The Banner of St. George
Words by Shapcott Wensley: music by Sir Edward Elgar
It comes from the misty ages,
The banner of England’s might,
The blood-red cross of the brave St. George,
That burns on a field of white!
It speaks of the deathless heroes5
On fame’s bright page inscrolled,
And bids great England ne’er forget
The glorious deeds of old!
O’er many a cloud of battle
The banner has floated wide;10
It shone like a star o’er the valiant hearts
That dashed the Armada’s pride!
For ever amid the thunders
The sailor could do or die,
While tongues of flame leaped forth below,15
And the flag of St. George was high!
O ne’er may the flag beloved
Unfurl in a strife unblest,
But ever give strength to the righteous arm,
And hope to the hearts oppressed!20
It says to the passing ages:
“Be brave if your cause be right,
Like the soldier saint whose cross of red
Still burns on your banner white!”
Great race, whose empire of splendour25
Has dazzled the wondering world!
May the flag that floats o’er thy wide domains
Be long to all winds unfurled!
Three crosses in concord blended,
The banner of Britain’s might!30
But the central gem of the ensign fair
Is the cross of the dauntless Knight!
—By permission of the publishers, Novello & Co.
Preparatory—Divide the poem into two parts, giving to each part a descriptive title.
What feelings are aroused by this poem?
What lines in stanzas i and iv call up a mental picture of the flag?
What three phrases in stanza i suggest the important ideas to be associated with the flag? How does the voice indicate the importance of these ideas? (Introduction, p. 8.)
Of what phrases in stanza i is stanza ii only an elaboration?
What wish is contained in stanza iii? What sentences express it?
What additional idea does stanza iv add to this wish?
star, valiant, armada, central. Make a distinction in the sound of the letter a in these words, and elsewhere in the poem. (Appendix A, 1.)
George, cross, forget, forth, concord. What sound has the letter o in each word? (Appendix A, 1.)
Articulate with energy the final consonantal combinations of all such words as: England’s, burns, speaks, inscrolled, floated, hearts, dashed, leaped, unblest, strength, dazzled, unfurled, blended. (Appendix A, 3.)
Jean Valjean and the Bishop
From “Les Misérables”
At the bishop’s house, his housekeeper, Mme. Magloire was saying:
“We say that this house is not safe at all; and, if Monseigneur will permit me, I will go on and tell the locksmith to come and put the old bolts in the door again. I say, than a door which opens by a latch on the outside to the first comer, nothing could be more horrible; and then Monseigneur has the habit of always saying: ‘Come in,’ even at midnight. But, my goodness, there is no need to even ask leave——”
At this moment there was a violent knock on the door.
“Come in!” said the bishop.
The door opened.
It opened quickly, quite wide, as if pushed by some one boldly and with energy.
A man entered.
That man we know already; it was the traveller we have seen wandering about in search of a lodging.
He came in, took one step, and paused, leaving the door open behind him. He had his knapsack on his back, his stick in his hand, and a rough, hard, and fierce look in his eyes. He was hideous.
The bishop looked upon the man with a tranquil eye. As he was opening his mouth to speak, doubtless to ask the stranger what he wanted, the man, leaning with both hands on his club, glanced from one to another in turn, and, without waiting for the bishop to speak, said, in a loud voice:
“See here! my name is Jean Valjean. I am a convict; I have been nineteen years in the galleys. Four days ago I was set free, and started for Pontarlier; during these four days I have walked from Toulon. To-day I have walked twelve leagues. When I reached this place this evening I went to an inn, and they sent me away on account of my yellow passport, which I had shown at the Mayor’s office, as was necessary. I went to another inn; they said, ‘Get out!’ It was the same with one as with another; nobody would have me. I went to the prison and the turnkey would not let me in. I crept into a dog kennel, the dog bit me, and drove me away as if he had been a man; you would have said that he knew who I was. I went into the fields to sleep beneath the stars, there were no stars. I thought it would rain, and there was no good God to stop the drops, so I came back to the town to get the shelter of some doorway. There in the square I laid down upon a stone; a good woman showed me your house, and said: ‘Knock there!’ I have knocked. What is this place? Are you an inn? I have money; my savings, one hundred and nine francs and fifteen sous, which I have earned in the galleys by my work for nineteen years. I will pay. What do I care? I have money, I am very tired—twelve leagues on foot—and I am so hungry. Can I stay?”
“Mme. Magloire,” said the bishop, “put on another plate.”
The man took three steps and came near the lamp which stood on the table. “Stop,” he exclaimed; as if he had not been understood; “not that, did you understand me? I am a galley slave—a convict—I am just from the galleys.” He drew from his pocket a large sheet of yellow paper, which he unfolded. “There is my passport, yellow, as you see. That is enough to have me kicked out wherever I go. Will you read it? See, here is what they have put on my passport: Jean Valjean, a liberated convict; has been nineteen years in the galleys; five years for burglary; fourteen years for having attempted four times to escape. This man is very dangerous. There you have it! Everybody has thrust me out; will you receive me? Is this an inn? Can you give me something to eat and a place to sleep? Have you a stable?”
“Mme. Magloire,” said the bishop, “put some sheets on the bed in the alcove.”
The bishop turned to the man:
“Monsieur, sit down and warm yourself; we are going to take supper presently, and your bed will be made ready while you sup.”
At last the man quite understood; his face, the expression of which till then had been gloomy, and hard, now expressed stupefaction, doubt and joy, and became absolutely wonderful. He began to stutter like a madman.
“True? What? You will keep me? you won’t drive me away—a convict? You call me monsieur and don’t say, ‘Get out, dog!’ as everybody else does. I shall have a supper! a bed like other people, with mattress and sheets—a bed! It is nineteen years that I have not slept on a bed. You are good people! Besides, I have money; I will pay well. I beg your pardon, M. Innkeeper, what is your name? I will pay all you say. You are a fine man. You are an innkeeper, is it not so?”
“I am a priest who lives here,” said the bishop.
“A priest,” said the man. “Oh, noble priest! Then you do not ask any money?”
“No,” said the bishop, “keep your money. How much have you?”
“One hundred and nine francs and fifteen sous,” said the man.
“One hundred and nine francs and fifteen sous. And how long did it take you to earn that?”
“Nineteen years.”
“Nineteen years!”
The bishop sighed deeply, and shut the door, which had been left wide open.
Mme. Magloire brought in a plate and set it on the table.
“Mme Magloire,” said the bishop, “put this plate as near the fire as you can.” Then turning toward his guest he added: “The night wind is raw in the Alps; you must be cold, monsieur.”
Every time he said the word monsieur with his gentle, solemn and heartily hospitable voice, the man’s countenance lighted up. Monsieur to a convict is a glass of water to a man dying of thirst at sea.
“The lamp,” said the bishop, “gives a very poor light.”
Mme. Magloire understood him, and, going to his bedchamber, took from the mantel the two silver candlesticks, lighted the candles and placed them on the table.
“M. le Curé,” said the man, you are good; “you don’t despise me. You take me into your house; you light your candles for me, and I haven’t hid from you where I come from, and how miserable I am.”
The bishop touched his hand gently and said: “You need not tell me who you are. This is not my house; it is the house of Christ. It does not ask any comer whether he has a name, but whether he has an affliction. You are suffering; you are hungry and thirsty; be welcome. And do not thank me; do not tell me that I take you into my house. This is the home of no man except him who needs an asylum. I tell you, who are a traveller, that you are more at home here than I; whatever is here is yours. What need have I to know your name? Besides, before you told me, I knew it.”
The man opened his eyes in astonishment.
“Really? You knew my name?”
“Yes,” answered the bishop, “your name is my brother.”
“Stop, stop, M. le Curé,” exclaimed the man, “I was famished when I came in, but you are so kind that now I don’t know what I am; that is all gone.”
The bishop looked at him again and said:
“You have seen much suffering?”
“Oh, the red blouse, the ball and chain, the plank you sleep on, the heat, the cold, the galley’s screw, the lash, the double chain for nothing, the dungeon for a word—even when sick in bed, the chain. The dogs, the dogs are happier! nineteen years! and I am forty-six, and now a yellow passport. That is all.”
“Yes,” answered the bishop, “you have left a place of suffering. But listen, there will be more joy in heaven over the tears of a repentant sinner than over the white robes of a hundred good men. If you are leaving that sorrowful place with hate and anger against men, you are worthy of compassion; if you leave it with good-will, gentleness, and peace, you are better than any of us.”
—Victor Hugo
This lesson can be used as an exercise on Pause springing from (1) Visualization and Grouping, (Introduction, pp. 7 and 8); (2) Narrative which breaks in upon the direct discourse. (Introduction, p. 24.)
That man we know already. (Introduction, p. 11.)
