The Art of Oratorical Composition: Based Upon the Precepts and Models of the Old Masters

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Schwartz, Kirwin & Fauss, 1885 - 307 Seiten
 

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Seite 300 - And he saith unto them, Be not affrighted: Ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucified: he is risen; he is not here: behold the place where they laid him.
Seite 211 - And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him, — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won. He heard it, but he heeded not, — his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away.
Seite 18 - The clear conception, outrunning the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his object — this, this is eloquence ; or rather it is something greater and higher than all eloquence, it is action, noble, sublime, godlike action.
Seite 189 - He scarce had ceased, when the superior fiend Was moving toward the shore : his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast ; the broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views, At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Seite 200 - Are we disposed to be of the number of those, who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation ? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
Seite 274 - Much impressed Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too. Affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men.
Seite 185 - She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Seite 178 - If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on ; Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii. Look ! in this place, ran Cassius...
Seite 212 - Alas! my noble boy, that thou shouldst die! Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair! That death should settle in thy glorious eye, And leave his stillness in this clustering hair! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb. My proud boy, Absalom ! B Cold is thy brow, my son ; and I am chill.
Seite 17 - True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion.

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