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 страница |
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Страница 22
... hath one , He lies where pearls lie deep ; He was the loved of all , yet none O'er his low bed may weep . One sleeps where southern vines are drest Above the noble slain : He wrapt his colors round his breast , On a blood - red field of ...
... hath one , He lies where pearls lie deep ; He was the loved of all , yet none O'er his low bed may weep . One sleeps where southern vines are drest Above the noble slain : He wrapt his colors round his breast , On a blood - red field of ...
Страница 24
... hath in every state Most need of circumspection ; most of all When she becomes a wife ! -she is a spring Must not be doubted ; if she is , no oath That earth can utter will so purge the stream That men will think it pure . MAR . Is this ...
... hath in every state Most need of circumspection ; most of all When she becomes a wife ! -she is a spring Must not be doubted ; if she is , no oath That earth can utter will so purge the stream That men will think it pure . MAR . Is this ...
Страница 25
... hath made it in his course ! And , for my heart - it beats not in my breast , It , in the ducal chair of Mantua , ' Tis not the same I had when I did sit On some wild turret of my native hills , And burn with love and gratitude to ...
... hath made it in his course ! And , for my heart - it beats not in my breast , It , in the ducal chair of Mantua , ' Tis not the same I had when I did sit On some wild turret of my native hills , And burn with love and gratitude to ...
Страница 33
... hath its hour , Its feverish hour ot mirth and song and wine ; There comes a day for grief's o'erwhelming power . A time for softer tears - but all are thine . Youth and the opening rose May look like things too glorious for decay , And ...
... hath its hour , Its feverish hour ot mirth and song and wine ; There comes a day for grief's o'erwhelming power . A time for softer tears - but all are thine . Youth and the opening rose May look like things too glorious for decay , And ...
Страница 49
... hath so discovered . ROм . Lady , by yonder blessed moon I swear , That tips with silver all these fruit - tree tops , - JUL . O , swear not by the moon , the inconstant moon , That monthly changes in her circled orb , Lest that thy ...
... hath so discovered . ROм . Lady , by yonder blessed moon I swear , That tips with silver all these fruit - tree tops , - JUL . O , swear not by the moon , the inconstant moon , That monthly changes in her circled orb , Lest that thy ...
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Antonio arms art thou BAILIE NICOL JARVIE beautiful beneath blessed blood bosom brave breast breath brow BRUTUS CHAPTER choice Comic COLA DI RIENZI dare dark daughter dead dear death Deloraine dost doth dread dream dress DUKE Duke of Mantua earth EUGENE ARAM Exit eyes fair father Fazio fear feel FERRARDO gentle GUS WILLIAMS hand hath hear heard heart heaven HORSE hour Hubert JAMES JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES Juliet king leave LICTORS light lips Lochinvar look lord Malcolm Young Mattie MIRA mother ne'er never night noble o'er Pescara piece PIERRE pray recitation Romeo rose Samian wine scene Shylock slave smile Songs soul speak sweet sword tears tell thee thine thou art Thou hast thought Twas voice wild words wretch young Zaphira
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Страница 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!
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.