The speaker, or Miscellaneous pieces, selected from the best English writers. To which is prefixed An essay on elocution, by W. Enfield |
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Página 47
... Shone forth the feeling heart . A mutual Lame was quickly caught , Was quickly
too reveald ; For neither bosom lodgid a wish Which virtue kept conceald . What
happy hours of heartfelt bliss Did lore on both bestow ! But bliss too mighty long ...
... Shone forth the feeling heart . A mutual Lame was quickly caught , Was quickly
too reveald ; For neither bosom lodgid a wish Which virtue kept conceald . What
happy hours of heartfelt bliss Did lore on both bestow ! But bliss too mighty long ...
Página 297
Yorick replied , with a look up , and gentle squeeze of Eugenius's hand -- and
that was all , but it cut Eugenius to the heart .--- Come , come , Yorick , quoth
Eugenius , wiping his eyes , and summoning up the man within him , niy dear lad
, be ...
Yorick replied , with a look up , and gentle squeeze of Eugenius's hand -- and
that was all , but it cut Eugenius to the heart .--- Come , come , Yorick , quoth
Eugenius , wiping his eyes , and summoning up the man within him , niy dear lad
, be ...
Página 315
Was generous , honest , faithful , just , and valliant , Noble in mind , and in his
person lovely , Dear to my eyes , and tender to my heart : But thou a wretched ,
base , false , worthless coward Poor even in soul , and loathsome in thy aspect :
All ...
Was generous , honest , faithful , just , and valliant , Noble in mind , and in his
person lovely , Dear to my eyes , and tender to my heart : But thou a wretched ,
base , false , worthless coward Poor even in soul , and loathsome in thy aspect :
All ...
Página 343
What man ! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows , Give sorrow words ; the grief
that does not speak , Whispers the o'erfraught heart , and bids it break . Macd .
My children too !Rosse . Wife , children , servants , all that could be found . Macd .
What man ! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows , Give sorrow words ; the grief
that does not speak , Whispers the o'erfraught heart , and bids it break . Macd .
My children too !Rosse . Wife , children , servants , all that could be found . Macd .
Página 350
O , I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! —There is my dagger , And here my
naked breast -- within , a heart Dearer than Plutus ' mine , richer than gold ! If that
thou need'st a Roman's , take it forth . I , that deny'd thee gold , will give my heart
...
O , I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! —There is my dagger , And here my
naked breast -- within , a heart Dearer than Plutus ' mine , richer than gold ! If that
thou need'st a Roman's , take it forth . I , that deny'd thee gold , will give my heart
...
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The Speaker Or Miscellaneous Pieces Selected from the Best English Writers ... W. Enfield Visualização completa - 1804 |
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Termos e frases comuns
appear army bear better breast breath Brutus cause consider continued death desire earth equal eyes fair fall father fear feel fool fortune give gods grace hand happy hast hath head hear heart heav'n hold honour hope hour human kind king labour laws leave light live look lord manner master means mind nature never night noble o'er observed once pain passion peace perfection person pleasure poor praise present reason rest sense smile soon soul sound speak spirit stand sure sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought thousand thro Trim true truth turn uncle virtue voice whole wind wise wish young youth
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Página 342 - O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers; Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood ! Over thy wounds now do I prophesy (Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips, To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue...
Página 257 - Where the great Sun begins his state Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Página 218 - ... tis true, this god did shake ; His coward lips did from their colour fly; And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre : I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, Alas ! it cried, " Give me some drink, Titinius,
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Página 311 - IT must be so — Plato, thou reason'st well ! — Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought ? why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man.
Página 343 - I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause ; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him...