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The Collaborative International Dictionary
Recited

Recite \Re*cite"\ (r[-e]*s[imac]t"), v. t. [imp. & p. p. Recited; p. pr. & vb. n. Reciting.] [F. r['e]citer, fr. L. recitare, recitatum; pref. re- re- + citare to call or name, to cite. See Cite.]

  1. To repeat, as something already prepared, written down, committed to memory, or the like; to deliver from a written or printed document, or from recollection; to rehearse; as, to recite the words of an author, or of a deed or covenant.

  2. To tell over; to go over in particulars; to relate; to narrate; as, to recite past events; to recite the particulars of a voyage.

  3. To rehearse, as a lesson to an instructor.

  4. (Law) To state in or as a recital. See Recital,

  5. Syn: To rehearse; narrate; relate; recount; describe; recapitulate; detail; number; count.

Wiktionary
recited

vb. (en-past of: recite)

Usage examples of "recited".

This prevents him from thinking that as soon as he has recited once he can then safely relax his attention.

Of course a large proportion of the details learned and recited in any lesson will finally be forgotten.

Together we recited a chain of prayers, one for each bead on our chains.

Travelers placed offerings of food, wine, a coin, or some personal memento at the base as they recited prayers for a safe journey.

Sir Nigel looked around as he recited the ritual words, momentarily at a loss because we did not observe this ceremony in the chapel, where we should.

Sir Nigel recited in a clear voice the ancient oath, beloved of barons in this land for centuries before the Normans came.

Newynog for strength I recited a few words of the spell I was reluctant to try.

Together we recited an invocation to God to protect the castle and all who dwelled within from outside evil.

I said, Nisidas, you did not write that, and he said, I knew it, and I said, you did not write it but you recited it, and suddenly, which was not unusual when he had been drinking, my father began to sob, and I had to remind him of what he had often reminded me, tears are the ink of a poet.

Pancho proclaimed, his voice as ardent as when he recited my poems to the members of his club.

At the end of the ceremonies at the Teatro Republicano, Pancho stood and recited it, hand tucked in his frock coat no doubt, and using that slight French accent he refused to lose.

Even so, I recited the first four verses I had written a few days later to him.

I would gladly have read them as, judging from what he had recited, he was no doubt a gifted poet.

Beggars sat by church doors asking for alms, mendicant friars begged bread for their orders or for the poor in prison, jongleurs performed stunts and magic in the plazas and recited satiric tales and narrative ballads of adventure in Saracen lands.

Out of lead and tin, he fashioned hollow images of nude men, filled them with earth collected from the center and four corners of France, inscribed the foreheads with the names of King Edward or one of his captains, and, when the constellations were right, buried them face down while he recited spells to the effect that this was perpetual expulsion, annihilation, and burial of the said King, captains, and all adherents.