“See here... Can I stay?” This paragraph is an exercise on Emphasis. Make a list of the words which are emphatic (1) because they express new and important ideas, (2) because of contrast. Why is galleys not emphatic? Where is the emphasis placed in that sentence?
The Well of St. Keyne
A well there is in the west country,
And a clearer one never was seen;
There is not a wife in the west country
But has heard of the well of St. Keyne.
An oak and an elm-tree stand beside,5
And behind doth an ash-tree grow,
And a willow from the bank above
Droops to the water below.
A traveller came to the well of St. Keyne;
Joyfully he drew nigh,10
For from cock-crow he had been travelling,
And there was not a cloud in the sky.
He drank of the water so cool and clear,
For thirsty and hot was he;
And he sat down upon the bank,15
Under the willow-tree.
There came a man from the house hard by,
At the well to fill his pail;
On the well-side he rested it,
And he bade the stranger hail.20
“Now, art thou a bachelor, stranger?” quoth he;
“For, an if thou hast a wife,
The happiest draught thou hast drank this day
That ever thou didst in thy life.
“Or has thy good woman, if one thou hast,25
Ever here in Cornwall been?
For, an if she have, I’ll venture my life
She has drank of the well of St. Keyne.”
“I have left a good woman who never was here,”
The stranger he made reply;30
“But that my draught should be the better for that,
I pray you answer me why.”
“St. Keyne,” quoth the Cornish-man, many a time
Drank of this crystal well;
And before the angel summoned her,35
She laid on the water a spell,—
“If the husband of this gifted well
Shall drink before his wife,
A happy man thenceforth is he,
For he shall be master for life;40
“But, if the wife should drink of it first,
God help the husband then!”—
The stranger stooped to the well of St. Keyne,
And drank of the water again.
“You drank of the well, I warrant, betimes?”45
He to the Cornish-man said;
But the Cornish-man smiled as the stranger spake,
And sheepishly shook his head:—
“I hastened, as soon as the wedding was done,
And left my wife in the porch;50
But i’ faith she had been wiser than me,
For she took a bottle to church.”
—Robert Southey
Preparatory.—Select the lines that (a) describe the scene, (b) indicate the action, (c) give the dialogue.
Show by recasting this ballad into dramatic form that it is a miniature drama.
Give examples of Pause springing from (a) Visualization, in ll. 1, 5, 6, 7, 9, 13, 17, 19, (b) narrative which interrupts direct discourse, in ll. 21, 29, 33, 45.
Which are the emphatic words in ll. 2, 3, 4, 10, 11, 14, 21, 29, 31, 38, 45, 46? Give your reasons and show how they are made emphatic. (Introduction, p. 30.)
l. 3. What is the Inflection on ‘country,’ l. 3? (Introduction, p. 17.)
ll. 37-38. Note the Grouping and Pause. (Introduction, p. 12.)
Faith, Hope and Charity
1 Corinthians xiii
Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
And now abideth faith, hope and charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
Charity, suffereth, profiteth. (Appendix A, 8 and 3.)
Show by examples from this selection how completeness and incompleteness of thought affect the Inflection. (Introduction, pp. 15 and 16.)
What Inflection does a negative statement usually require? Give examples from the second paragraph. (Introduction, p. 17.)
Give examples, from the second paragraph, of momentary completeness. (Introduction, pp. 15 and 16.)
Select the words which are emphatic because they express (a) new and important ideas. (b) contrast.
beareth all things, etc. How may the repetition of a word or phrase affect the Emphasis? (Introduction, pp. 31 and 32.)
How are the principal clauses in the first three sentences made prominent? (Introduction, p. 33.)
The Legend Beautiful
From “Tales of a Wayside Inn”
“Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled!”
That is what the Vision said.
In his chamber all alone,
Kneeling on the floor of stone,
Prayed the Monk in deep contrition5
For his sins of indecision,
Prayed for greater self-denial
In temptation and in trial;
It was noonday by the dial,
And the Monk was all alone.10
Suddenly, as if it lightened,
An unwonted splendour brightened
All within him and without him
In that narrow cell of stone;
And he saw the Blessed Vision15
Of our Lord, with light Elysian
Like a vesture wrapped about Him,
Like a garment round Him thrown.
Not as crucified and slain,
Not in agonies of pain,20
Not with bleeding hands and feet,
Did the Monk his Master see;
But as in the village street,
In the house or harvest-field,
Halt and lame and blind He healed,25
When He walked in Galilee.
In an attitude imploring,
Hands upon his bosom crossed,
Wondering, worshipping, adoring,
Knelt the Monk in rapture lost.30
Lord, he thought, in heaven that reignest,
Who am I, that thus Thou deignest
To reveal Thyself to me?
Who am I, that from the centre
Of Thy glory Thou shouldst enter35
This poor cell, my guest to be?
Then amid his exaltation,
Loud the convent bell appalling,
From its belfry calling, calling,
Rang through court and corridor40
With persistent iteration
He had never heard before.
It was now the appointed hour
When alike in shine or shower,
Winter’s cold or summer’s heat,45
To the convent portals came
All the blind and halt and lame,
All the beggars of the street,
For their daily dole of food
Dealt them by the brotherhood;50
And their almoner was he
Who upon his bended knee,
Rapt in silent ecstasy
Of divinest self-surrender,
Saw the Vision and the Splendour.55
Deep distress and hesitation
Mingled with his adoration;
Should he go or should he stay?
Should he leave the poor to wait
Hungry at the convent gate,60
Till the Vision passed away?
Should he slight his radiant guest,
Slight this visitant celestial,
For a crowd of ragged, bestial
Beggars at the convent gate?65
Would the Vision there remain?
Would the Vision come again?
Then a voice within his breast
Whispered, audible and clear
As if to the outward ear:70
“Do thy duty; that is best;
Leave unto thy Lord the rest!”
Straightway to his feet he started,
And with longing look intent
On the Blessed Vision bent,75
Slowly from his cell departed,
Slowly on his errand went.
At the gate the poor were waiting,
Looking through the iron grating,
With that terror in the eye80
That is only seen in those
Who amid their wants and woes
Hear the sound of doors that close,
And of feet that pass them by;
Grown familiar with disfavour,85
Grown familiar with the savour
Of the bread by which men die!
But to-day, they knew not why,
Like the gate of Paradise
Seemed the convent gate to rise,90
Like a sacrament divine
Seemed to them the bread and wine.
In his heart the Monk was praying,
Thinking of the homeless poor,
What they suffer and endure;95
What we see not, what we see;
And the inward voice was saying:
“Whatsoever thing thou doest
To the least of Mine and lowest,
That thou doest unto Me!”100
Unto Me! but had the Vision
Come to him in beggar’s clothing,
Come a mendicant imploring,
Would he then have knelt adoring,
Or have listened with derision,105
And have turned away with loathing?
Thus his conscience put the question,
Full of troublesome suggestion,
As at length, with hurried pace,
Toward his cell he turned his face,110
And beheld the convent bright
With a supernatural light,
Like a luminous cloud expanding
Over floor and wall and ceiling.
But he paused with awestruck feeling115
At the threshold of his door,
For the Vision still was standing
As he left it there before,
When the convent bell appalling,
From its belfry calling, calling,120
Summoned him to feed the poor.
Through the long hour intervening
It had waited his return,
And he felt his bosom burn,
Comprehending all the meaning,125
When the Blessed Vision said,
“Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled!”
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Hadst, lightened, brightened, reignest, deignest, divinest. (Appendix, A, 3.)
ll. 29, 38-39, 78-79. (Appendix, A, 4.)
How can the reader show that the first two lines are merely introductory?
Divide the poem proper into five parts, giving to each part a suggestive title. How can the reader make each part stand out by itself? (Introduction, p. 10.)
Select the principal statement in each stanza and show how the voice may make it prominent. (Introduction, p. 33.)
What Inflection is placed on the principal statement? What Inflection on the subordinate phrases and clauses? (Introduction, p. 15.)
Select examples of momentary completeness from the poem.
ll. 19-22. What is the Inflection on these negative phrases? (Introduction, pp. 17 and 18.)
What is the Inflection on the various questions throughout the poem? (Introduction, p. 18.)
