The Art of Interpretative Speech: Principles and Practices of Effective Reading |
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Page 11
... WIND IN THE PINE 3 Oh , I can hear you , God , above the cry Of the tossing trees- Rolling your windy tides across the sky , And splashing your silver seas Over the pine , To the water - line Of the moon . Oh , I can hear you , God ...
... WIND IN THE PINE 3 Oh , I can hear you , God , above the cry Of the tossing trees- Rolling your windy tides across the sky , And splashing your silver seas Over the pine , To the water - line Of the moon . Oh , I can hear you , God ...
Page 13
... wind that is blind to the eye and a sting to the flesh , And is leaping over the bog to howl on the sea ; Or just the glad way of the gorse to be smelling sweet . And a little star to be putting a sorrow on me . CHARLOTTE ARTHUR ...
... wind that is blind to the eye and a sting to the flesh , And is leaping over the bog to howl on the sea ; Or just the glad way of the gorse to be smelling sweet . And a little star to be putting a sorrow on me . CHARLOTTE ARTHUR ...
Page 20
... wind in its ancient porch Sounds like a hollow laugh . The heaven is wrapped in flying clouds As grandeur cloaks itself in gray : The starlight , flitting in and out , Glints like a lanthorn ray . The dark is full of whispers . Now A ...
... wind in its ancient porch Sounds like a hollow laugh . The heaven is wrapped in flying clouds As grandeur cloaks itself in gray : The starlight , flitting in and out , Glints like a lanthorn ray . The dark is full of whispers . Now A ...
Page 27
... wind , forest , and stream . A Hamlet never happened in life and nobody ever spoke Hamlet's language naturally : he had to be made by a master technician . Not even acting and play production is " ARTIFICIAL , " " NATURAL " 27.
... wind , forest , and stream . A Hamlet never happened in life and nobody ever spoke Hamlet's language naturally : he had to be made by a master technician . Not even acting and play production is " ARTIFICIAL , " " NATURAL " 27.
Page 48
... WIND Go lightly here , for in your going , O Wind ! you tread on holy ground . Go swiftly like clean waters flowing And make no sound where is no sound . Beyond your reach , and beyond the thunder , Where never again mine eyes may see ...
... WIND Go lightly here , for in your going , O Wind ! you tread on holy ground . Go swiftly like clean waters flowing And make no sound where is no sound . Beyond your reach , and beyond the thunder , Where never again mine eyes may see ...
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Common terms and phrases
answer arms artist audience beautiful better birds blood body break breath bring Carl Sandburg carry changes comes Company dark dead death deep Dick dreams earth expression eyes face fear feel feet girl give hand head hear heard heart Henry hills hold hope hour human ideas interpretation laugh leaves light live look Lord marks matter meaning natural never night once pass passages peace permission person play printed reading Rosalind seemed sense sentence SHAKESPEARE side singing slide soul sound speak speech spirit stand stars sweet talk tell thee things thou thought turned understand voice walk watch whole wild wind wood young
Popular passages
Page 159 - That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly.
Page 7 - GROW old along with me ! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made : Our times are in His hand Who saith ' A whole I planned, Youth shows but half ; trust God : see all, nor be afraid...
Page 22 - Gentlemen may cry peace! peace! but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
Page 145 - O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes ! O thou Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow...
Page 193 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we ; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
Page 83 - Here I opened wide the door; — Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore;" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore.
Page 323 - All this! ay, more: fret till your proud heart break; Go show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish.
Page 151 - As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him.
Page 85 - said I, " thing of evil — prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore, Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore: 130 Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore! " Quoth the Raven,
Page 15 - And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now cull out a holiday? And do you now strew flowers in his way, That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone; Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude.