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CHAPTER X.

CO-ORDINATE STATEMENTS.

THESE are simply a number of level affirmative statements strung together; and all that is necessary in reading them is clear articulation and sensible pauses. Care should, at the same time, be taken not to let the voice degenerate into sing-song, nor to commit the opposite fault of jerkiness, nor to read off the roll of statements like an ordinary list. None of these faults will be committed, if the reader has the proper feeling with regard to the passage he is reading. This feeling can be best created by the teacher, by means of well-put questions on each passage.

No foot Fitz-James in stirrup staid,'

No grasp upon the saddle laid,

But wreathed his left hand in the mane,
And lightly bounded from the plain,
Turned on the horse his armëd heel,
And stirred his courage with the steel.

SCOTT.

'Tis sweet to hear the watchdog's honest bark,
Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home.
"Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark
Our coming, and look brighter when we come.

"Tis sweet to be awakened by the lark,
Or lulled by falling waters; sweet the hum
Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds,
The lisp of children, and their earliest words.

See the day begins to break,
And the light shoots like a streak

BYRON.

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Of subtle fire; the wind blows cold
While the morning doth unfold;
Now the birds begin to rouse,
And the squirrel from the boughs
Leaps to get him nuts and fruit:
The early lark, that erst was mute,
Carols to the rising day

Many a note and many a lay.

Fled now

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

the sullen murmurs of the north.
The splendid raiment of the spring peeps forth;
Her universal green, and the clear sky,

Delight still more and more the gazing eye.
Wide o'er the fields, in rising moisture strong,
Shoots up the simple flower, or creeps along
The mellowed soil; imbibing fairer hues,

Or sweets from frequent showers and evening dews;
That summon from their sheds the slumbering ploughs,2
While health and vigour fill each breeze that blows.
ROBERT BLOOMFIELD.

He the gay garden round about doth fly,
From bed to bed, from one to other border,
And takes survey,3 with curious busy eye,
Of every flower and herb there set in order:
Now this, now that, he tasteth tenderly,

Yet none of them he rudely doth disorder,
Nor with his feet their silken leaves deface,
But feeds upon the pleasures of each place.

1. These lines must be read with speed, but also with distinct articulation. There are no pauses necessary, except those indicated by the points; and this is a thing very rarely found in any six lines of verse. 2. That is, dug his spur into his sides. (To p. 59.)

1. Erst, before. 2. The frequent showers and evening dews show that it is time to begin ploughing. 3. The accent is on the last syllable--survéy—in accordance with the older usage.

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THESE are generally long sentences, in which the chief or most important statement is kept till the very end. They are very difficult to read, and require long and steady practice. The purpose of them is to keep back for as long as possible the object or notion which the writer wishes to impress upon the reader, and then to reveal it with a certain suddenness. This effect, then, the reader must try to produce; he must read the earlier parts of a sentence in a clear and distinct, but level utterance, and then, when he comes to the close, impress the main idea upon his listeners by a very slow, full, and solemn style of speaking.

1.

2.

3.

Leaves
And flowers
And stars
Thou hast all

have their time to fall,1

to wither at the north wind's breath,
to set-but all

seasons for thine own, O Death!
MRS. HEMANS.

Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled,
And still where many a garden-flower grows wild,
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.

Many are the shapes

Of Death, and many are the ways that lead
To his grim cave; all dismal! . . . yet to sense
More terrible at th' entrance than within.2

MILTON.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

Those gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom,'
Those calm desires that asked but little room,2
Those healthful sports that graced the peaceful scene,
Lived in each look, and brightened all the green—
These, far departing, seek a kindlier shore,
And rural mirth and manners are nō more.

He thrice essayed to speak, and thrice, in spite of scorn,
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth; at last
Words interwove with sighs found out their way.

Him shall no sunshine from the fields of azure,"
No drum-beat from the wall,

MILTON.

No morning gun from the black fort's embrasure,
Awaken with their call!

Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore

Of that vast Ocean7 you must sail so soon;
And put good works on board; and wait the wind
That shortly blows us into worlds unknown.
High on a throne of royal state, which far
Outshone the wealth of Ormuss and of Ind,8
Or, where the gorgeous East, with richest hand,
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,
Satan exalted

sat.

A SHIP LEAVING THE HARBOUR.

9. Where lies the land to which yon ship must go? Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day,

9

Festively she puts forth in trim array:

nor foe

Is she for tropic suns or polar snow?
What boots the inquiry ? Neither friend
She cares for let her travel where she may,
She finds familiar names, a beaten way
Ever before her, and a wind to blow.

10.

WORDSWORTH,

THE UNIVERSAL LEVELLER.

Fate! fortune! chance! 10 whose blindness,
Hostility, or kindness,

Plays such strange freaks with human destinies,
Contrasting poor and wealthy,

The life-diseased and healthy,

SUSPENSIVE STATEMENTS.

The blessed, the cursed, the witless, and the wise,

Ye have a master-one

Who mars what ye have done,

that move beneath the sun,—

Levelling all

Death!

HORACE SMITH.

11.

12.

EDINBURGH.

When sated1 with the martial show
That peopled all the plain below,
The wandering eye could o'er it go,
And mark the distant city glow
With gloomy splendour red;

For, on the smoke wreaths, huge and slow,
That round her sable 2 turrets flow,

The morning beams were shed,

And tinged them with a lustre 3 proud,
Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud.
Such dusky grandeur clothed the height,
Where the huge castle holds its state,
And all the steep slope down,
Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky,
Piled deep and massy, close and high,
Mine own romantic town!

THE SOLITARY SAILOR.

The mountain wooded to the peak, the lawns
And winding glades high up like ways to heaven,
The slender coco's drooping crown of plumes,
The lightning flash of insect and of bird,

The lustre of the long convolvuluses

had

seen

That coiled around the stately stems, and ran
Even to the limit of the land, the glows
And glories of the broad belt of the world,
All these he saw; but what he fain
He could not see, the kindly human face,
Nor ever hear a kindly voice, but heard
The myriad shriek of wheeling ocean-fowl,
The league-long roller thundering on the reef,
The moving whisper of huge trees that branched
And blossomed in the zenith,7 or the sweep
Of some precipitous rivulet to the wave,8
As down the shore he ranged, or all day long
Sat often in the sea-ward gazing gorge,9
A shipwrecked sailor, waiting for a sail; . . .

63

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