The Vicar’s Family Use Art
From “The Vicar of Wakefield”
1. Whatever might have been Sophia’s sensations, the rest of the family was easily consoled for Mr. Burchell’s absence by the company of our landlord, whose visits now became more frequent, and longer. Though he had been disappointed in procuring my daughters the amusements of the town, as he designed, he took every opportunity of supplying them with those little recreations which our retirement would admit of. He usually came in the morning; and while my son and I followed our occupations abroad, he sat with the family at home, and amused them by describing the town, with every part of which he was particularly acquainted. He could repeat all the observations that were retailed in the atmosphere of the play-houses, and had all the good things of the high wits by rote, long before they made their way into the jest-books. The intervals between conversation were employed in teaching my daughters piquet, or sometimes in setting my two little ones to box, to make them sharp, as he called it; but the hopes of having him for a son-in-law, in some measure blinded us to all his imperfections. It must be owned, that my wife laid a thousand schemes to entrap him; or, to speak it more tenderly, used every art to magnify the merit of her daughter. If the cakes at tea ate short and crisp, they were made by Olivia; if the gooseberry wine was well knit, the gooseberries were of her gathering; it was her fingers that gave the pickles their peculiar green; and in the composition of a pudding, it was her judgment that mixed the ingredients. Then the poor woman would sometimes tell the Squire that she thought him and Olivia extremely of a size, and would bid both stand up to see which was tallest. These instances of cunning, which she thought impenetrable, yet which everybody saw through, were very pleasing to our benefactor, who gave every day some new proofs of his passion, which, though they had not risen to proposals of marriage, yet we thought fell but little short of it; and his slowness was attributed sometimes to native bashfulness, and sometimes to his fear of offending his uncle. An occurrence, however, which happened soon after, put it beyond a doubt that he designed to become one of our family; my wife even regarded it as an absolute promise.
2. My wife and daughters happening to return a visit at neighbour Flamborough’s, found that family had lately got their pictures drawn by a limner, who travelled the country, and took likenesses for fifteen shillings a head. As this family and ours had long a sort of rivalry in point of taste, our spirit took the alarm at this stolen march upon us; and notwithstanding all I could say, and I said much, it was resolved that we should have our pictures done too. Having, therefore, engaged the limner—for what could I do?—our next deliberation was to shew the superiority of our taste in the attitudes. As for our neighbour’s family, there were seven of them, and they were drawn with seven oranges—a thing quite out of taste, no variety in life, no composition in the world. We desired to have something in a brighter style; and after many debates, at length came to an unanimous resolution of being drawn together, in one large historical family piece. This would be cheaper, since one frame would serve for all, and it would be infinitely more genteel; for all families of any taste were now drawn in the same manner. As we did not immediately recollect an historical subject to hit us, we were contented each with being drawn as independent historical figures. My wife desired to be represented as Venus, and the painter was desired not to be too frugal of his diamonds in her stomacher and hair. Her two little ones were to be as Cupids by her side; while I, in my gown and band, was to present her with my books on the Whistonian controversy. Olivia would be drawn as an Amazon, sitting upon a bank of flowers, dressed in a green joseph richly laced with gold, and a whip in her hand. Sophia was to be a shepherdess, with as many sheep as the painter could put in for nothing; and Moses was to be dressed out with an hat and white feather. Our taste so much pleased the Squire that he insisted on being put in as one of the family, in the character of Alexander the Great, at Olivia’s feet. This was considered by us all as an indication of his desire to be introduced into the family, nor could we refuse his request. The painter was therefore set to work, and as he wrought with assiduity and expedition, in less than four days the whole was completed. The piece was large, and it must be owned he did not spare his colours; for which my wife gave him great encomiums. We were all perfectly satisfied with his performance; but an unfortunate circumstance which had not occurred till the picture was finished, now struck us with dismay. It was so very large that we had no place in the house to fix it. How we all came to disregard so material a point is inconceivable; but certain it is, we had been all greatly remiss. The picture, therefore, instead of gratifying our vanity, as we hoped, leaned, in a most mortifying manner, against the kitchen wall, where the canvas was stretched and painted, much too large to be got through any of the doors, and the jest of all our neighbours. One compared it to Robinson Crusoe’s long-boat, too large to be removed; another thought it more resembled a reel in a bottle; some wondered how it could be got out. but still more were amazed how it ever got in.
3. But though it excited the ridicule of some, it effectually raised more malicious suggestions in many. The Squire’s portrait being found united with ours, was an honour too great to escape envy. Scandalous whispers began to circulate at our expense, and our tranquillity was continually disturbed by persons, who came as friends, to tell us what was said of us by enemies. These reports we always resented with becoming spirit; but scandal ever improves by opposition.
4. We once again, therefore, entered into a consultation upon obviating the malice of our enemies, and at last came to a resolution which had too much cunning to give me entire satisfaction. It was this: as our principal object was to discover the honour of Mr. Thornhill’s addresses, my wife undertook to sound him, by pretending to ask his advice in the choice of an husband for her eldest daughter. If this was not found sufficient to induce him to a declaration, it was then resolved to terrify him with a rival. To this last step, however, I would by no means give my consent, till Olivia gave me the most solemn assurances that she would marry the person provided to rival him upon this occasion, if he did not prevent it by taking her himself. Such was the scheme laid, which, though I did not strenuously oppose, I did not entirely approve.
5. The next time, therefore, that Mr. Thornhill came to see us, my girls took care to be out of the way, in order to give their mamma an opportunity of putting her scheme in execution; but they only retired to the next room, whence they could overhear the whole conversation. My wife artfully introduced it, by observing, that one of the Miss Flamboroughs was like to have a very good match of it in Mr. Spanker. To this the Squire assenting, she proceeded to remark, that they who had warm fortunes were always sure of getting good husbands: “But heaven help,” continued she, “the girls that have none! What signifies beauty, Mr. Thornhill? or what signifies all the virtue, and all the qualifications in the world, in this age of self-interest? It is not, What is she? but, What has she? is all the cry.”
6. “Madam,” returned he, “I highly approve the justice, as well as the novelty, of your remarks, and if I were a king, it should be otherwise. It should then, indeed, be fine times for the girls without fortunes: our two young ladies should be the first for whom I would provide.”
7. “Ah, sir,” returned my wife, “you are pleased to be facetious: but I wish I were a queen, and then I know where my eldest daughter should look for an husband. But now that you have put it into my head, seriously, Mr. Thornhill, can’t you recommend me a proper husband for her? She is now nineteen years old, well grown and well educated, and, in my humble opinion, does not want for parts.”
8. “Madam,” replied he, “if I were to choose, I would find out a person possessed of every accomplishment that can make an angel happy. One with prudence, fortune, taste, and sincerity; such, madam, would be, in my opinion, the proper husband.”—“Ay, sir,” said she, “but do you know of any such person?”—“No, Madam,” returned he, “it is impossible to know any person that deserves to be her husband: she’s too great a treasure for one man’s possession: she’s a goddess! Upon my soul, I speak what I think, she’s an angel!”—“Ah, Mr. Thornhill, you only flatter my poor girl: but we have been thinking of marrying her to one of your tenants, whose mother is lately dead, and who wants a manager; you know whom I mean, Farmer Williams; a warm man, Mr. Thornhill, able to give her good bread; and who has several times made her proposals” (which was actually the case); “but, sir,” concluded she, “I should be glad to have your approbation of our choice.”—“How, Madam,” replied he, “my approbation!—my approbation of such a choice! Never. What! Sacrifice so much beauty, and sense, and goodness, to a creature insensible of the blessing! Excuse me, I can never approve of such a piece of injustice. And I have my reasons.”—“Indeed, sir,” cried Deborah, “If you have your reasons, that’s another affair; but I should be glad to know those reasons.”—“Excuse me, Madam,” returned he, “they lie too deep for discovery” (laying his hand upon his bosom); “they remain buried, rivetted here.”
9. After he was gone, upon a general consultation, we could not tell what to make of these fine sentiments. Olivia considered them as instances of the most exalted passion; but I was not quite so sanguine; yet, whatever they might portend, it was resolved to prosecute the scheme of Farmer Williams, who, from my daughter’s first appearance in the country, had paid her his addresses.
—Oliver Goldsmith
absolute, resolution, introduced, (Appendix, A, 2.) visits, native, infinitely, Cupids, vanity, gratifying, mortifying, sanguine. (Appendix, A, 8.) unfortunate, fortune, virtue. (Appendix, A, 9.)
Show by numerous examples from this selection that the dependent clause of a sentence takes the rising Inflection—whilst the principal clause takes the falling. Which of the two has the heavier shading? (Introduction, p. 33.)
How are such parenthetical clauses as as he designed, in the second sentence, kept in the back-ground? (Introduction, pp. 24 and 27.) Give similar examples from this selection.
What Inflection is placed on the rhetorical questions in par. v? (Introduction, p. 19.)
How is the effect of the climax in par. viii brought out? (Introduction, p. 31.)
The Soldier’s Dream
Our bugles sang truce—for the night-cloud had lowered
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky;
And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered,
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.
When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,5
By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain,
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,
And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Methought from the battlefield’s dreadful array,
Far, far I had roamed on a desolate track;10
’Twas autumn—and sunshine arose on the way
To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.
I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft
In life’s morning march, when my bosom was young;
I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,15
And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.
Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore
From my home and my weeping friends never to part;
My little ones kissed me a thousand times o’er,
And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart.20
“Stay, stay with us—rest, thou art weary and worn;”
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay;
But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.
—Thomas Campbell
Preparatory.—Describe the picture suggested by this poem.
