Spring-tide: Or, The Angler and His FriendsR. Bentley, 1850 - 192 страници |
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Страница 5
... the owl . Jůst observe them about the turrets of the old minster in a cathedral town . Garrulous gray - pates vie with the bipeds below them . They chatter , quarrel , fall out , and cuff it at times , like FIRST DAY . 5.
... the owl . Jůst observe them about the turrets of the old minster in a cathedral town . Garrulous gray - pates vie with the bipeds below them . They chatter , quarrel , fall out , and cuff it at times , like FIRST DAY . 5.
Страница 6
Or, The Angler and His Friends John Yonge Akerman. fall out , and cuff it at times , like the lords of the creation : doubtless like them , too , they prate of politics and of a pedigree , but they cling with filial fondness to the old ...
Or, The Angler and His Friends John Yonge Akerman. fall out , and cuff it at times , like the lords of the creation : doubtless like them , too , they prate of politics and of a pedigree , but they cling with filial fondness to the old ...
Страница 40
... fall near them ; but doubt- less , experience , or perhaps instinct , prompts them to examine everything that comes in their way . Thus the hairy caterpillar , when feeding on a leaf , may , like the clown saw- ing the sign - board on ...
... fall near them ; but doubt- less , experience , or perhaps instinct , prompts them to examine everything that comes in their way . Thus the hairy caterpillar , when feeding on a leaf , may , like the clown saw- ing the sign - board on ...
Страница 41
... falling occa- sionally , in consequence of a breeze . Now then , on with a May - fly for " stretcher , " and use a hackle for the " bob . " Well Simon , have you marked a good trout ? Simon . Eez , zur ; there's a featish good un , just ...
... falling occa- sionally , in consequence of a breeze . Now then , on with a May - fly for " stretcher , " and use a hackle for the " bob . " Well Simon , have you marked a good trout ? Simon . Eez , zur ; there's a featish good un , just ...
Страница 60
... fall to , at once . S. I know of nothing more beneficial to digestion than a day's fly - fishing . You will often eat your snack in this way with a better relish than a dinner at a wealthy friend's , who has laboured to bring every ...
... fall to , at once . S. I know of nothing more beneficial to digestion than a day's fly - fishing . You will often eat your snack in this way with a better relish than a dinner at a wealthy friend's , who has laboured to bring every ...
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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.