Art of Angling

Capa
Crosby, 1814 - 259 páginas

No interior do livro

Páginas seleccionadas

Outras edições - Ver tudo

Palavras e frases frequentes

Passagens conhecidas

Página 154 - But free and common as the sea or wind ; When he, to boast or to disperse his stores, Full of the tributes of his grateful shores, Visits the world, and in his flying tow'rs, Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours...
Página 115 - Oft have I seen a skilful angler try The various colours of the treacherous fly ; When he with fruitless pain hath skimm'd the brook, And the coy fish rejects the skipping hook, He shakes the boughs that on the margin grow, Which o'er the stream a waving forest throw ; When, if an insect fall (his certain guide), He gently takes him from the whirling tide ; Examines well his form, with curious eyes, His gaudy vest, his wings, his horns and size. Then round his hook the chosen fur he winds, And on...
Página 146 - The cavern'd bank, his old secure abode ; And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool, Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand, That feels him still, yet to his furious course Gives way, you, now, retiring, following now Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage : Till floating broad upon his breathless side, And to his fate abandon'd, to the shore You gaily drag your unresisting prize.
Página 154 - Cooper's Hill, My eye, descending from the Hill, surveys Where Thames among the wanton valleys strays ; Thames ! the most loved of all the Ocean's sons, By his old sire, to his embraces runs, Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea, Like mortal life to meet eternity. Though with those streams he no resemblance hold, Whose foam is amber and their gravel gold, His genuine and less guilty wealth t' explore, Search not his bottom, but survey his shore, O'er which he kindly spreads his spacious wing, And...
Página 154 - But God-like his unwearied bounty flows, First loves to do, then loves the good he does. Nor are his blessings to his banks...
Página 27 - The worm that draws a long immod'rate size The trout abhors, and the rank morsel flies; And if too small, the naked fraud's in sight, And fear forbids, while hunger does invite. Those baits will best reward the fisher's pains...
Página 115 - Mark well the various seasons of the year, How the succeeding insect race appear ; In this revolving moon one colour reigns, Which in the next the fickle trout disdains. Oft...
Página 115 - And the coy fish rejects the skipping hook, He shakes the boughs that on the margin grow, Which o'er the stream a waving forest throw ; When, if an insect fall (his certain guide), He gently takes him from the whirling tide ; Examines well his form, with curious eyes, His gaudy vest, his wings, his horns and size. Then round his hook the chosen fur he winds, And on the back a speckled feather binds, So just the colours shine through every part, That Nature seems to live again in Art Let not thy wary...
Página 146 - There throw, nice-judging, the delusive fly; And as you lead it round in artful curve, With eye attentive mark the springing game.
Página 198 - But crystal currents glide within their bounds ; The finny brood their wonted haunts forsake, Float in the sun, and skim along the lake ; With frequent leap they range the shallow streams, Their silver coats reflect the dazzling beams : Now let the fisherman his toils prepare, And arm himself with every watery snare ; His hooks, his lines, peruse with careful eye, Increase his tackle, and his rod re-tie.

Informação bibliográfica