Interpretation of the Printed Page for Those who Would Learn to Interpret Literature Silently Or Through the Medium of the Voice

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Row, Peterson, 1915 - 317 Seiten
Guide to improving elocution, especially when reading aloud.
 

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Seite 88 - God give us men ! A time like this demands Strong minds, great hearts, true faith, and ready hands; Men whom the lust of office does not kill; Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy; Men who possess opinions and a will; Men who have honor, — men who will not lie; Men who can stand before a demagogue, And damn his treacherous flatteries without winking ! Tall men, sun-crowned, who live above the fog In public duty and in •private thinking...
Seite 204 - tis true, this god did shake : His coward lips did from their colour fly, And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre : I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him and write his speeches in their books, Alas, it cried ' Give me some drink, Titinius,
Seite 53 - Listen, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year. He said to his friend, "If the British march By land or sea from the town tonight, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light,— One, if by land, and two, if by sea; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and...
Seite 87 - The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, The sober herd that lowed to meet their young; The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school; The watchdog's voice that bayed the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind; These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And filled each pause the nightingale had made.
Seite 237 - 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 lips did from their colour fly, And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre; I did hear him groan; Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him and write his speeches in their books, Alas! it cried, 'Give me some drink, Titinius', As a sick girl.
Seite 214 - ... Shylock, we would have moneys :" — you say so ; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold : moneys is your suit. What should I say to you ? Should I not say, " Hath a dog money ? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats...
Seite 123 - And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea. Where I will heal me of my grievous wound." So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away. But when that moan had past for evermore, The stillness of...
Seite 68 - She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty; and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And healing sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony and shroud and pall And breathless darkness and the narrow house Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart, Go forth under the open sky and list To Nature's teachings...
Seite 114 - 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 237 - O CAPTAIN ! my Captain ! our fearful trip is done ; The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring. But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies. Fallen cold and dead.

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