The Speaker, Or, Miscellaneous Pieces: Selected from the Best English Writers and Disposed Under Proper Heads with a View to Facilitate the Improvement of Youth in Reading and Speaking (Google eBook)

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J. Johnson, 1805 - Elocution - 396 pages
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Page 208 - I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please...
Page 357 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell...
Page 231 - But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all ; And, as a bird each fond endearment, tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Page 219 - We both have fed as well, and we can both Endure the winter's cold as well as he : For once, upon a raw and gusty day, The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, Caesar said to me ' Dar'st thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point ? ' Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in And bade him follow : so indeed he did.
Page 263 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Page 279 - Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid. Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut , Made by the joiner squirrel , or old grub , Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
Page 248 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 205 - The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Page 331 - ... all Nature cries aloud Through all her works), he must delight in virtue ; And that which he delights in must be happy. But when, or where ? — This world was made for Caesar.
Page 323 - Join voices all ye living souls: Ye birds, That singing up to heaven-gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade, Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.

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