School Elocution: A Manual of Vocal Training in High Schools, Normal Schools, and Academies

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American book Company, 1884 - 390 من الصفحات

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الصفحة 193 - TO A WATERFOWL. Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might. mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. . BRYANT.
الصفحة 211 - THE GHOST IN HAMLET. I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine. SHAKESPEARE.
الصفحة 342 - From these our interviews, in which I steal | From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the universe, and feel | What I can ne'er express, yet can not all conceal. 2. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets \ sweep over thee in
الصفحة 217 - TO A SKYLARK. Hail to thee, blithe spirit— Bird thou never wert— That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher, From the earth thou springest; Like a cloud of fire The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
الصفحة 364 - beetle \ wheels his droning flight, And drowsy (inklings \ lull the distant folds; 3. Save | that from yonder | ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl | does to the moon | complain | Of such as, wand'ring near her secret bower, Molest her ancient, solitary reign. 4. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's
الصفحة 378 - Flag of the free heart's only home, By angel hands to valor given, Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner waving o'er us!
الصفحة 216 - THE BELLS. Hear the sledges with the bells— Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells ! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort
الصفحة 123 - Ghost. I am thy father's spirit; Doomed for a certain term to walk the night; And, for the day, confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my
الصفحة 121 - But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, 0 Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me. 3.
الصفحة 138 - of our heavy task | was done | When the clock | struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun \ That the foe | was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly | we laid him down, From the field of his fame | fresh and gory;

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