The lady's reader: with rules for a good style of reading aloud

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George Vandenhoff
1862
 

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Page 189 - O men with Sisters dear ! O men with Mothers and Wives! It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives! Stitch - stitch - stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Sewing at once with a double thread, A Shroud as well as a Shirt.
Page 107 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set - but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!
Page 198 - A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears...
Page 189 - With fingers weary and worn. With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags. Plying her needle and thread — .stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt ; And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch — Would that its tone could reach the rich!— She sang this
Page 175 - Here woman reigns : the mother, daughter, wife, Strew with fresh flowers the narrow way of life ! In the clear heaven of her delightful eye, An angel-guard of loves and graces lie ; Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fire-side pleasures gambol at her feet. Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found? " Art thou a man — a patriot ? look around, O thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home.
Page 197 - 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, dying, dying, dying.
Page 174 - A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth, Time-tutored age and love-exalted youth: The wandering mariner, whose eye explores The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores, Views not a realm so bountiful and fair, Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air ; In every clime the...
Page 200 - I saw the blue Rhine sweep along — I heard, or seemed to hear. The German songs we used to sing, in chorus sweet and clear; And down the pleasant river, and up the slanting hill, The echoing chorus sounded, through the evening calm and still; And her glad blue eyes were on me as we passed with friendly talk Down many a path beloved of...
Page 199 - Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping head, When the troops come marching home again with glad and gallant tread, But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and steadfast eye, For her brother was a soldier, too, and not afraid to die.
Page 134 - FROM Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand ; "Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand ; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain. They call us' to deliver Their land from error's chain.

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