Compare the soldier’s dream with the vision of The Private of the Buffs in the hour of danger, or with The Slave’s Dream in Longfellow’s poem.
Divide the poem into three distinct parts, giving to each a descriptive title.
Expand the thoughts contained in the last two lines of the poem, using, if possible, illustrations from literature or real life. What feelings do these lines arouse?
Observe the difficulties of Articulation in ll. 1, 2, 13 and 16. (Appendix A, 6 and 3.)
How can each part of the poem be made to stand out by itself? (Introduction, p. 10.)
2. SENTINEL STARS. Select other phrases which call up mental images.
How does the process of mental imagery affect the Time? (Introduction, p. 12.)
3. How can it be shown that OVERPOWERED and GROUND are disconnected? (Introduction, p. 7.)
4. Why do we pause after WEARY and wounded? (Introduction, p. 10.)
6. Why is there no pause after FAGGOT? (Introduction, p. 11.)
What lines of stanza ii contain the leading thought? How does the voice indicate this? (Introduction, p. 33.)
9. How is the mind prepared for the description of the dream?
21. What feeling does the voice express? Does Imitation play any part here? (Introduction, pp. 5 and 6.)
22. Expand the thought of this line, and show how your thinking affects the Time. (Introduction, p. 14.) Compare with the Time of l. 21, and explain the difference.
Van Elsen
God spake three times and saved Van Elsen’s soul;
He spake by sickness first, and made him whole;
Van Elsen heard him not,
Or soon forgot.
God spake to him by wealth; the world outpoured5
Its treasures at his feet, and called him lord;
Van Elsen’s heart grew fat
And proud thereat.
God spake the third time when the great world smiled,
And in the sunshine slew his little child;10
Van Elsen like a tree
Fell hopelessly.
Then in the darkness came a voice which said,
“As thy heart bleedeth, so My heart hath bled;
As I have need of thee15
Thou needest Me.”
That night Van Elsen kissed the baby feet,
And kneeling by the narrow winding-sheet
Praised him with fervent breath
Who conquered death. 20
-Frederick George Scott (By permission)
By what means is the introductory line kept distinct from the rest of the poem? (Introduction, p. 10.)
How does the reader indicate the comparatively long space of time which elapses between the events of the first, second, and third stanzas respectively? (Introduction, p. 9.)
Show that each of the first three stanzas falls according to meaning, into two parts. How does the reader indicate this division?
Why should the last two stanzas, in this respect, be together treated as one of the preceding? Illustrate by means of Pause.
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu,
Pibroch of Donuil,
Wake thy wild voice anew,
Summon Clan Conuil.
Come away, come away,5
Hark to the summons!
Come in your war array,
Gentles and commons.
Come from deep glen, and
From mountains so rocky,10
The war-pipe and pennon
Are at Inverlocky.
Come every hill-plaid, and
True heart that wears one,
Come every steel blade, and15
Strong hand that bears one.
Leave untended the herd,
The flock without shelter;
Leave the corpse uninterr’d
The bride at the altar;20
Leave the deer, leave the steer,
Leave nets and barges:
Come with your fighting gear,
Broadswords and targes.
Come as the winds come, when25
Forests are rended,
Come as the waves come, when
Navies are stranded;
Faster come, faster come,
Faster and faster,30
Chief, vassal, page and groom,
Tenant and master.
Fast they come, fast they come;
See how they gather!
Wide waves the eagle plume,35
Blended with heather.
Cast your plaids, draw your blades,
Forward each man set!
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu
Knell for the onset!40
—Sir Walter Scott
HERD, UNINTERR’D. What sound has the vowel e? (Appendix A, 1.)
Gentles and commons; nets and barges; fighting gear; Broadswords and targes; Forests are rended; Navies are stranded. (Appendix A, 3 and A, 6.)
For Pause read (Introduction, pp. 7 and 8.)
How is the gradually increasing excitement and energy indicated in Time, Pitch, and Force? (Introduction, pp. 13, 23, and 27.)
The Day Is Done
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downwards
From an eagle in its flight.
I see the lights of the village5
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me,
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,10
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,15
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.20
For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavour;
And to-night I long for rest.
Read from some humbler poet,25
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who, through long days of labour,
And nights devoid of ease,30
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction35
That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.40
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
What is the atmosphere of this poem? Compare it in this respect with Pibroch of Donuil Dhu.
How does it differ from the latter in expression, so far as Time, Pitch, and Force are concerned? (Introduction, pp. 13, 22 and 26.)
WAFTED, AFTER, MASTERS, POEM, CORRIDORS, SORROW. (Appendix A, 1.)
Observe the difficulties of Articulation in ll. 3, 11, 15, 18, 22, 26, 28 and 31. (Appendix A, 3 and A, 6.)
The Schoolmaster and the Boys
From “The Old Curiosity Shop”
1. The schoolmaster had scarcely arranged the room in due order, and taken his seat behind his desk, when a white-headed boy with a sunburnt face appeared at the door, and stopping there to make a rustic bow, came in and took his seat upon one of the forms. The white-headed boy then put an open book, astonishingly dog-eared, upon his knees, and thrusting his hands into his pockets, began counting the marbles with which they were filled. Soon afterwards another white-headed little boy came straggling in, and after him a red-headed lad, and after him two more with white heads, and then one with a flaxen poll, and so on until there were about a dozen boys in all, with heads of every colour but gray, and ranging in their ages from four years old to fourteen years or more; for the legs of the youngest were a long way from the floor when he sat upon the form, and the eldest was a heavy, good-tempered, foolish fellow, about half a head taller than the schoolmaster.
2. At the top of the first form—the post of honour in the school—was the vacant place of the little sick scholar, and at the head of the row of pegs on which the hats and caps were hung, one peg was left empty. No boy attempted to violate the sanctity of seat or peg, but many a one looked from the empty spaces to the schoolmaster, and whispered to his idle neighbour behind his hand.
3. Then began the hum of conning over lessons and getting them by heart, the whispered jest and stealthy game, and all the noise and drawl of school; and in the midst of the din sat the poor schoolmaster, the very image of meekness and simplicity, vainly attempting to fix his mind upon the duties of the day, and to forget his little sick friend. But the tedium of his office reminded him more strongly of the willing scholar, and his thoughts were rambling from his pupils—it was plain. None knew this better than the idlest boys, who, growing bolder with impunity, waxed louder and more daring—eating apples under the master’s eye, pinching each other in sport or malice, and cutting their autographs in the very legs of his desk. The puzzled dunce, who stood beside it to say his lesson out of book, looked no longer at the ceiling for forgotten words, but drew closer to the master’s elbow and boldly cast his eyes upon the page. If the master did chance to rouse himself and seem alive to what was going on, the noise subsided for a moment, and no eyes met his but wore a studious and deeply humble look; but, the instant he relapsed again, it broke out afresh, and ten times louder than before.
4. Oh, how some of those idle fellows longed to be outside, and how they looked at the open door and window, as if they half meditated rushing violently out, plunging into the woods, and being wild boys and savages from that time forth. What rebellious thoughts of the cool river, and some shady bathing-place beneath willow-trees with branches dipping in the water, kept tempting and urging that sturdy boy, who sat fanning his flushed face with a spelling-book wishing himself a whale, or a fly, or anything but a boy at school on that hot, broiling day!
5. Heat! Ask that other boy, whose seat being nearest the door gave him opportunities of gliding out into the garden and driving his companions to madness by dipping his face into the bucket of the well and then rolling on the grass—ask him if there were ever such a day as that, when even the bees were diving deep down into the cups of flowers and stopping there, as if they had made up their minds to retire from business and be manufacturers of honey no more. The day was made for laziness, and lying on one’s back in green places, and staring at the sky till its brightness forced one to shut one’s eyes and go to sleep; and was this a time to be poring over musty books in a dark room, slighted by the very sun itself? Monstrous!
6. The lessons over, writing-time began; and there being but one desk and that the master’s, each boy sat at it in turn and laboured at his crooked copy, while the master walked about. This was a quieter time; for he would come and look over the writer’s shoulder, and tell him mildly to observe how such a letter was turned in such a copy on the wall, and bid him take it for his model. Then he would stop and tell them what the sick child had said last night, and how he had longed to be among them once again; and such was the schoolmaster’s gentle and affectionate manner that the boys seemed quite remorseful that they had worried him so much, and were absolutely quiet; eating no apples, cutting no names, inflicting no pinches, for full two minutes afterwards.
7. “I think, boys,” said the schoolmaster, when the clock struck twelve, “that I shall give an extra half-holiday this afternoon.”
8. At this intelligence the boys, led on and headed by the tall boy, raised a great shout, in the midst of which the master was seen to speak, but could not be heard. As he held up his hand, however, in token of his wish that they should be silent, they were considerate enough to leave off, as soon as the longest-winded among them were quite out of breath.
