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 pÓgines
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Elocution: Or, Mental and Vocal Philosophy: Involving the Principles of ...
C. P. Bronson
Visualitzaciˇ completa - 1845
accent action affections Anecdote arms beauty better Beware black crows bless body breast breath called character Cicero consonant dark death delight Demosthenes diphthongal divine earth elocution eloquence eternal evil eyes fair fear feel flowers fool give glory glottis hand happy hath hear heart heaven hence honor hope human inflection John pie king knowledge language larynx liberty light live look Lord mind nature never night o'er object old oaken bucket orator pain passions perfect person philosophy of mind pleasure prangly pride principles Proverbs reason replied rich round sense silent smile sorrow soul sound speak spirit sweet tears tempest tence thee thing thou thought thro tion tone tongue triphthongal true truth Twas Varieties virtue vocal voice vowel whole wise words youth
PÓgina 242 - 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.
PÓgina 205 - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is...
PÓgina 299 - The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
PÓgina 261 - Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear : believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe : censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his.
PÓgina 225 - Say there be ; Yet nature is made better by no mean But nature makes that mean : so, over that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature.
PÓgina 299 - And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
PÓgina 103 - TELL me not , in mournful numbers , "Life is but an empty dream!" For the soul is dead that slumbers And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal ; "Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
PÓgina 303 - At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is stilL There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil, Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
PÓgina 267 - An hour passed on — the Turk awoke; That bright dream was his last; He woke — to hear his sentries shriek, "To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!
PÓgina 295 - I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 0 solitude! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face ? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place. 1 am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech, I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain My form with indifference see, They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me.