The Sixth ReaderCowperthwait & Company, 1872 - 408 |
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Strona 15
... HEARD , UNDERSTOOD , AND FELT . To do this , however , do not overstrain the voice nor pitch its tones too high . Be correct but not over - nice in the enunciation . Do not mistake theatrical bluster for expressive reading . 15 8 ...
... HEARD , UNDERSTOOD , AND FELT . To do this , however , do not overstrain the voice nor pitch its tones too high . Be correct but not over - nice in the enunciation . Do not mistake theatrical bluster for expressive reading . 15 8 ...
Strona 25
... heard a voice saying , " Shall mōrtal mān be`mōre jūst than Gōd ? Shall a man be mōre pūre than his Māker ? ” 66 4. Come to thy God in time , " Thus saith the ocean chime ; " Stōrm , whirlwind , billows past , Come to thy Gōd at last ...
... heard a voice saying , " Shall mōrtal mān be`mōre jūst than Gōd ? Shall a man be mōre pūre than his Māker ? ” 66 4. Come to thy God in time , " Thus saith the ocean chime ; " Stōrm , whirlwind , billows past , Come to thy Gōd at last ...
Strona 26
... heard the owl scream , and the crickets cry . Did not you speak ? Macb . When ? Lady M. Now . Mach . As I descénded ? Lady M. Ay . Macb . Hark ! Who lies i ' the second chamber ? Lady M. Donalbain . Enter Lady Macbeth , with a Taper . 5 ...
... heard the owl scream , and the crickets cry . Did not you speak ? Macb . When ? Lady M. Now . Mach . As I descénded ? Lady M. Ay . Macb . Hark ! Who lies i ' the second chamber ? Lady M. Donalbain . Enter Lady Macbeth , with a Taper . 5 ...
Strona 45
... HEARD IN THE COUNTRY . Down the rough slope the ponderous wagon rings ; Through rustling corn the hàre astonished springs ; Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hòur ; The partridge bursts away on whirring wings . 13. LABORIOUS AND ...
... HEARD IN THE COUNTRY . Down the rough slope the ponderous wagon rings ; Through rustling corn the hàre astonished springs ; Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hòur ; The partridge bursts away on whirring wings . 13. LABORIOUS AND ...
Strona 48
... heard him calling , “ Mòther , " And " Ábner , fetch a bròcm . " He stamped his feet in the entry , And brushed his homespun clòthes . " Well , bóys . " " Good - èvening , Reuben , What news to - night ? " " It snows ! " ( 6 3. “ He has ...
... heard him calling , “ Mòther , " And " Ábner , fetch a bròcm . " He stamped his feet in the entry , And brushed his homespun clòthes . " Well , bóys . " " Good - èvening , Reuben , What news to - night ? " " It snows ! " ( 6 3. “ He has ...
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Popularne fragmenty
Strona 57 - Shylock, we would have moneys : ' you say so ; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold : moneys is your suit. What should I say to you ? Should I not say ' Hath a dog money ? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats...
Strona 91 - Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.
Strona 114 - I WIND about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling...
Strona 360 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: — not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play — Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow — Such as creation's dawn beheld thou rollest now.
Strona 360 - The armaments which thunder-strike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ; These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.
Strona 343 - When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast ; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Strona 377 - To the very moment that he bade me tell it : Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field ; Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach...
Strona 344 - The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
Strona 255 - All this? ay, more: Fret till your proud heart break; Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble.
Strona 49 - The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter 'Little Prig; Bun replied, 'You are doubtless very big; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry. I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track; Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you...