9. “You must promise me first,” said the schoolmaster, “that you ’ll not be noisy, or, at least, if you are, that you’ll go away and be so—away out of the village, I mean. I’m sure you wouldn’t disturb your old playmate and companion.”
10. There was a general murmur in the negative.
11. “Then, pray, don’t forget—there’s my dear scholars,” said the schoolmaster—“what I have asked you, and do it as a favour to me. Be as happy as you can, and likewise be mindful that you are blessed with health. Good-bye, all!”
12. “Thank you, sir,” and “Good-bye, sir,” were said a great many times in a variety of voices, and the boys went out very slowly and softly.
13. But there was the sun shining and there were the birds singing, as the sun only shines and the birds only sing on holidays and half-holidays; there were the trees waving to all free boys to climb and nestle among their leafy branches; the hay, entreating them to come and scatter it in the pure air; the green corn, gently beckoning toward wood and stream; the smooth ground rendered smoother still by blending lights and shadows, inviting to runs and leaps, and long walks no one knows whither. It was more than boy could bear, and with a joyous whoop the whole company took to their heels and spread themselves about, shouting and laughing as they went.
14. “It’s natural, thank heaven!” said the poor schoolmaster, looking after them. “I’m very glad they didn’t mind me!”
—Charles Dickens
Par. 1. DUE. (Appendix A, 2.)
Indicate the pauses required to allow time for the Imaging process. Discriminate between the short and the long pauses. (Introduction, pp. 8 and 11.)
ORDER, DESK, DOOR. Account for the Inflection on each of these words. (Introduction, pp. 15 and 16.)
What clause in the first sentence should be made most prominent? Indicate the relative value of each part of this sentence by the Shading. (Introduction, p. 33.)
Par. 2. What two phrases suggest the central idea of this paragraph?
How does the voice indicate that the parenthetical clause is subordinate in thought? (Introduction, pp. 24 and 33.)
Par. 3. SIMPLICITY, IMPUNITY, STUDIOUS. (Appendix A, 8 and A, 2.)
DID CHANCE. What is the emphatic word? Why?
Read the last two sentences with a view to Perspective. (Introduction, p. 33.)
NO EYES MET HIS... How does the Inflection on HIS indicate the exact meaning? (Introduction, p. 16.)
Par. 4. Give examples of Grouping in the last sentence and show how Grouping affects the Pause. (Introduction, p. 11.)
Par. 5. WHOSE SEAT—GRASS. What is the Shading? Indicate the pauses in this group of words giving your reason in each case.
What Inflection is placed on the question in the last sentence? Account for it. (Introduction, p. 19.)
Par. 6. WRITER’S SHOULDER, BOYS SEEMED, ABSOLUTELY. (Appendix A, 6, A, 2.)
Give examples of Grouping in the second sentence.
BID HIM TAKE IT FOR HIS MODEL. Which is the emphatic word? Why?
Par. 7. How is I THINK, BOYS connected with the rest of the speech? Apply this principle to other examples of direct speech interrupted by narrative. (Introduction, p. 24.)
Par. 9. IF YOU ARE... BE SO. Select the two emphatic Words and give your reason for emphasizing them, (Introduction, p. 30.)
The Knights’ Chorus
From “Idylls of the King”
Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May;
Blow trumpet, the long night hath roll’d away!
Blow thro’ the living world—Let the King reign.
Shall Rome or Heathen rule in Arthur’s realm?
Flash brand and lance, fall battleaxe upon helm,5
Fall battleaxe, and flash brand! Let the King reign.
Strike for the King and live! his knights have heard
That God hath told the King a secret word.
Fall battleaxe, and flash brand! Let the King reign.
Blow trumpet! he will lift us from the dust!10
Blow trumpet! live the strength, and die the lust!
Clang battleaxe, and clash brand! Let the King reign.
Strike for the King and die! and if thou diest,
The King is King, and ever wills the highest.
Clang battleaxe, and clash brand! Let the king reign.15
Blow, for our Sun is mighty in his May!
Blow, for our Sun is mightier day by day!
Clang battleaxe, and clash brand! Let the King reign.
The King will follow Christ, and we the King
In whom high God hath breathed a secret thing.20
Fall battleaxe, and flash brand! Let the King reign.
—Alfred Tennyson
How do you describe this poem from the standpoint of; (1) the amount of energy, (2) excitement or nervous tension? With what Force and in what Pitch should it be read? (Introduction, pp. 22 and 25.)
Account for the Time in which it is read. (Introduction, p. 13.)
What is the purpose of the question in stanza ii? How is this purpose indicated by the Inflection? (Introduction, p. 19.)
The Northern Star
A Tynemouth Ship
The Northern Star
Sail’d over the bar
Bound to the Baltic Sea;
In the morning gray
She stretched away:5
’Twas a weary day to me!
For many an hour
In sleet and shower
By the lighthouse rock I stray;
And watch till dark10
For the wingéd bark
Of him that is far away.
The castle’s bound
I wander round
Amidst the grassy graves:15
But all I hear
Is the north-wind drear,
And all I see are the waves.
The Northern Star
Is set afar!20
Set in the Baltic Sea:
And the waves have spread
The sandy bed
That holds my Love from me.
—Unknown
Preparatory.—Tell the story of the poem, making as vivid as possible the scenes depicted. Compare Kingsley’s Three Fishers, and Lucy Larcom’s Hannah binding Shoes.
Compare this poem with The Knights’ Chorus from the standpoint of the amount of energy. How is the difference between the two indicated vocally by the Force? (Introduction, p. 26.)
What is the difference in nervous tension between the last stanza and the preceding ones? What difference in Pitch? (Introduction, p. 23.)
Account for the Time in which it is read. (Introduction, p. 14.)
11. Wingéd, with sails
15. Tynemouth Castle used as a graveyard.
The Indigo Bird
When I see,
High on the tip-top twig of a tree,
Something blue by the breezes stirred,
But so far up that the blue is blurred,
So far up no green leaf flies.5
Twixt its blue and the blue of the skies,
Then I know, ere a note be heard,
That is naught but the Indigo bird.
Blue on the branch and blue in the sky,
And naught between but the breezes high,10
And naught so blue by the breezes stirred
As the deep, deep blue of the Indigo bird.
When I hear
A song like a bird laugh, blithe and clear,
As though of some airy jest he had heard15
The last and the most delightful word,
A laugh as fresh in the August haze
As it was in the full-voiced April days,
Then I know that my heart is stirred
By the laugh-like song of the Indigo bird.20
Joy in the branch and joy in the sky,
And naught between but the breezes high;
And naught so glad on the breezes heard
As the gay, gay note of the Indigo bird.
—Ethelwyn Wetherald (By permission)
Preparatory.—Suggest a picture which would serve as an illustration for this poem.
How does the Imaging affect the Pitch in the first two stanzas?
What feelings does the poem arouse? Where do these feelings reach a Climax? What is the effect on the Pitch?
What other Climax is found in the poem besides the Climax of feeling?
FAR, LAUGH, BRANCH, GLAD. (Appendix A, 1.)
BREEZES STIRRED. (Appendix A, 6.)
What is the Inflection on ll. 1-6 of stanza i and iii? (Introduction, p. 17.) How does the Pitch of these lines differ from that of ll. 7 and 8 of these stanzas? Account for the change. (Introduction, p. 23.)
What are the contrasting words in l. 6, stanza i?
Note the Grouping and Pause in ll. 3 and 4, stanza iii.
The Pasture Field
When spring has burned
The ragged robe of winter, stitch by stitch,
And deftly turned
To moving melody the wayside ditch,
The pale-green pasture field behind the bars5
Is goldened o’er with dandelion stars.
When summer keeps
Quick pace with sinewy white-shirted arms,
And daily steeps
In sunny splendour all her spreading farms,10
The pasture field is flooded foamy white
With daisy faces looking at the light.
When autumn lays
Her golden wealth upon the forest floor,
And all the days15
Look backward at the days that went before,
A pensive company, the asters, stand,
Their blue eyes brightening the pasture land.
When winter lifts
A sounding trumpet to his strenuous lips,20
And shapes the drifts
To curves of transient loveliness, he slips
Upon the pasture’s ineffectual brown
A swan-soft vestment delicate as down.
—Ethelwyn Wetherald (By permission)
Preparatory.—Select the phrases which call into play the Imaging process.
Describe four typical Canadian scenes suggested by this poem.
Distinguish the sound of a in PASTURE, RAGGED, BARS, etc. (Appendix A, 1.)
What words express the central ideas in each stanza, and at the same time form a contrast with one another?
What Inflection is used in the first four lines of each stanza? (Introduction, p. 16.)
How does the Shading of these lines compare with that of the last two of each stanza? (Introduction, p. 33.)
