Think truly, and thy thoughts
Shall the world's famine feed;
Speak truly, and each word of thine
Shall be a fruitful seed;
Live truly, and thy life shall be
A great and noble creed.
'Tis not enough the voice be sound and clear, "Tis modulation that must charm the ear. That voice all modes of passion can express, Which marks the proper words with proper stress : But none emphatic can that speaker call, Who lays an equal emphasis on all.
Some, o'er the tongue the labored measures roll,
Slow and deliberate as the parting toll;
Point every stop, mark every pause so strong,
Their words like stage processions stalk along.
All affectation but creates disgust;
And e'en in speaking we may seem too just.
In vain for them the pleasing measure flows,
Whose recitation runs it all to prose;
Repeating what the poet sets not down,
The verb disjointing from its favorite noun;
While pause, and break, and repetition join
To make a discord in each tuneful line.
Some placid natures fill the allotted scene
With lifeless drawls, insipid and serene;
While others thunder every couplet o'er
And almost crack your ears with rant and roar.
More nature oft, and finer strokes are shown
In the low whisper, than tempestuous tone;
And Hamlet's hollow voice and fixed amaze,
More powerful terror to the mind conveys,
Than he, who, swollen with impetuous rage,
Bullies the bulky phantom of the stage.
He who, in earnest, studies o'er his part,
Will find true nature cling about his heart.
The modes of grief are not included all
In the white handkerchief and mournful drawl!
A single look more marks the internal woe,
Than all the windings of the lengthened Oh!
Up to the face the quick sensation flies,
And darts its meaning from the speaking eyes;
Love, transport, madness, anger, scorn, despair,
And all the passions, all the soul is there.
Loud Force is used in strong but suppressed passion, and in emotions of grief, respect, veneration, dignity and contrition.
1. Hark! a strange sound affrights mine ear!
My pulse, my brain runs wild---I rave
Ah! Who art thou whose voice I hear?
2. What's hallowed ground? 'Tis what gives birth
To sacred thoughts in souls of worth!
Peace! Independence! Truth! Go forth,
Earth's compass round;
And your high priesthood shall make earth
All hallowed ground.
3. VIRTUE takes place of all things. It is the nobility of ANGELS. MAJESTY of GOD.
Rich.-Rivals, sire! in what?
Service to France! I have none!
Whom Europe, paled before your glory, deems
Rival to Armand Richelieu?
Louis.--What, so haughty?
Remember, he who made can unmake.
Rich.-Never!
Never! Your anger can recall your trust,
Annul my office, spoil me of my lands,
Rifle my coffers,--but my name—my deeds,
Are royal in a land beyond your sceptre !
5. O thou that, with surpassing glory crowned,
Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the God
Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere;
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down,
Warring in heaven against heaven's matchless King.
6. His years, 'tis true, are few, his life is long;
For he has gathered many a precious gem;
Enraptured, he has dwelt where master minds
Have poured their own deep musings, and his heart
Has glowed with love to Him who framed us thus,
Who placed within this worthless tegument
The spark of pure Divinity, which shines
With light unceasing.
Long to the dull and loathsome epicure's,
Long to the slothful man's-the groveling herds
Who scarcely know they have a soul within-
Long to all those who, creeping on to death,
Meet in the grave, the earth-worm's banquet-hall,
And leave behind no monuments for good.
Time is the rate or movement with which ideas are expressed. It varies with the nature of the thought or emotion.
The general divisions are: Slow, Medium and Quick. Slow Time is used to express vastness, grandeur, pathos, adoration, solemnity, horror and consternation.
1. The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The plowman homeward plods his weary way
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Mysterious Night! when our first parent knew
Thee from report divine, and heard thy name,
Did he not tremble for this lovely frame,
This glorious canopy of light and blue?
Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew,
Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame,
Hesperius, with the host of heaven, came,
And lo! creation widened in man's view.
Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed
Within thy beams, O Sun! or who could find,
While fly and leaf and insect stood revealed,
That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind!
Why do we, then, shun death with anxious strife?
If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life?
3. Thou, too, dread Mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks,
Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard,
Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene
Into the depths of clouds that vail thy breast,-
Thou, too, again, stupendous mountain! thou
That, as I raise my head, a while bowed low
In adoration, upward from thy base,
Slow traveling, with dim eyes suffused with tears,
Solemnly seemest, like a vapory cloud,
To rise before me-rise, oh, ever rise!
Rise, like a cloud of incense from the earth!
Thou kingly spirit, throned among the hills,
Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven,
Great hierarch! tell thou the silent sky,
And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun,
Earth, with her thousand voices. praises God.
Since she went home
The evening shadows linger longer here,
The winter days fill so much of the year,
And even summer winds are chill and drear,
Since she went home.
Since she went home
The robin's note has touched a minor strain,
The old glad songs breathe but a sad refrain,
And laughter sobs with hidden, bitter pain,
Since she went home.
How still the empty room her presence blessed :
Untouched the pillow that her dear head pressed;
My lonely heart has nowhere for its rest,
The long, long days have crept away like years,
The sunlight has been dimmed with doubts and fears,
And the dark nights have rained in lonely tears,
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