Elocution; Voice, Expression, Gesture for Use in Colleges and Schools and by Private StudentsRepublican Press Association, 1891 - 188 pages |
Autres éditions - Tout afficher
Elocution: Voice, Expression, Gesture for Use in Colleges and Schools and by ... Sarah Neal Harris Aucun aperçu disponible - 2015 |
Elocution; Voice, Expression, Gesture for Use in Colleges and Schools and by ... Sarah Neal Harris Aucun aperçu disponible - 2017 |
Elocution; Voice, Expression, Gesture for Use in Colleges and Schools and by ... Sarah Neal Harris Aucun aperçu disponible - 2018 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
angel arms beautiful bells Ben Hur blessed blood Bobolink Bobolink-bobolink-spink-spank-spink breast breath Bunker Hill monument Cæsar Celia Thaxter Chee-chee-chee clouds cried Cyrus Field darkness dead death dream earth echoes eternal eyes face feet fell feller fire forever gesture glory grave hand head hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha Jack Jonesville kape king light LITTLE TOMMY TUCKER look Lord Macbeth Minnehaha mother mountain never night nixt noble o'er passed Rajput River Ray Rizpah rock Rock of Ages roll round Shakespeare shouted silence sing sleep smile song soul sounds of music stars stood storm sweet tears Teen tell thee There's thou thought throne thunder Tommy tone Toussaint L'Ouverture trembling voice walked waves wheel Whirr-whirr-whirr whispered wild winds Winkle wonder word young
Fréquemment cités
Page 46 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
Page 27 - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.
Page 26 - The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne, Burned on the water : the poop was beaten gold ; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were lovesick with them...
Page 146 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Nameless here for evermore.
Page 47 - How like a fawning publican he looks ! I hate him for he is a Christian, But more for that in low simplicity He lends out money gratis and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice. If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
Page 148 - Hear the loud alarum bells — Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells ! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire...
Page 11 - But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized...
Page 38 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To that mysterious realm where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Page 50 - If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both That all the world shall...
Page 69 - gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! ah, fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature, Possess it merely.