How to Speak: Exercises in Voice Culture and Articulation with Illustrative PoemsLittle, Brown, 1922 - 158 страница |
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Страница 12
... eyes and sense it . Step back from this position and then take it again with the eyes shut . Look in the mirror again to see that it is right . Repeat this process many times till you are able to do it mechanically . This stepping ...
... eyes and sense it . Step back from this position and then take it again with the eyes shut . Look in the mirror again to see that it is right . Repeat this process many times till you are able to do it mechanically . This stepping ...
Страница 32
... eyes ; Sleep to the singing of mother - bird swinging- Swinging the nest where her little one lies . Away out yonder I see a star- Silvery star with a tinkling song ; To the soft dew falling I hear it calling- Calling and tinkling the ...
... eyes ; Sleep to the singing of mother - bird swinging- Swinging the nest where her little one lies . Away out yonder I see a star- Silvery star with a tinkling song ; To the soft dew falling I hear it calling- Calling and tinkling the ...
Страница 33
... eyes that are weary , my sweet , For the Rock - a - By Lady from Hushaby street , With poppies that hang from her head to her feet , Comes stealing ; comes creeping . -Eugene Field . LITTLE BOY BLUE The little toy dog is covered with ...
... eyes that are weary , my sweet , For the Rock - a - By Lady from Hushaby street , With poppies that hang from her head to her feet , Comes stealing ; comes creeping . -Eugene Field . LITTLE BOY BLUE The little toy dog is covered with ...
Страница 41
... eyes of conscience testing every stroke , To make his deed the measure of a man . He built the rail - pile as he built the State , Pouring his splendid strength through every blow : The grip that swung the ax in Illinois Was on the pen ...
... eyes of conscience testing every stroke , To make his deed the measure of a man . He built the rail - pile as he built the State , Pouring his splendid strength through every blow : The grip that swung the ax in Illinois Was on the pen ...
Страница 42
... eye and pointed beard ? Well , that Is Uncle Sam . He will not seek a fight ; Would rather suffer long to keep the peace And never dodges at a random shot . But after patience and forbearance cease To bear the fruit of virtue , he is ...
... eye and pointed beard ? Well , that Is Uncle Sam . He will not seek a fight ; Would rather suffer long to keep the peace And never dodges at a random shot . But after patience and forbearance cease To bear the fruit of virtue , he is ...
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How to Speak: Exercises in Voice Culture and Articulation with Illustrative ... Adelaide Patterson Приказ није доступан - 2013 |
Чести термини и фразе
A. P. Watt Alfred Tennyson audience Bar-Lass battle blow chest consonant correct dear lad diaphragm dreams drop drum Edmund Vance Cooke Edwin Markham Eugene Field exercises explosive expression eyes Fellow My Lad flag following poems force forming France give glottis Hallelujah hard palate hear heard heart Henry Wadsworth Longfellow hold humming John Greenleaf Whittier keep lifted lips listening Little town Lord lower ribs lungs mental mouth muscles never night nostrils o'er organs of speech overtones pause pitch position practice pronounce pronunciation Recite the following resonance chambers rhythm Ring Rudyard Kipling scale short singing sleep soft soft palate song soul speaker speaking stars sternum strong strong inflection sweet syllables teacher thee thou throat to-day tone tongue too,too trying upper vocal cords voice vowel vowel sounds wild words Young Fellow
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Страница 140 - My good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure.
Страница 138 - If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, On watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools.
Страница 71 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Страница 43 - Up from the South, at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore, Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar, Telling the battle was on once more, And Sheridan twenty miles away!
Страница 70 - When Earth's last picture is painted and the tubes are twisted and dried, When the oldest colors have faded, and the youngest critic has died, We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it— lie down for an aeon or two, Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall put us to work anew. And those that were good shall be happy: they shall sit in a golden chair; They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes of comets
Страница 63 - RING out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light : The year is dying in the night ; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Страница 101 - A fire-mist and a planet, A crystal and a cell, A jelly-fish and a saurian. And caves where the cave-men dwell: Then a sense of law and beauty. And a face turned from the clod, Some call it Evolution, And others call it God.
Страница 70 - Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Страница 111 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
Страница 81 - And a feeling of sadness conies o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.