Spring-tide: Or, The Angler and His FriendsR. Bentley, 1850 - 192 страници |
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Страница 10
... confess I have little sympathy with these clods . There is in them a good deal of low cunning under the mask of sim- plicity , and their manners are intolerably boorish . 66 S. Hold there ! I cannot bear to hear my smock - frocked ...
... confess I have little sympathy with these clods . There is in them a good deal of low cunning under the mask of sim- plicity , and their manners are intolerably boorish . 66 S. Hold there ! I cannot bear to hear my smock - frocked ...
Страница 11
... confess that the agricultural labourer is a long - suffering and enduring creature - rude and unpolished , but often honest and sub- missive to his superiors , to a degree that you will look for in vain among the half- educated and ...
... confess that the agricultural labourer is a long - suffering and enduring creature - rude and unpolished , but often honest and sub- missive to his superiors , to a degree that you will look for in vain among the half- educated and ...
Страница 31
... confess there are many charms in a Country life ; but much depends on association . Senex . He only whose early days were spent amidst rural scenes can truly love the Country . Yet , as I stroll through these meadows , I feel , though ...
... confess there are many charms in a Country life ; but much depends on association . Senex . He only whose early days were spent amidst rural scenes can truly love the Country . Yet , as I stroll through these meadows , I feel , though ...
Страница 47
... confession that I have not pleaded vainly in behalf of my smock - frocked friends and their dialect , which , though I am no philolo- gist , I hope I have shown is entitled to some consideration , if only on the score of its antiquity ...
... confession that I have not pleaded vainly in behalf of my smock - frocked friends and their dialect , which , though I am no philolo- gist , I hope I have shown is entitled to some consideration , if only on the score of its antiquity ...
Страница 71
... at other seasons , " When blood is nipt and ways be foul , ” and the swoln streams deluge the mea- dows , he turns to and prefers the comforts of his fireside ? J. I confess they are . I am almost moved THIRD DAY . 71.
... at other seasons , " When blood is nipt and ways be foul , ” and the swoln streams deluge the mea- dows , he turns to and prefers the comforts of his fireside ? J. I confess they are . I am almost moved THIRD DAY . 71.
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Често срещани думи и фрази
acquaintance agen ancient angler Anglo-Saxon appears auver bank beautiful believe breeches cast cockney confess coomed creatures cuckoo dialect dree drowed dwont elder England Exeunt favourite fish rising fly-fisher girt give Grumbler haunt hear heard Hlinc hooked insects Jack Julian laast landing-net language large trout lark leetle London look marnin May-fly meadows Measter minnow morning mwore neighbourhood neighbours nest never Ockle owld pannier perch Piers Ploughman pike plough plunge poacher pond post 8vo pounds pounds weight prey RACTERS redbreast RICHARD BENTLEY river river-side robin Roundhead Saxon scenes season SENEX SIMON PARADICE sing smock-frocked snail sport spot story stream tackle tell thee THEODORE HOOK There's thrush thuck Tiney titmouse trees trout turned vish vols vrom walk Warwickshire weeds whoame winter word wosbird yonder zays zhure
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Страница 140 - CALL for the robin-redbreast and the wren, Since o'er shady groves they hover And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men. Call unto his funeral dole The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm And (when gay tombs are...
Страница 62 - Better than such discourse doth silence long, Long, barren silence, square with my desire ; To sit without emotion, hope, or aim, In the loved presence of my cottage-fire, And listen to the flapping of the flame, Or kettle whispering its faint undersong.
Страница xvi - It is good in discourse, and speech of conversation, to vary, and intermingle speech of the present occasion with arguments, tales with reasons, asking of questions with telling of opinions, and jest with earnest; for it is a dull thing to tire, and, as we say now, to jade any thing too /far.
Страница 105 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Страница 39 - The insect youth are on the wing, Eager to taste the honied spring, And float amid the liquid noon: Some lightly o'er the current skim, Some show their gaily-gilded trim Quick-glancing to the sun.
Страница 175 - Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death?
Страница 167 - Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise, ye winds that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud; and, wave your tops, ye pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Страница 64 - Be full, ye courts; be great, who will; Search for Peace with all your skill. Open wide the lofty door ; Seek her on the marble floor; In vain you search : she is not there ; In vain ye search the domes of Care.
Страница 32 - Still glides the stream, and shall for ever glide; The Form remains, the Function never dies; While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise, We Men, who in our morn of youth defied The elements, must vanish; — be it so! Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
Страница 30 - Go, let the diving negro seek For gems, hid in some forlorn creek : We all pearls scorn, Save what the dewy morn Congeals upon each little spire of grass, Which careless shepherds beat down as they pass : And gold ne'er here appears, Save what the yellow Ceres bears.