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wild-bird in spring; while her laugh, full of life, Gaiety
without any control but the sweet one of graceful-
ness, rung from her soul: and where it most sparkled
no glance could discover, in lip, cheek, or eyes, for Rapture
she brightened all over, like any fair lake that the
breeze is upon, when it breaks into dimples and
laughs in the sun.

XVI. THE SLAVE'S REMONSTRANCE.-Knowles.

with agony

remonstrance

Painful

THAT I were dead! Oh, what is death compared to Deprecation slavery! Brutes may bear bondage-they were made for it, when Heaven set man above them! but Indignant no mark, definite and indelible, it put upon one man to mark him from another, that he should live his slave. Oh, heavy curse! To have thought, reason, Anguish judgment, feelings, tastes, passions, and conscience, like another man, and not have equal liberty to use them, but call his mood their master! Why was reflection I born with passion to be free-with faculties to use enlargement with desires that cleave to high achievements-and with sympathies attracting me to objects fair and noble,—and yet with power over Humiliation myself as little as any beast of burden? Why should I live? There are of brutes themselves that Proudly will not tame, so high in them is nature; whom the spur and lash, instead of curing, only chafe into a prouder mettle;-that will let you kill them, ere Energy they will suffer you to master them. I am a man, Self-reproach and live!

XVII.—ALEXANDER'S FEAST.—Dryden.

narrative

'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won by Philip's Pompous warlike son:-aloft, in awful state, the god-like Dignity hero sat on his imperial throne. His valiant peers Loftiness were placed around, their brows with roses and with myrtles bound: so should desert in arms be crowned. The lovely Thais, by his side, sat, like a blooming Admiration Eastern bride, in flower of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, Rapture none but the brave, none but the brave-deserves the fair.

Narrative
Delight

Loftiness

Solemnity
Surprise

Timotheus-placed on high amid the tuneful choir-with flying fingers touched the lyre; the trembling notes ascend the sky, and heavenly joys inspire.

The song began from Jove, who left his blissful seat above-such is the power of mighty Love !— A dragon's fiery form belied the god: sublime on radiant spheres he rode.- -The listening crowd admire the lofty sound: "A present deity!" they shout around; "A present deity!" the vaulted roofs Haughtiness rebound!-With ravished ears, the monarch hears, assumes the god, affects to nod, 1and seems to shake the spheres.

1Playfulness

Jovially

Delight

Rapture

Increasing energy

Playfulness Watching

Sympathy
Pathos

Reproachful

sorrow

Reflection

grief

Satisfaction

Delight

like

The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet Musician sung; of Bacchus, ever fair and ever young!—“The jolly god in triumph comes! sound the trumpets! beat the drums! Flushed with a purple grace he shows his honest face! Now, give the hautboys breath-he comes! he comes! Bacchus, ever fair and young, drinking joys did first ordain ; Bacchus' blessings are a treasure; drinking is the soldier's pleasure: rich the treasure; sweet the pleasure; sweet is pleasure, after pain!"Soothed 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-1the slain!

The Master saw the madness rise, his glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; and, while he heaven and earth defied—changed his hand, and checked his pride. He chose a mournful muse, soft pity to infuse: he sang-"Darius, great, and good! by too severe a fate, fallen! fallen! fallen! fallen! fallen from his high estate-and weltering in his blood! Deserted, at his utmost need, by those his former bounty fed, on the bare earth, exposed, he lies, with not a friend to close his eyes!"- -With downcast look the joyless Victor sat, revolving, in his altered soul, the various turns of fate below; and, now and then, a sigh he stole, and tears began to flow !

The mighty Master smiled, to see that Love was in the next degree: 'twas but a kindred sound to move; for Pity melts the mind to Love. Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, soon he soothed his soul to pleasures. "War" he sung, "is toil and trouble;

Rapture

honour, but an empty bubble; never ending, still beginning, fighting still, and still destroying. If the world be worth thy winning, think, oh! think it worth enjoying! Lovely Thais sits beside thee, take the good the gods provide thee!"The many Approbation rend the skies with loud applause. So Love was crowned; but Music won the cause.

"Now, strike the golden lyre again! a louder Strong whisper yet, and yet a louder strain! break his bands of

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amazement

sleep asunder, and 'rouse him, like a rattling peal 1 Startling of thunder!" Hark! hark!-The horrid sound Energyhas raised up his head, as awaked from the dead; and, amazed, he stares around! Revenge! re- Fury venge!" Timotheus cries:-See the furies arise! see the snakes that they rear, how they hiss in their hair, and the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghastly band, each a torch in his Horror hand! these are Grecian ghosts that in battle were slain, and, unburied, remain inglorious on the plain! Give the vengeance, due to the valiant Wild transport crew! behold! how they toss their torches on high, how they point to the Persian abodes, and glittering temples of their hostile gods!"- The Eagerness princes applaud, with a furious joy; and the King seized a flambeau, with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way to light him to his prey; and, like another Delight Helen,-fired another Troy!

