The Compleat Angler

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John Lane, 1904 - Fishing - 454 pages
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User Review  - Cheryl_in_CC_NV - LibraryThing

I know I read it, and certainly I struggled with it at times, and thoroughly enjoyed other bits. I just don't remember it well enough to rate it. Read full review

LibraryThing Review

User Review  - Cheryl_in_CC_NV - LibraryThing

I know I read it, and certainly I struggled with it at times, and thoroughly enjoyed other bits. I just don't remember it well enough to rate it. Read full review

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Page 122 - The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie. My music shows ye have your closes. And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like seasoned timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives.
Page 88 - With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love.
Page 24 - He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants B 3 the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, Lord ! what music hast thou provided for the Saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth...
Page 90 - The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reckoning yields; A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
Page 85 - I left this place and entered into the next field, a second pleasure entertained me: 'twas a handsome milkmaid, that had not yet attained so much age and wisdom as to load her mind with any fears of many things that will never be...
Page 122 - SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die.
Page 211 - Perch or Pike, Roach or Dace, We do chase ; Bleak or Gudgeon, Without grudging ; We are still contented. Or we sometimes pass an hour Under a green willow, That defends us from a shower, Making earth our pillow; Where we may Think and pray Before death Stops our breath. Other joys Are but toys, And to be lamented.
Page 257 - A prayer-book now shall be my looking-glass, In which I will adore sweet virtue's face. Here dwell no hateful looks, no...
Page 126 - I IN these flowery meads would be : These crystal streams should solace me; To whose harmonious bubbling noise I with my angle would rejoice. Sit here, and see the turtle-dove Court his chaste mate to acts of love; Or on that bank, feel the west wind Breathe health and plenty; please my mind. To see sweet dewdrops kiss these flowers. And then...
Page 257 - I would be wise, but that I often see The fox suspected, whilst the ass goes free: I would be fair, but see the fair and proud, Like the bright sun, oft setting in a cloud: I would be poor, but know the humble grass Still trampled on by each unworthy ass : Rich, hated ; wise, suspected; scorn'd, if poor; Great, fear'd; fair, tempted; high, still envy'd more.

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