The scientific reader and practical elocutionist

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Seite 119 - And now I'm in the world alone, Upon the wide, wide sea: But why should I for others groan, When none will sigh for me? Perchance my dog will whine in vain, Till fed by stranger ,hands; But long ere I come back again, He'd tear me where he stands.
Seite 173 - ... the infidel savage — against whom ? against your Protestant brethren ; to lay waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their race and name with these horrible hell-hounds of savage war — hell-hounds, I say, of savage war!
Seite 117 - Eternal HOPE ! when yonder spheres sublime Peal'd their first notes to sound the march of Time, Thy joyous youth began — but not to fade. — When all the sister planets have...
Seite 126 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh ; The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.
Seite 168 - Bid him disband his legions, Restore the commonwealth to liberty, Submit his actions to the public censure, And stand the judgment of a Roman senate. Bid him do this, and Cato is his friend.
Seite 165 - Which of the two to choose, slavery or death ! No, let us rise at once, gird on our swords, And, at the head of our remaining troops, Attack the foe, break through the thick array Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon him. Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest, May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.
Seite 117 - The strife is o'er — the pangs of Nature close, And life's last rapture triumphs o'er her woes. Hark ! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze, The noon of Heaven undazzled by the blaze, On Heavenly winds that waft her...
Seite 95 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Seite 122 - Come, brightly wafting through the gloom Our Peace-branch from above ? Then sorrow, touched by Thee, grows bright With more than rapture's ray ; As darkness shows us worlds of light We never saw by day...
Seite 163 - I've had wrongs To stir a fever in the blood of age, Or make the infant's sinews strong as steel. This day's the birth of sorrow ; this hour's work Will breed proscriptions ! Look to your hearths, my Lords! For there, henceforth, shall sit, for household gods, Shapes hot from Tartarus ; all shames and crimes ; Wan Treachery, with his thirsty dagger drawn ; Suspicion, poisoning his brother's cup ; Naked Rebellion, with the torch and axe, Making his wild sport of your blazing thrones; Till Anarchy...

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