Shipwrecked
From “Kidnapped”
1. The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought to me that I must pass it lightly over. In all the books I have read of people cast away, either they had their pockets full of tools, or a chest of things would be thrown upon the beach along with them, as if on purpose. My case was very much different. I had nothing in my pockets but money and Alan’s silver button; and being inland bred, I was as much short of knowledge as of means.
2. I knew indeed that shellfish were counted good to eat; and among the rocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which at first I could scarcely strike from their places, not knowing quickness to be needful. There were, besides, some of the little shells that we call buckies; I think periwinkle is the English name. Of these two I made my whole diet, devouring them cold and raw as I found them; and so hungry was I that at first they seemed to me delicious.
3. Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was something wrong in the sea about my island. But at least I had no sooner eaten my first meal than I was seized with giddiness and retching, and lay for a long time no better than dead. A second trial of the same food (indeed, I had no other) did better with me and revived my strength.
4. But as long as I was on the island, I never knew what to expect when I had eaten; sometimes all was well, and sometimes I was thrown into a miserable sickness; nor could I ever distinguish what particular fish it was that hurt me. All day it streamed rain; there was no dry spot to be found; and when I lay down that night, between two boulders that made a kind of roof, my feet were in a bog.
5. From a little up the hillside over the bay I could catch a sight of the great ancient church and the roofs of the people’s houses in Iona. And on the other hand, over the low country of the Ross, I saw smoke go up, morning and evening, as if from a homestead in a hollow of the land.
6. I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold and had my head half-turned with loneliness, and think of the fireside and of the company till my heart burned. Altogether, this sight I had of men’s homes and comfortable lives, although it put a point on my own sufferings, yet it kept hope alive, and helped me to eat my raw shellfish (which had soon grown to be a disgust), and saved me from the sense of horror I had whenever I was quite alone with dead rocks, and fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea.
7. Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in the year in the climate of England than in any other. That was very like a king with a palace at his back and changes of dry clothes. But he must have had better luck on his flight from Worcester than I had on that miserable isle. It was the height of summer; yet it rained for more than twenty-four hours, and did not clear until the afternoon of the third day.
8. There is a pretty high rock on the north-west of Earraid, which (because it had a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was much in the habit of frequenting; not that I ever stayed in one place, save when asleep, my misery giving me no rest. Indeed, I wore myself down with continual and aimless goings and comings in the rain.
9. As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top of that rock to dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thing I cannot tell. It set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance, of which I had begun to despair; and I scanned the sea and the Ross with a fresh interest. On the south of my rock a part of the island jutted out and hid the open ocean so that a boat could thus come quite near me upon that side and I be none the wiser.
10. Well, all of a sudden, a coble, with a brown sail and a pair of fishers aboard of it, came flying round that corner of the isle, bound for Iona. I shouted out, and then fell on my knees on the rock and prayed to them. They were near enough to hear—I could even see the colour of their hair—and there was no doubt but they observed me, for they cried out in the Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boat never turned aside, and flew right on, before my eyes, for Iona.
11. I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore from rock to rock, crying on them piteously; even after they were out of reach of my voice I still cried and waved to them; and when they were quite gone I thought my heart would burst.
12. The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine) I found my bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, the air was sweet, and what I managed to eat of the shellfish agreed well with me and revived my courage.
13. I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thing after I had eaten) before I observed a boat coming down the Sound, and with her head, as I thought, in my direction.
14. I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought these men might have thought better of their cruelty and be coming back to my assistance. But another disappointment, such as yesterday’s, was more than I could bear. I turned my back accordingly upon the sea, and did not look again till I had counted many hundreds.
15. The boat was still heading for the island. The next time I counted the full thousand, as slowly as I could, my heart beating so as to hurt me. And then it was out of all question. She was coming straight to Earraid. I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside and out, from one rock to another, as far as I could go. It is a marvel I was not drowned; for when I was brought to a stand at last my legs shook under me, and my mouth was so dry I must wet it with the sea water before I was able to shout.
16. All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able to perceive it was the same boat and the same two men as yesterday. This I knew by their hair, which the one had of bright yellow and the other black. But now there was a third man along with them, who looked to be of a better class.
17. As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down their sail and lay quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew no nearer in, and what frightened me most of all, the new man tee-heed with laughter as he talked and looked at me.
18. Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while, speaking fast and with many wavings of his hand. I told him I had no Gaelic; and at this he became very angry, and I began to suspect he thought he was talking English. Listening very close, I caught the word “whateffer” several times; but all the rest was Gaelic, and might have been Greek and Hebrew for me.
19. “Whatever,” said I, to show him I had caught a word. “Yes, yes—yes, yes,” said he; and then he looked at the other men as much as to say, “I told you I spoke English,” and began again as hard as ever in the Gaelic.
20. This time I picked out another word, “tide.” Then I had a flash of hope. I remembered he was always waving his hand toward the mainland of the Ross.
21. “Do you mean when the tide is out?”—I cried, and could not finish.
22. “Yes, yes,” said he. “Tide.”
23. At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had once more begun to tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I had come, from one stone to another, and set off running across the isle as I had never run before. In about half an hour I came upon the shores of the creek, and, sure enough, it was shrunk into a little trickle of water, through which I dashed, not above my knees, and landed with a shout on the main island.
24. A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid, which is only what they call a tidal islet, and, except, in the bottom of the neaps, can be entered and left twice in every twenty-four hours, either dry-shod, or, at the most, by wading. Even I, who had seen the tide going out and in before me in the bay, and even watched for the ebbs, the better to get my shellfish—even I (I say), if I had sat down to think, instead of raging at my fate, must have soon guessed the secret and got free.
25. It was no wonder the fishers had not understood me. The wonder was rather that they had ever guessed my pitiful illusion, and taken the trouble to come back. I had starved with cold and hunger on that island for close upon one hundred hours. But for the fishers, I might have left my bones there, in pure folly. And even as it was, I had paid for it pretty dear, not only in past sufferings but in my present case, being clothed like a beggar man, scarce able to walk, and in great pain of my sore throat.
26. I have seen wicked men and fools—a great many of both—and I believe they both get paid in the end; but the fools first.
—Robert Louis Stevenson (By arrangement)
How are the parenthetical clauses in this selection kept in the back-ground? (Introduction, p. 24.)
11. I could not believe such wickedness... heart would burst. Observe the Climax. (Introduction, p. 31.)
19. Whatever, said I,... How is the direct speech made to stand out from the narration which interrupts it? (Introduction, p. 24.)
On His Blindness
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide,
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He, returning, chide;
“Doth God exact day labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need
Either man’s work, or His own gifts. Who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best: His state
Is kingly; thousands at His bidding speed,
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”
—Milton
Preparatory.—Divide the sonnet into two parts, giving each part a title.
Read the first part in prose order, supplying the ellipses.
How many distinct statements are there in the second part?
Select the clauses of the first part that are equal in rank and have the same Shading. Show which should be made prominent, and which held in the background.
Read the first part of this sonnet, with a view to Perspective. (Introduction, p. 33.)
1-4. With what do you connect When... spent, and Lodged? How?
How do you make the statements of the second part stand out singly? (Introduction, pp. 8 and 10.)
Briggs in Luck
From “Doctor Birch and his Young Friends”
Enter the Knife-boy. Hamper for Briggses!
Master Brown. Hurray, Tom Briggs! I’ll lend you my knife.
If this story does not carry its own moral, what fable does, I wonder? Before the arrival of that hamper, Master Briggs was in no better repute than any other young gentleman of the lower school; and in fact I had occasion myself, only lately, to correct Master Brown for kicking his friend’s shins during the writing-lesson. But how this basket, directed by his mother’s house-keeper, and marked “GLASS WITH CARE,” whence I concluded that it contained some jam and some bottles of wine probably, as well as the usual cake and game-pie, and half a sovereign for the elder Master B., and five new shillings for Master Decimus Briggs—how, I say, the arrival of this basket alters all Master Briggs’s circumstances in life, and the estimation in which many persons regard him!
If he is a good-hearted boy, as I have reason to think, the very first thing he will do, before inspecting the contents of the hamper, or cutting into them with the knife which Master Brown has so considerately lent him, will be to read over the letter from home which lies on top of the parcel. He does so, as I remarked to Miss Raby (for whom I happened to be mending pens when the little circumstance arose), with a flushed face and winking eyes. Look how the other boys are peering into the basket as he reads—I say to her, “Isn’t it a pretty picture?” Part of the letter is in a very large hand. That is from his little sister. And I would wager that she netted the little purse which he has just taken out of it, and which Master Lynx is eyeing.
“You are a droll man, and remark all sorts of queer things,” Miss Raby says, smiling, and plying her swift needle and fingers as quick as possible.
