« PreviousContinue »
666 Go!' Through his ear the summons stung,
As if a battle-trump had rung ;
The slumb’ring instincts long unstirred
Start at the old familiar word ;
It thrills like flame through every limb—
What mean his twenty years to him ?
The savage blow his rider dealt
Fell on his hollow flanks unfelt;
The spur that pricked his staring hide,
Unheeded, tore his bleeding side ;
Alike to him are spur and rein,-
He steps a five-year-old again!”
Cas. Brutus, bay not me!
I'll not endure it. You forget yourself,
To hedge me in: I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.
Bru. Go to! you are not, Cassius.
Cas. I am.
Bru. I say you are not !
Cas. Urge me no more: I shall forget myself :
Have mind upon your health ; tempt me no further !
Bru. You say you are a better soldier:
Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me well. For mine own part,
I shall be glad to learn of noble men.-Shakespeare.
Fear not each sudden sound and shock;
'Tis of the wave, and not the rock;
'Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the.gale.
Spite of rock and tempest roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ;
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee,-are all with thee.
The Imitative is used to suit sound to sense.
For men must work and women must weep,
Though there 's little to earn and many to keep,
And the harbor bar be moaning.--Kingsley.
O warning lights! burn bright and clear,
Hither the storm comes ;
Leagues away it moans and thunders low and drear,
Burn till the break of day.—Celia Thaxter.
Then came thunder in mine ears,
And over us surged the sea of steers.
Do not mock me. Oh! ring the bells softly,
And burn your lights low; my Italy's there
With my brave civic pair to disfranchise despair.
Oh! sweet and far, from cliff and scar,
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing.
Blow, bugle!-hear the purple glens replying;
Blow, bugle !—answer, echoes,
“Merrily swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,
Over the mountain-side or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name,-
Spink, spank, spink !
Snug and safe is that nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers:
Chee, chee, chee!”
“How sweet the chime of the Sabbath bells !
Each one its creed in music tells
In tones that float upon the air,
As soft as song, as pure as prayer.
And I will put in simple rhyme
The language of the golden chime:
My happy heart with rapture swells
Responsive to the bells, sweet bells."
“The splendor falls on castle walls,
And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow!--set the wild echoes flying; Blow, bugle-answer, echoes,
“Oh, love! they die in
rich sky; They faint on hill, or field, or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And live forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow !-set the wild echoes flying ; And answer, echoes, answer,
The Sonorous Tone is made by abdominal breathing, and is
used in passion.
Ah! more royally in woman's heart than dwells within the crowned majesty and sceptered anger of an hundred kings.Richelieu.
You do not know what you say, my poor child. You do not comprehend that this would be to villify, to dishonor, the widow of Louis XVI.-Marie Antoinette.
Come not cringing to woo me;
Take me with passion and power,
As a warrior storms a fortress :
I will not shrink or cower.
Come as you came in the desert
Ere we were women and men,
When the tiger passions were in us,
And love as you loved me then.
-W. W. Story.
Give me my robe, put on my crown ; I have
Immortal longings in me; now no more
The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip;
Yare, yare, good Iras ; quick. Methinks I hear
Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valor of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.—Shakespeare.
“Once to speak before the world, rend bare my heart, and show The lesson I have learned, which is death, is life, to know. I, if I perish,-perish ; in the name of God I go.”
If after every tempest come such calms,
May the winds blow till they have waken’d death!
O joy! thou welcome stranger! twice three years
I have not felt thy vital beam ; but now
It warms my veins, and plays about
A fiery instinct lifts me from the ground,
And I could mount”
The Sostenuto is that tone of voice used in love, admira
tion, and pleasing sentiment. High pitch, moderate time.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ;
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears ;—soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.-Shakespeare.
Like music's vibrations
Coursing light-footed the silvery strings,
Seem like the ocean
In jubilant motion,
Rocking its burden of beautiful things.
-Edward A. Jenks.