XVIII. THE BARD.-Gray.

Vehement imprecation

threatening

"RUIN seize thee, ruthless King! Confusion on thy banners wait; though, fanned by Conquest's crimson wing, they mock the air with idle state! Helm, nor Contempt hauberk's twisted mail, nor even thy virtues— tyrant!-shall avail, to save thy secret soul from Prophetic nightly fears; from Cambria's curse-from Cambria's tears." Such were the sounds that, o'er the crested pride of the first Edward, scattered wild dis- Fear may, as, down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side, he wound, with toilsome march, his long array. Stout Gloucester'stood aghast in speechless trance! To 1Terror arms!" cried Mortimer, and couched his quivering lance.

266

2Courage

On a rock, whose haughty brow frowns o'er old Solemn

narration

Awe

Conway's foaming flood, rob'd in the sable garb of woe, with haggard eyes the Poet stood: (loose, his beard and hoary hair streamed like a meteor to the troubled air;) and, with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, struck the deep sorrows of his lyre. "Hark! how each giant oak, and desert cave, sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath! O'er thee, O King! their hundred arms they wave, revenge on Lamentation thee in hoarser murmurs breathe:-vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, to high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.

Prophetic threatening

Mournful description

Απο

Horror

Fear

Affectionate

remembrance

Mournful admiration

Rejoicing with awe

Authority

Joy with revenge

Horror

"Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, that hushed the stormy main: brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed: Mountains, ye mourn in vain Modred, whose magic song made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topped head-on dreary Arvon's shore they lie, smeared with gore, and ghastly pale: far, far aloof the affrighted ravens sail: the famished eagle screams, and passes by. Dear, lost companions of my tuneful art! Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes! dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart! ye died amidst your dying country's cries!-No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs,—a grisly band, I see them sit! they linger yet, avengers of their native land: with me in dreadful harmony they join, and weave, with bloody hands, the tissue of thy line.

"Weave the warp, and weave the woof,-the winding sheet of Edward's race; give ample room, and verge enough, the characters of hell to trace: mark the year, and mark the night, when Severn shall re-echo with affright the shrieks of death, through Berkley's roofs that ring-shrieks of an agonizing king! She-wolf of France-with unrelenting fangs Piteous horror that tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate,—from thee be born, who, o'er thy country, hangs, the scourge of Heaven. What terrors round him wait! Amazement in his van, with Flight combined; and Sorrow's faded form, and Solitude, behind.

Execration

Intense joy

Irony with exultation

Contempt

Joyous revenge

"Mighty victor! mighty lord! low on his funeral couch he lies! No pitying heart, no eye, afford a tear to grace his obsequies. Is the sable warrior fled? Thy son is He rests among gone. the dead. The swarm that in thy noon-tide beam were born?

description

Gone to salute the rising Morn. Fair laughs the doors
Morn, and soft the Zephyr blows, while, proudly
riding o'er the azure realm, in gallant trim the gilded
vessel goes-Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at
the helm; regardless of the sweeping Whirlwind's Awe
sway, that, hushed in grim repose, expects his even-
ing prey.

Irony

description

"Fill high the sparkling bowl, the rich repast pre- Command pare! Reft of a crown, heyet may share the feast:Close by the regal chair fell Thirst and Famine Joyous horror scowla baleful smile upon their baffled guest. Heard Triumphant ye the din of battle bray, lance to lance, and horse to horse? Long years of havoc urge their destined course, and through the kindred squadrons mow their way! Ye towers of Julius-London's lasting shame!-with many a foul and midnight murder fed; revere his consort's faith, his father's fame, and spare the meek usurper's holy head. Above, below, the rose of snow, twined with the blushing foe, we spread; the bristled boar, in infant gore, wallows beneath the thorny shade. Now, Brothers, bending Revenge o'er the accursed loom, stamp we our vengeance Joy deep, and ratify his doom.

Direction

with joy

with grief

"Edward, lo! to sudden fate (Weave we the woof. Revenge The thread is spun.)-half of thy heart we conse- Revenge crate. (The web is wove. The work is done!)- Narration Stay, oh stay! nor thus, forlorn, leave me unblessed, Entreaty unpitied, here to mourn: in yon bright track, that fires the western skies, they melt-they vanish from my eyes. But oh! what solemn scenes on Snowdon's Surprise height descending slow their glittering skirts unroll! Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! ye unborn Entreaty with ages, crowd not on my soul! No more our long- Extreme joy lost Arthur we bewail: all hail, ye genuine Kings, Britannia's issue! hail!

with awe

admiration

Joyous

"Girt with many a Baron bold, sublime their starry description fronts they rear; and gorgeous dames, and statesmen old, in bearded majesty appear. In the midst a form Admiration divine! her eye proclaims her of the Briton line; her lion-port, her awe-commanding face, attempered sweet to virgin grace! What strings symphonious Listening tremble in the air! what strains of vocal transports round her play! Hear from the grave, great Talies- Joyous sin, hear! they breathe a soul to animate thy clay.

with rapture

entreating

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