“I am glad we were both on the spot, and that the little fellow lies under our guns as it were, and so is protected from some such brutal school-pirate as young Duval for instance, who would rob him, probably, of some of those good things; good in themselves, and better because fresh from home. See, there is a pie as I said, and which I daresay is better than those which are served at our table (but you never take any notice of these kind of things, Miss Raby), a cake, of course, a bottle of currant wine, jam-pots, and no end of pears in the straw. With this money little Briggs will be able to pay the tick which that impudent child has run up with Mrs. Ruggles; and I shall let Briggs Major pay for the pencil-case which Bullock sold to him.—It will be a lesson to the young prodigal for the future.
“But, I say, what a change there will be in his life for some time to come, and at least until his present wealth is spent! The boys who bully him will mollify toward him and accept his pie and sweetmeats. They will have feasts in the bedroom; and that wine will taste more deliciously to them than the best out of the Doctor’s cellar. The cronies will be invited. Young Master Wagg will tell his most dreadful story and sing his best song for a slice of that pie. What a jolly night they will have! When we go the rounds at night, Mr. Prince and I will take care to make a noise before we come to Briggs’s room, so that the boys may have time to put the light out, to push the things away, and to scud into bed. Doctor Spry may be put in requisition the next morning.”
“Nonsense! you absurd creature,” cries out Miss Raby, laughing; and I lay down the twelfth pen very nicely mended.
“Yes; after luxury comes the doctor, I say; after extravagance, a hole in the breeches pocket. To judge from his disposition, Briggs Major will not be much better off a couple of days hence than he is now, and, if I am not mistaken, will end life a poor man. Brown will be kicking his shins before a week is over, depend upon it. There are boys and men of all sorts, Miss R.—there are selfish sneaks who hoard until the store they daren’t use grows mouldy—there are spendthrifts who fling away, parasites who flatter and lick its shoes, and snarling curs who hate and envy good fortune.”
I put down the last of the pens, brushing away with it the quill chips from her desk first, and she looked at me with a kind, wondering face. I brushed them away, clicked the pen-knife into my pocket, made her a bow, and walked off—for the bell was ringing for school.
—William Makepeace Thackeray
Master, basket, glass, half, after. (Appendix A, 1.)
friend’s shins, selfish sneaks, spendthrifts. (Appendix A, 3 and A, 6.)
Make an analysis from the standpoint of Perspective of the following sentences: But how this basket... regard him; if he is a good-hearted boy... parcel; He does so... winking eyes; See there is a pie... straw.
A wind blew up from Pernambuco,
(Yeo heave ho! the Laughing Sally!
Hi yeo, heave away!)
A wind blew out of the east-sou’-east
And boomed at the break of day. 5
The Laughing Sally sped for her life,
And a speedy craft was she.
The black flag flew at her top to tell
How she took toll of the sea.
The wind blew up from Pernambuco;10
And in the breast of the blast
Came the King’s black ship like a hound let slip
On the trail of the Sally at last.
For a day and a night, a night and a day;
Over the blue, blue round,15
Went on the chase of the pirate quarry,
The hunt of the tireless hound.
“Land on the port bow!” came the cry;
And the Sally raced for shore,
Till she reached the bar at the river-mouth20
Where the shallow breakers roar.
She passed the bar by a secret channel
With clear tide under her keel,—
For he knew the shoals like an open book,
The captain at the wheel.25
She passed the bar, she sped like a ghost,
Till her sails were hid from view
By the tall, liana’d, unsunned boughs
O’erbrooding the dark bayou.
At moonrise up to the river-mouth30
Came the King’s black ship of war,
The red cross flapped in wrath at her peak,
But she could not cross the bar.
And while she lay in the run of the seas,
By the grimmest whim of chance,35
Out of the bay to the north came forth
Two battle-ships of France.
On the English ship the twain bore down
Like wolves that range by night;
And the breakers’ roar was heard no more40
In the thunder of the fight.
The crash of the broadsides rolled and stormed
To the Sally hid from view
Under the tall liana’d boughs
Of the moonless dark bayou.45
A boat ran out for news of the fight,
And this was the word she brought—
“The King’s ship fights the ships of France
As the King’s ships all have fought!”
Then muttered the mate, “I’m a man of Devon!”50
And the captain thundered then—
“There’s English rope that bides for our necks,
But we all be Englishmen!”
The Sally glided out of the gloom
And down the moon-white river. 55
She stole like a gray shark over the bar
Where the long surf seethes for ever.
She hove to under a high French hull,
And the red cross rose to her peak.
The French were looking for fight that night,60
And they hadn’t far to seek.
Blood and fire on the streaming decks,
And fire and blood below;
The heat of hell, and the reek of hell,
And the dead men laid a-row!65
And when the stars paled out of heaven
And the red dawn-rays uprushed,
The oaths of battle, the crash of timbers,
The roar of the guns was hushed.
With one foe beaten under his bow,70
The other far in flight,
The English captain turned to look
For his fellow in the fight.
The English captain turned and stared;—
For where the Sally had been75
Was a single spar upthrust from the sea
With the red cross flag serene!
......
A wind blew up from Pernambuco
(Yeo heave ho! the Laughing Sally!
Hi yeo, heave away!)
And boomed for the doom of the Laughing Sally!
Gone down at the break of day.
—Charles G. D. Roberts (By arrangement)
Preparatory.—Divide the poem into sections giving to each part a descriptive title. (Introduction, p. 10.) How is each section made to stand out?
In what Time is the section which describes the flight of the Laughing Sally read? Give your reason. (Introduction, pp. 5 and 13.)
Contrast the first and last stanzas from the standpoint of feeling. How does the voice express the difference?
blew, knew, news, King’s ship, seethes, and. (Appendix A, 2, 3, 5, and 6.)
Distinguish the sound of a in Laughing Sally, craft, last, passed, wrath, chance, crash, dark, far, dawn. (Appendix A, 1.)
8-9. Note the Grouping and Pause. (Introduction, p. 11.)
11-13. Observe the Grouping. Which phrases have the heaviest Shading? (Introduction, p. 33.)
16. Where is the Pause? Why?
18. Land on the port bow. What change is made in Pitch and Force? Account for it. (Introduction, pp. 22 and 25.)
24. What is the Inflection on this line?
30-37. Observe the Grouping and Shading throughout these stanzas.
38-45. What sense is appealed to in these stanzas? How is the Time affected?
46-53. How are the transitions to direct discourse indicated? (Introduction, p. 24.)
What is the difference in Pitch between the mate’s and the captain’s speech? (Introduction, p. 23.)
66-67. Note the contrast with the preceding stanza and with the two following lines.
The Prodigal Son
Luke xv 11-32
A certain man had two sons: And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living.
And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat: and no man gave unto him. And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants.
And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry; For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.
Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard musick and dancing. And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant. And he said unto him, Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound. And he was angry, and would not go in: therefore came his father out, and intreated him. And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends: But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf. And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad, for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.
Preparatory.—Divide this parable into four parts, giving each part a descriptive title.
Describe pictures to illustrate each part.
Connect the parable with any similar story drawn from modern life. Fill in details to account for (a) the prodigal’s desire to leave home, (b) the father’s great joy at his return, (c) the elder brother’s jealousy.
How many hired servants, etc. What are the prodigal’s feelings? What new feeling is introduced with (a) I will arise, etc.? (b) Father, I have sinned, etc.?
In what Time and Pitch do you read the passages which describe the father’s joy? (Introduction, pp. 12 and 22.)
What feeling pervades the speech of the elder son? What is the motive of the father’s reply?
Explain the Emphasis in the following; (a) and he sent him; (b) and I perish; (c) Now his elder son; (d) therefore came his father out; (e) thou never gavest me a kid. (Introduction, pp. 30 and 31.)
Explain the Inflection on dead, alive, lost, found.
Christmas at Sea
The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;
The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand;
The wind was a nor’-wester, blowing squally off the sea;
And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.
They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day;5
But ’twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.
We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,
And we gave her the maintops’l, and stood by to go about.
All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;
All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;10
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature we tacked from Head to Head.
We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared,
But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard;
So’s we saw cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high,15
And the coast-guard in his garden, with his glass against his eye.
The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;
The good red fires were burning bright in every ‘longshore home;
The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;
And I vow we sniffed the victuals, as the vessel went about.20
The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;
For it’s just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)
This day of our adversity was blessèd Christmas morn,
And the house above the coast-guard’s was the house where I was born.
O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there,25
My mother’s silver spectacles, my father’s silver hair;
And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves,
Go dancing round the china plates that stand upon the shelves.
And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;30
And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessèd Christmas day.
They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.
“All hands to loose topgallant sails,” I heard the captain call.
“Captain, she’ll never stand it,” our first mate, Jackson, cried.35
“It’s the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson,” he replied.
She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good,
And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood.
As the winter’s day was ending, in the entry of the night,
We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.40
And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me,
As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea;
But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold,
Was just that I was leaving home, and my folks were growing old.
