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5. Aspirated. Hùsh! hårk! did stealing stéps go by ?

Came not faint whispers near?
Pure tone. Nò!

—The wild wind hath many a sigh
Amid the foliage sere.

6. Full tone.

Her giant form
O'er wrāthful surge, through bläckening storm,
Majēsticālly cālm, would go,

Mid the deep dārkness, white as snow!
Gentle. But gènfler now the small waves glice,

Like playful làmbs o'er a mòuntain's side. Full tone. So stātely her bēaring, so proud her arrāy,

The māin she will trāverse for ever and aye.

Many pòrts will exùlt at the gleam of her màst. Aspirated. Hùsh! hush! thou vain dreamer! this hour is her


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8. Aspirated.

Hårk! below the gates unbårring !
Tramp of men and quick commands !
“ 'Tis my lord come back from hùnting,"
And the Duchess claps her hànds.

Pure tone.


Slow and tired came the hunters;
Stopped in darkness in the court.
“Hò, this way, ye laggard hunters !
To the håll! What spòrt, what spòrt.


Slow and

soft. Slightly aspirated.

Slow they entered with their master;

In the hall they laid him dòwn.
On his coat were leaves and blood-stains,

On his brow an angry frown.

9. Pure tone. O Freedom, thou art not, as poets dream,

A fair young girl, with light and delicate limbs,
And wavy tresses, gushing from the cap
With which the Roman master crowned his slave

When he took off the gýves.

A bearded màn,
Armed to the teeth, art thou; one mailed hand
Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy

Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarred
With tokens of old wàrs; thy massive limbs
Are strong with strùggling.

10. Loud. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once


Or close the wall up with our English dèad !
Moderate. In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man

As modest stillness and humility;
Loud. But when the blast of war blows in our ears,

Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sìnews, summon up the blòod,

Disguise fair nature with hard-favored ràge.
Very Loud. Òn, on, you noblest English,

Whose blood is fetched from fathers of wàr-proof!
Fathers, that, like so many Ale
Have, in these parts, from morn

And sheathed their swords for lacı
Quick and I see you stand like greyhounds in

Straining upon the start. The game

Follow your spirits, and, upon this ch Very Loud. CRY,-HEAVEN FOR HARRY! ENGLAND





ogy be'


of v



Tone of The one with yawning made reply: Indifference. “What have we séen ?-Not much have I!

Trees, meadows, mountains, groves, and strea

Blue sky and clouds, and sunny gleams.”
Animated The other, smiling, said the same;
tone, But with face transfigured and eye of Ame:

“Trees, meadows, mountains, groves, and streams!
Blue sky and clouds, and sunny glèams !"

12. Gradually How soft the music of those village bells,
softer. Falling at intervals upon the ear

In cadence sweet! now dying all away,
Gradually Now pealing loud again, and louder still,

louder. Clear and sonorous, as the gàle comes on.

13. Gradually

louder. Gradually


Ever, as on they bore, more loud,
And lòuder rang the pibroch proud.
At first the sound, by distance tame,
Mellowed, along the waters came;
And lingering long by cape and bay,
Wailed every harsher note away;
When bursting bolder on the ear,
The clàns’shrill gathering they could hear,
Those thrilling sounds that call the might
Of old Clan-Alpine to the fìght.


it. Soft Oro. Fāther of earth and heaven! I call thy name! tund. Round me the smoke and shout of bàttle roll;

My eyes are dàzzled with the rustling flame;

Father, sustàin an untried soldier's soul,

Or lífe, or death, whatever be the goal
That crowns or closes round this struggling hour,
Thou knowest, if ever from my spirít stole
One deeper prayer; 't was that no cloud might

On my young fame!-O hèar! God of eternal


Loud Oro- Now for the fight-now for the cànnon pealtund. Fòrward — through blood and toil and cloud

and fire!
Glorious the shout, the shock, the crash of steel,

The vòlley’s roll, the rocket's blasting spire;
They shake-like broken wàves their squares

On them, hussars !-Now give them rein and hèel;
Think of the orphaned child, the murdered

sire: Earth cries for blood, -in thùnder on them wheel! This hour to Europe's fate shall set the triumph




OTHING is more natural than to imitate, by the sound

of the voice, the quality of the sound or noise which any xternal object makes, and to form its name accordingly. A ·tain bird is termed the cuckoo, from the sound which it emits. en one sort of wind is said to whistle, and another to roar; a serpent is said to hiss, a fly to buzz, and falling timber to when a stream is said to flow, and hail to rattle,—the analtween the word and the thing signified is plainly discern

But imitation is not confined to single words. The works 10. joetical and imaginative writers abound in passages which

their melody suggest their meaning. These passages must, om their very nature, receive the interpretation of the voice to convey their full force. The following examples are selected, upon which the pupil may practice in making the sound an echo of the sense.

1. THE POWER OF WORDS. Words are instruments of mùsic; an ignorant man uses them for jàrgon; but when a máster touches them they have unexpected life and soul. Some words sound out like drùms; some breathe memories sweet as flètes; some call like a clarionèt; some shout a charge like trùmpets; some are sweet as children's talk; others rich as a mother's answering back.

2. A DRUM.
The double, double, double beat

Of the thundering drum

Cries, Hark! the fòes come:
Chàrge, chàrge! 't is too late to retreat.

3. WAR AND PEACE. The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar, All now was turned to jollity and gàme.

4. A GIANT. With sturdy steps came stalking on his sight A hideous giant, horrible and high.

5. RUSHING OF THE TIDE. When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves, The rough rock ròars; tumultuous boil the waves.

6. HUM OF INSECTS. The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums Hath rung night's yawning peal.


sudden open fly
The infernal gates, and on their hinges grate
Harsh thùnder.


Heaven opened wide Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound, On golden hinges turning.


Part huge of bulk, Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, Tempest the òcean.


As raging seas are wont to roar, When wintry storm his wrathful wreck does threat, The rolling billows beat the ragged shòre.

11. FELLING TREES. Loud sounds the àx, redoubling strokes on stròkes ; On all sides 'round the forest hurls her oaks Headlong. Deep echoing groan the thickets hewn, Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder dòwn.

12. SOUNDS HEARD IN THE COUNTRY. Down the rough slope the ponderous wàgon rings; Through rustling corn the håre astonished springs; Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hour; The partridge bursts away on whirring wings.

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