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Seite 392 - If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them : The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out.
Seite 240 - Another came running presently, And he was pale as pale could be ! " Fly, my Lord Bishop, fly !" quoth he, " Ten thousand rats are coming this way : The Lord forgive you for yesterday !" " I'll go to my tower on the Rhine," replied he ; " 'Tis the safest place in Germany ; The walls are high, and the shores are steep, And the stream is strong and the water deep.
Seite 155 - 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.
Seite 17 - It has lengthened life; it has mitigated pain; it has extinguished diseases; it has increased the fertility of the soil; it has given new securities to the mariner; it has furnished new arms to the warrior; it has spanned great rivers and estuaries with bridges of form unknown to our fathers; it has guided the thunderbolt innocuously from heaven to earth; it has lighted up the night with the...
Seite 2 - And angling, too, that solitary vice, Whatever Izaak Walton sings or says: The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.
Seite 17 - ... of business; it has enabled man to descend to the depths of the sea, to soar into the air, to penetrate securely into the noxious recesses of the earth, to traverse the land in cars which whirl along without horses, and the ocean in ships which run ten knots an hour against the wind; These are but a part of its fruits, and of its first fruits.
Seite 155 - In genial spring, beneath the quivering shade, Where cooling vapours breathe along the mead, The patient fisher takes his silent stand...
Seite 107 - For, faithful in death, his mute favourite attended, The much-loved remains of her master defended, And chased the hill-fox and the raven away. How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber ? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start ? How many long days and long...
Seite 157 - And plays about the gilded barges' sides; The ladies, angling in the crystal lake, Feast on the waters with the prey they take ; At once victorious with their lines, and eyes, They make the fishes, and the men, their prize.