—Robert Louis Stevenson (By arrangement)
Preparatory.—Supply an introduction and a conclusion for the story suggested by this poem.
Indicate the pauses which should be made in this poem after words and phrases: (a) because of the Imaging process, (b) in order to conceive the thought more fully, (c) in passing from the narration of one action to that of another, (d) because of direct speech interrupted by narrative. (Introduction, pp. 7, 24, and 27.)
20 and 22. Indicate the Pause before phrases to prepare the mind for what is coming. (Introduction, p. 8.) What Inflection is used as a connecting link? (Introduction, p. 16.)
27. FIRELIGHT. With what should it be connected? How? (Introduction, p. 24.)
34. All hands... sails. What change in Pitch and Force? (Introduction, pp. 22 and 26.)
40. What is the Shading? (Introduction, p. 33.)
Compare the mental state of the captain with that of the first mate. How is the difference indicated in the Pitch of their respective speeches? (Introduction, p. 22.)
Connect stanzas vii and viii with the last two lines of the poem. What background of thought is suggested? How is the rate of reading affected by the thoughts suggested? (Introduction, p. 14.)
The Evening Wind
Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou
That cool’st the twilight of the sultry day,
Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow:
Thou hast been out upon the deep at play,
Riding all day the wild blue waves till now,5
Roughening their crests, and scattering high their spray,
And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee
To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea!
Nor I alone;—a thousand bosoms round
Inhale thee in the fulness of delight;10
And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound
Livelier at coming of the wind of night;
And, languishing to hear thy grateful sound,
Lies the vast inland stretched beyond the sight.
Go forth into the gathering shade; go forth,15
God’s blessing breathed upon the fainting earth!
Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest,
Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse
The wide old wood from his majestic rest,
Summoning from the innumerable boughs20
The strange deep harmonies that haunt his breast:
Pleasant shall be thy way, where meekly bows
The shutting flower and darkling waters pass,
And where the o’ershadowing branches sweep the grass.
The faint old man shall lean his silver head25
To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep,
And dry the moistened curls that overspread
His temples, while his breathing grows more deep;
And they who stand about the sick man’s bed
Shall joy to listen to thy distant sweep,30
And softly part his curtains to allow
Thy visit, grateful to his burning brow.
Go,—but the circle of eternal change,
Which is the life of nature, shall restore,
With sounds and scents from all thy mighty range,35
Thee to thy birthplace of the deep once more;
Sweet odours in the sea-air, sweet and strange,
Shall tell the home-sick manner of the shore;
And, listening to thy murmur, he shall dream
He hears the rustling leaf and running stream.40
—William Cullen Bryant
Preparatory.—Describe fully the picture suggested by (a) the first three lines of stanza i, (b) the last four lines of stanza i, (c) stanza ii. Give to each a suitable title.
1, 2, and 6. (Appendix A, 3, 4, and 8.)
1. THOU. What is the Inflection?
6. How does the sound accord with the sense?
15. Go forth... go forth. Where is the Emphasis? (Introduction, p. 31.)
19-21. What feeling is aroused? How is the Quality of voice affected? (Introduction, p. 34.)
25-32. What change in Time? Account for it. (Introduction, p. 13.)
31. What atmosphere is created in this line? What Quality of voice is the result? What lines in the last stanza have the same atmosphere? (Introduction, p. 34.)
36. With what should Thee be connected? In what way?
33-36. What portions are read in lighter Shading? (Introduction, p. 33.)
Paradise and the Peri
From “Lalla Rookh”
One morn a Peri at the gate
Of Eden stood, disconsolate;
And as she listened to the Springs
Of Life within, like music flowing,
And caught the light upon her wings5
Through the half-open portal glowing,
She wept to think her recreant race
Should e’er have lost that glorious place!
“How happy,” exclaimed this child of air,
“Are the holy spirits who wander there,10
’Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall;
Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea,
And the stars themselves have flowers for me,
One blossom of Heaven out-blooms them all!”
The glorious Angel, who was keeping15
The Gates of Light, beheld her weeping;
And, as he nearer drew and listened
To her sad song, a tear-drop glistened
Within his eyelids, like the spray
From Eden’s fountain, when it lies20
On the blue flower, which—Brahmins say—
Blooms nowhere but in Paradise.
“Nymph of a fair, but erring line!”
Gently he said,—“One hope is thine.
’Tis written in the Book of Fate,25
The Peri yet may be forgiven
Who brings to this Eternal Gate
The Gift that is most dear to Heaven!
Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin:
’Tis sweet to let the Pardoned in!”30
Downward the Peri turns her gaze,
And, through the war-field’s bloody haze,
Beholds a youthful warrior stand
Alone, beside his native river,—
The red blade broken in his hand,35
And the last arrow in his quiver.
“Live,” said the conqueror, “live to share
The trophies and the crowns I bear!”
Silent that youthful warrior stood—
Silent he pointed to the flood40
All crimson with his country’s blood,
Then sent his last remaining dart,
For answer, to th’ invader’s heart.
False flew the shaft, though pointed well;
The tyrant lived, the hero fell!45
Yet marked the Peri where he lay,
And when the rush of war was past,
Swiftly descending on a ray
Of morning light, she caught the last,
Last glorious drop his heart had shed,50
Before its free-born spirit fled!
“Be this,” she cried, as she winged her flight,
“My welcome gift at the Gates of Light.”
“Sweet,” said the Angel, as she gave
The gift into his radiant hand,55
“Sweet is our welcome of the brave
Who die thus for their native land.—
But see—alas!—the crystal bar
Of Eden moves not—holier far
Than e’en this drop the boon must be,60
That opes the Gates of Heaven for thee!”
But nought can charm the luckless Peri;
Her soul is sad, her wings are weary.
When, o’er the vale of Balbec winging
Slowly, she sees a child at play,65
Among the rosy wild-flowers singing,
As rosy and as wild as they;
Chasing, with eager hands and eyes,
The beautiful blue damsel-flies
That fluttered round the jasmine stems,70
Like-wingèd flowers or flying gems:
And, near the boy, who, tired with play,
Now nestling ’mid the roses lay,
She saw a wearied man dismount
From his hot steed, and on the brink75
Of a small imaret’s rustic fount
Impatient fling him down to drink.
Then swift his haggard brow he turned
To the fair child, who fearless sat,
Though never yet hath daybeam burned80
Upon a brow more fierce than that.
But hark! the vesper call to prayer,
As slow the orb of daylight sets,
Is rising sweetly on the air,
From Syria’s thousand minarets!85
The boy has started from the bed
Of flowers, where he had laid his head,
And down upon the fragrant sod
Kneels, with his forehead to the south,
Lisping th’ eternal name of God90
From purity’s own cherub mouth.
And how felt he, the wretched man,
Reclining there—while memory ran
O’er many a year of guilt and strife,
Flew o’er the dark flood of his life,95
Nor found one sunny resting-place,
Nor brought him back one branch of grace?
“There was a time,” he said, in mild,
Heart-humbled tones, “thou blessed child!
When, young and haply pure as thou,100
I looked and prayed like thee—but now—”
He hung his head—each nobler aim,
And hope, and feeling, which had slept
From boyhood’s hour, that instant came
Fresh o’er him, and he wept—he wept!105
And now, behold him kneeling there
By the child’s side, in humble prayer,
While the same sunbeam shines upon
The guilty and the guiltless one,
And hymns of joy proclaim through Heaven110
The triumph of a soul forgiven!
’Twas when the golden orb had set,
While on their knees they lingered yet,
There fell a light, more lovely far
Than ever came from sun or star,115
Upon the tear that, warm and meek,
Dewed that repentant sinner’s cheek:
To mortal eye that light might seem
A northern flash or meteor beam—
But well th’ enraptured Peri knew120
’Twas a bright smile the Angel threw
From Heaven’s gate, to hail that tear—
Her harbinger of glory near!
“Joy, joy for ever! my task is done:
The Gates are passed, and Heaven is won!”125
—Thomas Moore
Preparatory.—Divide this selection into four scenes, describing minutely each scene, and pointing out what part of the poem it covers. (Introduction, p. 10.)
What feelings are aroused by each scene?
Spirit, native, purity. (Appendix A, 8.)
1-4. Give two examples of Grouping from these lines. Give numerous other examples throughout the selection, and show how Grouping affects the Inflection and Pause. (Introduction, pp. 10-12.)
3-7. Read with a view to Perspective. Select other examples, noting especially ll. 17-22, 47-51, 72-77, and 112-117. (Introduction, p. 33.)
9. exclaimed this child of air. (Introduction, pp. 24 and 27.) Give other examples of direct discourse broken by narration.
54 and 56. Sweet... Sweet. Which word is more emphatic? (Introduction, p. 31.) Compare l. 105.
84. With what should Is Rising be connected? How? Compare Upon the tear, l. 116.