The New Speaker. With an Essay on ElocutionSaunders, Otley, and Company, 1861 - 395 pages |
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Page 156
... sweet entrancing voice he lov'd the best . They would have thought , who heard the strain , They saw in Tempe's vale her native maids , Amidst the festal - sounding shades , To some unwearied minstrel dancing , While , as his flying ...
... sweet entrancing voice he lov'd the best . They would have thought , who heard the strain , They saw in Tempe's vale her native maids , Amidst the festal - sounding shades , To some unwearied minstrel dancing , While , as his flying ...
Page 164
... A present deity ! the vaulted roofs rebound : With ravish'd ears The monarch hears , Assumes the god , Affects to nod , And seems to shake the spheres . The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung Of 164 THE NEW SPEAKER .
... A present deity ! the vaulted roofs rebound : With ravish'd ears The monarch hears , Assumes the god , Affects to nod , And seems to shake the spheres . The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung Of 164 THE NEW SPEAKER .
Page 165
... Sweet the pleasure , Sweet is pleasure after pain . Sooth'd with the sound , the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again ; And thrice he routed all his foes ; and thrice he slew the slain , The master saw the madness rise ...
... Sweet the pleasure , Sweet is pleasure after pain . Sooth'd with the sound , the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again ; And thrice he routed all his foes ; and thrice he slew the slain , The master saw the madness rise ...
Page 166
... sweet , in Lydian measures , Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures ; War , he sung , is toil and trouble , Honour but an empty bubble ; Never ending , still beginning Fighting still , and still destroying : If the world be worth thy ...
... sweet , in Lydian measures , Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures ; War , he sung , is toil and trouble , Honour but an empty bubble ; Never ending , still beginning Fighting still , and still destroying : If the world be worth thy ...
Page 168
... sweet enthusiast , from her sacred store , Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds , And added length to solemn sounds , With nature's mother - wit , and arts unknown before . Let old Timotheus yield the prize , Or both divide the crown ; He ...
... sweet enthusiast , from her sacred store , Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds , And added length to solemn sounds , With nature's mother - wit , and arts unknown before . Let old Timotheus yield the prize , Or both divide the crown ; He ...
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Common terms and phrases
accent Angel arms Arnald articulation Balta beauty blood body brave breast breath brow BYRON Cæsar Cicero circumflex Clusium consonants dark death defects delivery Demosthenes diphthongal dread earth Elocution English language Erin go Bragh eyes falling inflection father feel fingers foot genius gesture glory grace Greece ground Gryba hand happy hath head heard heart heaven honour human language Lars Porsena letter light lips Lord Lord Byron LORD CHATHAM loud Macedon mind nature never night o'er orator Otley passion pause pleasure position pronounced pronunciation Quintilian rising inflection Samian wine Scythians sense sentence Shakspere soft soul sound speaker speaking spirit Steel gauntlet stood sublime sweet sword syllabic emphasis syllable tears thee things thou thought tion tone tongue utterance voice vols vowel wave wild words wound youth
Popular passages
Page 250 - The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
Page 179 - I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky ; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores ; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air...
Page 229 - Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss. Though winning near the goal — yet do not grieve: She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss; For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; And happy melodist, unwearied, For ever piping songs for ever new; More happy love!
Page 358 - Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth ; as which of you shall not ? With this I depart ; that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Page 357 - 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.
Page 237 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed...
Page 135 - But the Consul's brow was sad, And the Consul's speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, And darkly at the foe. " Their van will be upon us Before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge. What hope to save the town...
Page 238 - Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee — Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they { Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts : — not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play — Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow — Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Page 216 - Come, pensive Nun, devout and pure, ' Sober, steadfast, and demure, All in a robe of darkest grain, Flowing with majestic train, And sable stole of cypress lawn Over thy decent shoulders drawn. Come; but keep thy wonted state, With even step, and musing gait, And looks commercing with the skies, Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes...
Page 252 - Must we but weep o'er days more blest ? 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...