Macleod's First text-book of elocution1877 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 30
Page 10
... best interpreter of each thought : - as gladness , bright , -- dull victory , running , sadness defeat -creeping a merry little boy , ——a grave old man , & c . Let then the student of Elocution determine that the whole ΙΟ Introduction .
... best interpreter of each thought : - as gladness , bright , -- dull victory , running , sadness defeat -creeping a merry little boy , ——a grave old man , & c . Let then the student of Elocution determine that the whole ΙΟ Introduction .
Page 29
... grave ! Wave , Munich , all thy banners wave , and charge with all thy chivalry ! Oh ! few shall part where many meet ; the snow shall be their winding - sheet , and every turf beneath their feet shall mark the soldier's sepulchre ! A ...
... grave ! Wave , Munich , all thy banners wave , and charge with all thy chivalry ! Oh ! few shall part where many meet ; the snow shall be their winding - sheet , and every turf beneath their feet shall mark the soldier's sepulchre ! A ...
Page 30
... grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done , when the bell tolled 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 ...
... grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done , when the bell tolled 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 ...
Page 36
... , The cruel , crawling foam , The cruel , hungry foam , To her grave beside the sea ; But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home Across the sands of Dee . WE ARE SEVEN .- ( Wordsworth . ) I MET 36 Text Book of Elocution .
... , The cruel , crawling foam , The cruel , hungry foam , To her grave beside the sea ; But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home Across the sands of Dee . WE ARE SEVEN .- ( Wordsworth . ) I MET 36 Text Book of Elocution .
Page 37
... graves are green , they may be seen , " the little maid replied ; " twelve steps or more from my mother's door , and ... grave we played , my brother John and I. And when the ground was white with snow , and I could run and slide , my ...
... graves are green , they may be seen , " the little maid replied ; " twelve steps or more from my mother's door , and ... grave we played , my brother John and I. And when the ground was white with snow , and I could run and slide , my ...
Common terms and phrases
arms beautiful beneath black crows blood blow brave bright brow cheek child cried dark dead dear death Donatello door Elocution eyes face falchion Falstaff father fear feel fell Finlater's Floy frae friends Gelert grave green guilders hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Inchcape Rock kind permission King kissed lady Lapstone Lars Porsena light lips Lochinvar look lord Miss Ophelia morning mother never Nevermore Nick Bottom night o'er pale permission of Messrs Peter Quince play pray Prince H pupil Pyramus Quin quoth Quoth the Raven reading roar round sarpint silence smile song sorrow soul sound speak stood sweet sword tears tell thee thou thought tone Topsy twas umbrella unclean animal utterance voice waves wild wind word Yarrow young
Popular passages
Page 37 - What sought they thus afar ? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod; They have left unstained what there they found,— Freedom to worship God.
Page 113 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull, cold marble, where no mention Of me...
Page 115 - Be not too tame, neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor; suit the action to the word, the word to the action ; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature ; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, — whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 't were, 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 74 - Cameron's gathering" rose, The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills Savage and shrill ! But with the breath which fills Their...
Page 75 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow ; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 111 - O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,* More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Page 75 - And the stormy winds do blow. The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep...
Page 79 - Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee— by these angels he hath sent thee Respite— respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!
Page 59 - BREATHES there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering on a foreign strand ! If such there breathe, go, mark him well...
Page 110 - Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the wat'ry floor; So sinks the daystar in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...