APPEAL.

DESCRIPTION OF FIGURE.

Right foot a little in advance; left knee very slightly bent; shoulders thrown back somewhat; face a little turned; eyes lifted heavenward; right arm extended; hand open, and a little above the level of the forehead; left arm extended almost horizontally, so as to bring the wrist just below the belt; the hand open, palm upward.

Examples.

1. Ah! Brakenbury, I have done these things That now give evidence against my soul

2.

For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me!
O God! if my deep prayers can not appease thee,
But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds,

Yet execute thy wrath on me alone:

Oh, spare my guiltless wife, and my poor children!
I prithee, Brakenbury, stay by me;

My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.

My tall and tawny king, come back!

Come swift, O sweet! why falter so?

Come, come! What thing has crossed your track?
I kneel to all the gods I know.

Oh, come, my manly Idaho!

Great Spirit, what is this I dread?

Why, there is blood! the wave is red!
That wrinkled chief, outstripped in race,

Dives down, and hiding from thy face,
Strikes underneath! He rises now!
Now plucks my hero's berry bough,
And lifts aloft his red fox head,
And signals he has won for me.
Hist, softly! Let him come and see.
Oh, come, my white-crowned hero, come!
Oh, come, and I will be your bride,
Despite yon chieftain's craft and might.

APPEAL.

COURAGE.

DESCRIPTION OF FIGURE.

The left foot a little in advance; the figure somewhat thrown back, so that the breast is well advanced; the arms fully extended; hands open; the right hand on a level with the forehead; the left on a level with the lower part of thigh; the right palm partly turned upward, the left partly down.

Examples.

1. If ye are beasts, then stand here, like fat oxen, waiting for the butcher's knife. If ye are men-follow me! Strike down yon guard, gain the mountain passes, and there do bloody work, as did your sires at old Thermopylæ! Is Sparta dead? Is the old Grecian spirit frozen in your veins, that you do crouch and cower like a belabored hound beneath his master's lash? Oh, comrades! warriors! Thracians!-if we must fight, let us fight for ourselves! If we must slaughter, let us slaughter our oppressors! If we must die, let it be under the clear sky, by the bright waters, in noble, honorable battle!

2.

An hour passed on;-the Turk awoke;

That bright dream was his last:

He woke to hear his sentries shriek,

"To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!"
He woke to die 'midst flame, and smoke,
And shout, and groan, and saber stroke,

And death-shots, falling thick and fast
As lightnings from the mountain cloud:
And heard, with voice as trumpet loud,
Bozzaris cheer his band:

"Strike! till the last armed foe expires;
Strike! for your altars and your fires;
Strike! for the green graves of your sires,
God, and your native land!"

COURAGE

CAUTION.

DESCRIPTION OF FIGURE.

The right foot about an inch in advance; the legs close together; the form at ease; the right arm bent so that the back of the open fingers touch the lips; the left arm at the side, but slightly extended partly forward, partly sideways; the hand open, the palm downward.

Examples.

1. Have patience, gentle friends; I must not read it :
It is not meet you know how Cæsar loved you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men ;
And, being men, hearing the will of Cæsar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;
For, if you should, oh, what would come of it!
The king stood still
Till the last echo died: then throwing off
The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back
The pall from the still features of his child,
He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth
In the resistless eloquence of woe.

2.

3. There was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium's capital had gathered there
Her beauty and her chivalry; and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men!
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when

Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,

And all went merry as a marriage-bell.

But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell.

Did ye not hear it? No, 'twas but the wind,

Or the car rattling o'er the stony street.

On with the dance, let joy be unconfined.

No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.