Elocution; Or, Mental and Vocal Philosophy: Involving the Principles of Reading and Speaking; and Designed for the Development and Cultivation of Both Body and Mind ... Illustrated by Two Or Three Hundred Choice Anecdotes; Three Thousand Oratorical and Poetical Readings; Five Thousand Proverbs, Maxims and Laconics, and Several Hundred Elegant Engravings
Morton & Griswold, 1845 - 368 pàgines
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Elocution, Or, Mental and Vocal Philosophy: Involving the Principles of ...
C. P. Bronson
Visualització completa - 1845
accent action Anecdote appear asked beauty become better body breath called cause character death duty earth effect evil expression eyes fall fear feel fire fool give hand happy head hear heart heaven hence honor hope hour human important keep kind knowledge language leave light live look manner means mind nature never Notes object observed once pass passions perfect person pleasure practice present principles produce proper Proverbs reason replied rich rise round rules sense soul sound speak spirit sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought tion true truth turn Varieties virtue voice vowel whole wise wish youth
Pàgina 301 - And this is in the night. — Most glorious night ! Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delight — A portion of the tempest and of thee! How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! And now again 'tis black — and now the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.
Pàgina 262 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness: And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts; and choking sighs. Which ne'er might be repeated...
Pàgina 240 - 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. Ye gods, it doth amaze me A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world And bear the palm alone. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Pàgina 252 - And sir, where American Liberty raised its first voice; and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it — if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it — if folly and madness — if uneasiness, under salutary and necessary restraint — shall succeed...
Pàgina 309 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land ? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth ; There was manhood's brow, serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar ? Bright jewels of the mine ? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod ; They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God.
Pàgina 249 - It is accomplished. The deed is done. He retreats, retraces his steps to the window, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes. He has done the murder — no eye has seen him, no ear has heard him. The secret is his own, and it is safe!
Pàgina 310 - This many summers in a sea of glory; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Pàgina 249 - Meantime, the guilty soul cannot keep its own secret. It is false to itself; or rather it feels an irresistible impulse of conscience to be true to itself. It labors under its guilty possession, and knows not what to do with it. The human heart was not made for the residence of such an inhabitant.
Pàgina 293 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.