ...
Сторінка 90
But I will tell thee of thy sireI'll tell thee of thy country's shame , And I will mark thy
young breast's fire , And fan and feed the flame : I'll tell thee of our Russian foe ,
Who came into our land , once free , And sent us to this land of snow To die in ...
But I will tell thee of thy sireI'll tell thee of thy country's shame , And I will mark thy
young breast's fire , And fan and feed the flame : I'll tell thee of our Russian foe ,
Who came into our land , once free , And sent us to this land of snow To die in ...
Сторінка 123
WHEN Music , heavenly Maid ! was young , While yet in early Greece she sung ,
The Passions oft , to hear her shell , Throng'd around her magic cell ; Exulting ,
trembling , raging , fainting , Possess'd beyond the Muse's painting : By turns ...
WHEN Music , heavenly Maid ! was young , While yet in early Greece she sung ,
The Passions oft , to hear her shell , Throng'd around her magic cell ; Exulting ,
trembling , raging , fainting , Possess'd beyond the Muse's painting : By turns ...
Сторінка 195
Oh , young Lochinvar is come out of the west ! Through all the wide border his
steed was the best ; And save his good broad - sword he weapon had none , He
rode all unarm'd , and he rode all alone ! So faithful in love , and so dauntless in ...
Oh , young Lochinvar is come out of the west ! Through all the wide border his
steed was the best ; And save his good broad - sword he weapon had none , He
rode all unarm'd , and he rode all alone ! So faithful in love , and so dauntless in ...
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The English Orator: A Selection of Pieces for Reading & Recitation James Hedderwick Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2016 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
appear arms bear beauty beneath blood bosom breath bright brow Brutus burst Cæsar Cassius character clouds cold dark dead death deep delight dread earth eyes face fair fall father fear feel field fire gazed give glory hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour human Iago king land leave light living look Lord means mighty mind morning nature never night noble o'er object once pass peace pleasure present rest rocks round ruins scene seen side silent sleep smile soon soul sound speak spirit stars sweet tears tell thee things thou thought thousand twas voice waves wild winds young youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 162 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What ! shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Сторінка 12 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war, — These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.
Сторінка 132 - I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life ; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself.
Сторінка 163 - Is't possible? Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?
Сторінка 133 - And this man Is now become a god; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body, If Caesar carelessly but nod on him ! He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake. 'Tis true, this god did shake — His coward...
Сторінка 182 - To die, — to sleep ; — To sleep ! perchance to dream : — ay, there's the rub ; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come. When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause : there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life...
Сторінка 77 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
Сторінка 149 - Must we but weep o'er days more blest ? Must we but blush ?— Our fathers bled. Earth ! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead ! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylae ! What, silent still ? and silent all ? Ah ! no ; —the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, ' Let one living head, But one arise, — we come, we come!
Сторінка 68 - If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii : Look, in this place ran Cassius...
Сторінка 148 - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sat on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations; — all were his! He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set where were they?