The elementary elocutionist: a selection of pieces in prose and verse, by J. White

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1826
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205 psl. - KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime...
238 psl. - Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee — Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts — not so thou Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves
245 psl. - They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun; But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. "Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, And our good Prince Eugene.
232 psl. - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
218 psl. - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms — the day Battle's magnificently stern array...
283 psl. - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
253 psl. - As awaked from the dead, And amazed he stares around. Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise ! See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes!
253 psl. - Think, O think it worth enjoying! Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the gods provide thee!
250 psl. - I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father." The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her, — When, oh ! too strong for human hand. The tempest gathered o'er her.
217 psl. - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men...

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