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Seite 65 - The works of the LORD are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.
Seite 129 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride. His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God !
Seite 75 - The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, And greedily devour the treacherous bait...
Seite 23 - But ye whom social pleasure charms, Whose hearts the tide of kindness warms, Who hold your being on the terms,
Seite 11 - he at the best hathe his holsom Walk and mery at his Ease, a swete Ayre of the swete Savour of the Meade of Flowers, that maketh him hungry ; he heareth the melodious Harmonie of Fowles, he seeth the young Swans, Herons, Ducks, Cotes, and manie other Fowles, with theire Broods, which me seemeth better than alle the Noise of Hounds, Faukenors, and Fowlers can make. And if the Angler take Fysshe, then there is noe Man merrier than he is in his Spryte.
Seite 55 - At Roxburgh, the remains of the castle are only seen. Here it was that James II. of Scotland was killed in 1460, by the bursting of a cannon, made probably from the trunk of a tree, and hooped all round with iron. IJielso. Kelso is situated on the Tweed, in the very heart of fishing ground, near its confluence with the Teviot, a capital trouting river. It has a very fine ruin of a monastery, and a beautiful bridge over the Tweed. The Duke of...
Seite 11 - ... short as it was, and hungry as hawks. Ah ! how happy is the angler ! as Sir Thomas More says, ' If his sport should fail him, he at the least hath his holsom walk, and, mery at his ease, a swete ayre of the swete savour of the meade of flowers that maketh him hungry: he heareth the melodious harmonie of fowles ; he seeth the young swans, herons, ducks, cotes, and many other fowles.
Seite 64 - Through skies, where I could count each little star. The fanning west wind scarcely stirs the leaves ; The river, rushing o'er its pebbled bed, Imposes silence, with a stilly sound. In such a place as this, at such an hour, If ancestry can be in aught believed, Descending spirits have conversed with man, And told the secrets of the world unknown.
Seite 91 - O to abide in the desert with thee! Wild is thy lay and loud, Far in the downy cloud, Love gives it energy, love gave it birth. Where, on thy dewy wing, Where art thou journeying? Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.
Seite 62 - He also imagined that as many carriages and people would be passing his windows as when he stood at the door of his house. But now, where was he!— On the bounds of eternity ! 'Awful thought!' said he to himself ; ' were I to jump a yard or perhaps stir a foot, I might never again be heard of, my address being known only to myaelf; and having no relations, my goods and chattels, what would become of them in all the world!