The Exhibition Speaker: Containing Farces, Dialogues, and Tableaux : with Exercises for Declamation in Prose and Verse, Also a Treatise on Oratory and Elocution, Hints on Dramatic Characters, Costumes, Position on the Stage, Making Up, Etc., Etc. : with Illustrations

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Sheldon, Blakeman & Company, 1867 - 268 pages

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Page 134 - ... twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.
Page 189 - That Union we reached only by the discipline of our virtues in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under its benign influences, these great interests immediately awoke as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life.
Page 190 - Liberty first and Union afterwards;" but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart — Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable ! Mr.
Page 135 - Hath seal'd thee for herself: for thou hast been As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing ; A man, that Fortune's buffets and rewards...
Page 134 - ... accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Page 131 - May sweep to my revenge. Ghost. I find thee apt ; And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, Wouldst thou not stir in this.
Page 214 - Islands of the Blest'. The mountains look on Marathon, And Marathon looks on the sea. And musing there an hour alone, I dreamed that Greece might still be free, For standing on the Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave.
Page 215 - Must we but blush?— our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred, grant but three To make a new Thermopylae!
Page 213 - So idly that rapt fancy deemeth it A metaphor of peace ; — all form a scene Where musing Solitude might love to lift Her soul above this sphere of earthliness, Where Silence undisturbed might watch alone, — So cold, so bright, so still.
Page 139 - And so I was, which plainly signified That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog. Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so, Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. I have no brother, I am like no brother; And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine, Be resident in men like one another, And not in me!

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