In the Land of the Beautiful TroutT. N. Foulis, 1907 - 169 pagina's |
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
IN THE LAND OF THE BEAUTIFUL T A. T. (Arthur Tysilio) 1873-19 Johnson Geen voorbeeld beschikbaar - 2016 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Amos angler Auld Gray Brig autumn bank beautiful bird blue bottom-fisher boulders breeze cast catch chalk stream cloud cold corncrake creeping crimson curlew dark day's sport deep delight dimpled dorsal fins down-stream dry-fly earth face feel fight fish fisherman flies floating flood flowers gently golden gorse grass grayling green Green Drake happy heather heavy hills hooked instincts lake land leaves light look March Brown May-fly mist moor moorland mountain mountain brook never night nine-foot rod Old Peter passing peat pipe of peace pool purple plains rain reel ripples rise river rocky round rushes salmon scarcely season season of mists sedge-bird sewin side silent silent hills silver sing slowly spirit spring stone Stone-fly stream summer sunlight surface swallows sweet tackle trout turn unseen valley village waders wander warm waterside wild thyme wind woods
Populaire passages
Pagina 133 - No life, my honest Scholar, no life so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well-governed Angler ; for when the lawyer is swallowe'd up with business, and the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, then we sit on cowslip banks, hear the birds sing, and possess ourselves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams, which we now see glide so quietly by us.
Pagina 127 - Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.
Pagina 133 - Indeed, my good scholar, we may say of angling as Dr. Boteler said of strawberries, " Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did ; " and so, if I might be judge, " God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling.
Pagina 132 - I HAVE been here before, But when or how I cannot tell : I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the lights around the shore. You have been mine before, — How long ago I may not know : But just when at that swallow's soar Your neck turned so, Some veil did fall, — I knew it all of yore.
Pagina 158 - COME to me in my dreams, and then By day I shall be well again ! For then the night will more than pay The hopeless longing of the day. Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times, A messenger from radiant climes, And smile on thy new world, and be As kind to others as to me ! Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth, Come now, and let me dream it truth ; And part my hair, and kiss my brow, And say : My love...
Pagina 89 - Though sluggards deem it but a foolish chase, And marvel men should quit their easy chair, The toilsome way, and long, long league to trace, Oh ! there is sweetness in the mountain air, And life, that bloated Ease can never hope to share.
Pagina 7 - No gray old grange, or lonely fold, Or low morass and whispering reed, Or simple stile from mead to mead, Or sheepwalk up the windy wold ; Nor hoary knoll of ash and haw That hears the latest linnet trill, Nor quarry...
Pagina 169 - One for whose sake she once might prove How deeply she who scorns can love. His eyes be like the starry lights— His voice like sounds of summer nights— In all his lovely mien let pierce The magic of the universe! And she to him will reach her hand, And gazing in his eyes will stand, And know her friend, and weep for glee, And cry: Long, long I've looKd for thee.
Pagina 135 - ... are hidden from the traveller on the dusty highway above. The traveller fancies that he has seen the country. So he has; the outside of it, at least; but the angler only sees the inside. The angler only is brought close face to face with the flower, and bird, and insect life of the rich river banks, the only part of the landscape where the hand of man has never interfered, and the only part in general which never feels the drought of summer, 'the trees planted by the waterside, whose leaf shall...
Pagina 59 - As the wind, wandering over the sea, takes from each wave an invisible portion, and brings to those on shore the ethereal essence of ocean, so the air lingering among the woods and hedges — green waves and billows — became full of fine atoms of summer.