De Witt's Perfect Orator: Comprising a Great Number of Readings, Recitations, Dialogues and Harangues ... Added to which are Very Carefully Composed Prefatory Remarks ... Together with a Number of Useful Suggestions as to the Stage Arrangements, Making the Costumes, Scenery ...Henry Llewellyn Williams R.M. De Witt, 1872 - 180 頁 |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 22 筆
第 27 頁
... bless me ? Were I the best , I were not ' bove thy charity , Were I the worst , I should not be beneath it ! ANT . Thou hast my blessing . MAR . Ere I break my fast To - morrow , father , I'll confess to thee , And thou shalt know how ...
... bless me ? Were I the best , I were not ' bove thy charity , Were I the worst , I should not be beneath it ! ANT . Thou hast my blessing . MAR . Ere I break my fast To - morrow , father , I'll confess to thee , And thou shalt know how ...
第 28 頁
... blessed breeze ; For a burning thought was in his brow , And his bosom ill at ease : So he leaned his head on his hands , and read The book between his knees ! At last he shut the ponderous tome ; With a fast and fervent grasp , He ...
... blessed breeze ; For a burning thought was in his brow , And his bosom ill at ease : So he leaned his head on his hands , and read The book between his knees ! At last he shut the ponderous tome ; With a fast and fervent grasp , He ...
第 32 頁
... blessed of all lands , to embellish and advance it - who can contemplate that living mass of intelligence , activity and improvement , as it rolls on , in its sure and steady progress , to the uttermost ex- tremities of the West - who ...
... blessed of all lands , to embellish and advance it - who can contemplate that living mass of intelligence , activity and improvement , as it rolls on , in its sure and steady progress , to the uttermost ex- tremities of the West - who ...
第 43 頁
... bless'd ? 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 Thermopylæ ! What ! silent still ? and silent all ? Ah ! no ...
... bless'd ? 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 Thermopylæ ! What ! silent still ? and silent all ? Ah ! no ...
第 45 頁
... blessed eyes streaming in tears to heaven ; his breathing to God a soft and gentle prayer of pardon on his enemies , " Father , forgive them , for they know not what they do , " the voice of the preacher , which had all along faltered ...
... blessed eyes streaming in tears to heaven ; his breathing to God a soft and gentle prayer of pardon on his enemies , " Father , forgive them , for they know not what they do , " the voice of the preacher , which had all along faltered ...
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appear arms bear beautiful beneath better blessed blood bound brave breast breath Cents CHAPTER CHARACTERS Containing dare dark dead dear death deep dread dream dress DUKE earth Enter eyes face fair fall father fear feel FIGURE give hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hold hope HORSE hour hundred JAMES king land leave light lips live look lord means meet mind mother never night noble o'er once pass piece PIERRE play poor Price recitation rest rise rose round scene seems smile Songs soul sound speak spirit stand strange sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand turn Twas voice wild young
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第 134 頁 - Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot; O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea!
第 47 頁 - tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night.
第 150 頁 - Shoots into port at some well-haven'd isle, Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay ; So thou, with sails how swift ! hast reached the shore, ' Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,' * And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life long since has anchor'd by thy side.
第 48 頁 - What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name ! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title.
第 94 頁 - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires ? What mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band That knits me to thy rugged strand...
第 91 頁 - And with them the Being Beauteous, Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep, Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me, With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.
第 96 頁 - All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept (As 'twere in scorn of eyes,) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
第 135 頁 - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; And save his good broad-sword he weapon had none, He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
第 50 頁 - My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
第 57 頁 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.