The Art of Interpretative Speech: Principles and Practices of Effective ReadingF. S. Crofts & Company, 1927 - 385 Seiten |
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Seite 80
... on with his own soul ; for as the interpreter , we are going to try to enter into that soul and make it speak truth . Hence it should help our grasp of the meaning to know that Carl Sandburg is almost an 80 EMOTIONAL SETTING.
... on with his own soul ; for as the interpreter , we are going to try to enter into that soul and make it speak truth . Hence it should help our grasp of the meaning to know that Carl Sandburg is almost an 80 EMOTIONAL SETTING.
Seite 81
... Carl Sandburg is almost an an- archist in his abiding hatred of injustices from " constituted authority ; " that Edna St. Vincent Millay has a passion for picturing plain people as they are ; that Edgar Lee Masters has a biting hatred ...
... Carl Sandburg is almost an an- archist in his abiding hatred of injustices from " constituted authority ; " that Edna St. Vincent Millay has a passion for picturing plain people as they are ; that Edgar Lee Masters has a biting hatred ...
Seite 94
... CARL SANDBURG . 3 From Slow Smoke . By permission of Henry Holt and Co. , pub- lishers , and of the author . From Chicago Poems by Carl Sandburg . By permission of Henry Holt and Co. , publishers . THE LEAGUE OF FELLOWSHIP And that ...
... CARL SANDBURG . 3 From Slow Smoke . By permission of Henry Holt and Co. , pub- lishers , and of the author . From Chicago Poems by Carl Sandburg . By permission of Henry Holt and Co. , publishers . THE LEAGUE OF FELLOWSHIP And that ...
Seite 167
... Carl Sandburg . By permission of Henry Holt and Co. , publishers . Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse APPEAL OF THE IMAGE 167.
... Carl Sandburg . By permission of Henry Holt and Co. , publishers . Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse APPEAL OF THE IMAGE 167.
Seite 168
... CARL SANDBURG . MYSTIC EVENING It had been a very gentlemanly afternoon , but there was a certain relief when the vicarage was far behind , and the evening smoke of the little town , once the glorious capital of Siluria , hung haze ...
... CARL SANDBURG . MYSTIC EVENING It had been a very gentlemanly afternoon , but there was a certain relief when the vicarage was far behind , and the evening smoke of the little town , once the glorious capital of Siluria , hung haze ...
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answer arms artist audience beautiful better birds blood body break breath bring Carl Sandburg carry changes comes Company dark dead death deep Dick dreams earth expression eyes face fear feel feet girl give hand head hear heard heart Henry hills hold hope hour human ideas interpretation laugh leaves light live look Lord marks matter meaning natural never night once pass passages peace permission person play printed reading Rosalind seemed sense sentence SHAKESPEARE side singing slide soul sound speak speech spirit stand stars sweet talk tell thee things thou thought turned understand voice walk watch whole wild wind wood young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 159 - That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly.
Seite 7 - GROW old along with me ! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made : Our times are in His hand Who saith ' A whole I planned, Youth shows but half ; trust God : see all, nor be afraid...
Seite 22 - Gentlemen may cry peace! peace! but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
Seite 145 - O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes ! O thou Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow...
Seite 193 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we ; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
Seite 83 - Here I opened wide the door; — Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore;" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore.
Seite 323 - All this! ay, more: fret till your proud heart break; Go show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish.
Seite 151 - As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him.
Seite 85 - said I, " thing of evil — prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore, Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore: 130 Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore! " Quoth the Raven,
Seite 15 - And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now cull out a holiday? And do you now strew flowers in his way, That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone; Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude.