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ORDINARY LIVELY TONE.
Blithesome and cumberless,
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place-
ORDINARY GRAVE TONE.
Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main ?
Bright things which gleam unreck'd of, and in vain. Keep, keep thy riches, Melancholy Sea!
We ask not such from thee..
THE High TONE OF DELIGHT. An Orpheus ! an Orpheus ! he works on the crowd, He sways them with harmony merry and loud ; He fills with his power all their hearts to the brim, Was aught ever heard like his fiddle and him ?
THE HIGH TONE OF BRAVERY AND CONFIDENCE.
Then out spake brave Horatius,
The captain of the gate :
Death cometh soon or late.
Than facing fearful odds,
And the temples of his gods ?
“Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
Will hold the foe in play.
May well be stopp'd by three.
And keep the bridge with me?"
The High TONE OF PATRIOTISY. Ye crags and peaks, I'm with you once again! I hold to you the hands you first beheld, To show they still are free. Jethinks I hear A spirit in your echoes answer me, And bid your tenant welcome to his home Again! O sacred forms, how proud you look ! How high you lift your heads into the sky! How huge you are, how mighty, and how free! Ye are the things that tower, that shine-whose smile Makes glad—whose frown is terrible-whose forms, Robed or unrobed, do all the impress wear Of awe divine! Ye guards of liberty, I'm with you once again! I call to you With all my voice! I hold my hands to you, To show they still are free! I rush to you, As though I could embrace you!
The Low TONE OF SORROW FOR THE DEAD. Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O’er the grave where our hero was buried.
We buried him darkly at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning,
And the lantern dimly burning.
Slowly and sadly we laid him down
From the field of his fame, fresh and gory, We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone,
But we left him alone with his glory.
THE LOW TONE OF MYSTERIOUS WARNING. Lochiel ! Lochiel ! beware of the day When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array! For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight, And the clans of Culloden are scatter'd in fight!
Lochiel ! Lochiel ! beware of the day!
V. TIME. This head has reference to the slow or rapid utterance with which passages must be pronounced. In the first three verses of 6 Waterloo” we have a sufficiently good illustration of slow, ordinary, and quick time.
An earthquake's spoil is sepulchred below!
Or column trophied for triumphal show?
As the ground was before, thus let it be ;-
And is this all the world has gain'd by thee,
And Belgium's capital had gather'd then
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men;
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
And all went merry as a marriage bell ;-
Or the car rattling o'er the stony street.
No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet
But, hark !-that heavy sound breaks in once more,
And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before !
VI. PAUSE. The pause is one of the most effective elements in reading and recitation. Its importance cannot be sufficiently impressed upon the pupil. Besides the rest which the voice naturally takes at the marks of punctuation, there are places between these where the pupil should be accustomed to pause. We name some, leaving teachers to fix others as they think proper.
(1.) After introductory conjunctions. (2.) Between the subject and the predicate. (3.) After the subject or object, when followed by an adjective with words dependent on it. (4.) After two or more adjectives preceding a simple subject except the last. (5.) Before and after some prepositional phrases. (6.) Before the relatives. (7.) Before the conjunction that. (8.) Before the infinitive when separated from its governing verb. (9.) At an ellipsis.
POETICAL READINGS AND RECITATIONS.
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN.
(1.) THE RATS. HAMELIN town's in Brunswick, By famous Hanover city;
The river Weser, deep and wide,
A pleasanter spot you never spied ;
Almost five hundred years ago,
From vermin was a pity.
They fought the dogs, and kill'd the cats,
And bit the babies in the cradles,
And lick'd the soup from the cook's own ladles,
By drowning their speaking
With shrieking and squeaking