Exercises, Rules, and Hints on ElocutionWilliam Collins, Sons, 1881 - 130 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 14
... bear , so , from the waves of Tiber , did I - the tired Cæsar ; and this man - is now become a god ; and Cassius is a wretched creature , and must bend his bôdy , if Cæsar carelessly but nod on him . He had a fever when he was in Spain ...
... bear , so , from the waves of Tiber , did I - the tired Cæsar ; and this man - is now become a god ; and Cassius is a wretched creature , and must bend his bôdy , if Cæsar carelessly but nod on him . He had a fever when he was in Spain ...
الصفحة 15
... bear the whips and scorns of time , the oppressor's wrong , the proud man's contumely , the pangs of despised love , the law's delay , the insolence of office , and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes , when he himself ...
... bear the whips and scorns of time , the oppressor's wrong , the proud man's contumely , the pangs of despised love , the law's delay , the insolence of office , and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes , when he himself ...
الصفحة 16
... bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of . 1 Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought , and enterprises of great pith and ...
... bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of . 1 Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought , and enterprises of great pith and ...
الصفحة 31
... bear the rich hues of all glorious things ? " " Not there , Change . not there , my child ! " " Is it far away , in some region old , where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold ? Where the burning rays of the ruby shine ; and the ...
... bear the rich hues of all glorious things ? " " Not there , Change . not there , my child ! " " Is it far away , in some region old , where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold ? Where the burning rays of the ruby shine ; and the ...
الصفحة 37
... bear'st me too , so not again to mine . Welcome , welcome , ye dark blue waves ! And when you fail my sight , welcome , ye deserts , and ye caves ! My native land - Good night ! " - Byron . EXERCISE XXXVIII . STRICT HONESTY . SARAH . I ...
... bear'st me too , so not again to mine . Welcome , welcome , ye dark blue waves ! And when you fail my sight , welcome , ye deserts , and ye caves ! My native land - Good night ! " - Byron . EXERCISE XXXVIII . STRICT HONESTY . SARAH . I ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
accent arms Bardell beauty blessed blood breath bright brow Cæsar Canute Castlewood CATARACT OF LODORE child CHINESE PIG circumflex cried dark dead dear death doth dread earth Eliza Cook Esmond EXERCISE eyes face fame father fear fire Florac gentlemen give Glenara grace grave grief Grumph HAMLET hand happy HARRY hath hear heard heart heaven holy JANE John Anderson king lady land lassie light live Lochinvar look Lord loud Margate mind Moderate mother never Nevermore night o'er once ORLANDO Pathrick pause Peter Stone Pickwick QUEEN quoth Quoth the Raven ROSALIND round rule SARAH sarpint sleep Slow smile Sniggling sorrow soul Sound the vowel speak stood sweet tears tell thee there's things thou thought tone trolls for fish twas virtue voice wave weep What's whistle Winkle words young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 31 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling. By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly, grim, and ancient Raven, wandering from the Nightly shore, Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore.
الصفحة 17 - To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him as he lay along Under an oak whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood...
الصفحة 14 - I had as lief not be, as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself.
الصفحة 25 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied : Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide ; And now am I come, with this lost love of mine To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar...
الصفحة 32 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting — "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the bust above my door? Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door ! " Quoth the Raven,
الصفحة 32 - What seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death. She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead.
الصفحة 27 - Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh "Tis some poor fellow's skull,' said he, 'Who fell in the great victory.
الصفحة 16 - Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells Of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells In the clamor...
الصفحة 34 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
الصفحة 24 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.