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 sider |
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Side 15
... live In such a wretched state as this of Venice , Where all agree to spoil the public good , And villains fatten with the brave man's labors . PIERRE ( returns to L. C. ) . We've neither safety , unity , nor peace , For the foundation's ...
... live In such a wretched state as this of Venice , Where all agree to spoil the public good , And villains fatten with the brave man's labors . PIERRE ( returns to L. C. ) . We've neither safety , unity , nor peace , For the foundation's ...
Side 37
... live in peace , And walk together free , under free heaven ; But that cannot be here - nor now ! FIO . When shall that time arive ? BER . ( bitterly ) . Oh , when- When what I live for FIO . ( timidly ) . What you live for ? BER ...
... live in peace , And walk together free , under free heaven ; But that cannot be here - nor now ! FIO . When shall that time arive ? BER . ( bitterly ) . Oh , when- When what I live for FIO . ( timidly ) . What you live for ? BER ...
Side 41
... live , they must not live ! Enter into a back chamber , L. D. F. After a pause she returns . It will not be , it will not be they woke As though e'en in their sleep they felt my presence , And then they smiled upon me fondly , playfully ...
... live , they must not live ! Enter into a back chamber , L. D. F. After a pause she returns . It will not be , it will not be they woke As though e'en in their sleep they felt my presence , And then they smiled upon me fondly , playfully ...
Side 53
... live , But wanting one sweet weakness - to forgive , Too shock'd at faults her soul can never know , She deems that all could be like her below : Foe to all vice , yet hardly Virtue's friend . For virtue pardons those she would amend ...
... live , But wanting one sweet weakness - to forgive , Too shock'd at faults her soul can never know , She deems that all could be like her below : Foe to all vice , yet hardly Virtue's friend . For virtue pardons those she would amend ...
Side 57
... Lives of great men all remind us , We can make our lives sublime , And , departing , leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time ; Footprints , that perhaps another , Sailing o'er life's solemn main , A forlorn and shipwrecked ...
... Lives of great men all remind us , We can make our lives sublime , And , departing , leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time ; Footprints , that perhaps another , Sailing o'er life's solemn main , A forlorn and shipwrecked ...
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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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Side 134 - 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!
Side 47 - 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.
Side 150 - 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.
Side 48 - 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.
Side 94 - 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...
Side 91 - 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.
Side 96 - 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.
Side 135 - 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.
Side 50 - 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.
Side 57 - 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.