Trout and Salmon Fishing in WalesLongman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green & Longman, 1834 - 223 страници |
Други издания - Преглед на всички
Често срещани думи и фрази
Aberystwith abound angler angling station appearance Artificial bait Bala Bala Lake banks beautiful blue dun body bottom Brecknockshire bridge Bridgend brooks brown Builth bushes called Carmarthenshire caught Cleddy Clwyd colour confluence Conway coracle course Crickhowel dark deep Dolgelly eight miles excellent falls feather feet fish five miles flies flows four miles Gelert grayling green hackle half head herl hook Irvon lake Lake of Geneva leap legs light Llangollen Llanidloes Llanwrst LLYN Loughor Merionethshire miles from Brecknock Montgomeryshire mountain nature Neath Newcastle Emlyn Ogmore pike Pont pool pounds principal Fishing Stations rise river rocks salmon scarlings scenery season seven miles sewin side silk six miles spawn sport spot spring stones stream Tâf tail Teivi three miles town Towy tributaries trout and eels twelve miles Uske vale Vawr village Vyrnwy Wales Welsh wind wings worm yards yellow
Популярни откъси
Страница 200 - Twas only at Llewelyn's board The faithful Gelert fed ; He watched, he served, he cheered his lord, And sentinelled his bed. In sooth he was a peerless hound, The gift of royal John ; But now no Gelert could be found, And all the chase rode on. And now, as...
Страница 18 - Behoves you then to ply your finest art. Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly ; And oft attempts to seize it, but as oft The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear. At last, while haply o'er the shaded sun Passes a cloud, he desperate takes the death. With sullen plunge. At once he darts along. Deep struck, and runs out all the lengthened line ; Then seeks the farthest ooze, the sheltering weed.
Страница ii - Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did ; " and so, if I might be judge, " God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling.
Страница 123 - Once again I see These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms, Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke Sent up, in silence from among the trees! With some uncertain notice, as might seem Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods, Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire The Hermit sits alone.
Страница 201 - He called his child, — no voice replied, — He searched with terror wild; Blood, blood he found on every side, But nowhere found his child. 238 "Hell-houndl my child's by thee devoured!
Страница 97 - While strayed my eyes o'er Towy's flood, Over mead and over wood, From house to house, from hill to hill, Till contemplation had her fill.
Страница ii - No life, my honest scholar, no life so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well-governed angler; for when the lawyer is swallowed up with business, and the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, then we sit on cowslip banks, hear the birds sing, and possess ourselves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams, which we now see glide so quietly by us.
Страница 49 - To frame the little animal, provide All the gay hues that wait on female pride : Let Nature guide thee ; sometimes golden wire The shining bellies of the fly require ; The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail, Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail. Each gaudy bird some slender tribute brings, And lends the growing insect proper wings : Silks of all colours must their aid impart, And every fur promote the fisher's art.
Страница 200 - O'erturned his infant's bed he found, With blood-stained covert rent; And all around the walls and ground With recent blood besprent. He called his child, — no voice replied, — He searched with terror wild; Blood, blood, he found on every side, But nowhere found his child.
Страница 36 - There throw, nice-judging, the delusive fly; And as you lead it round in artful curve, With eye attentive mark the springing game. Straight as above the surface of the flood They wanton rise, or urged by hunger leap, Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook: Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank, And to the shelving shore slow-dragging some, With various hand proportion'd to their force.