The Compleat Angler

Forsideomslag
Clarendon Press, 1915 - 398 sider
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LibraryThing Review

Brugeranmeldelse  - 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. Læs hele anmeldelsen

LibraryThing Review

Brugeranmeldelse  - 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. Læs hele anmeldelsen

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Side 118 - 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.
Side 117 - 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.
Side 88 - 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.
Side 239 - Here's no fantastic masque, nor dance, But of our kids that frisk and prance ; Nor wars are seen, Unless upon the green Two harmless lambs are butting one the...
Side 339 - In the artificial night, Your gloomy entrails make, Have I taken, do I take ! How oft when grief has made me fly, To hide me from society Even of my dearest friends, have I, In your recesses' friendly shade, All my sorrows open laid, And my most secret woes, intrusted to your privacy ! Lord!
Side 197 - tis beloved by many: Other joys Are but toys, Only this Lawful is; For our skill Breeds no ill, But content and pleasure. In a morning up we rise, Ere Aurora's peeping : Drink a cup to wash our eyes, Leave the sluggard sleeping: Then we go To and fro, With our knacks At our backs, To such streams As the Thames, If we have the leisure.
Side 88 - ... fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten; In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move, To come to thee and be thy love.
Side 338 - How calm and quiet a delight Is it, alone, To read and meditate and write, By none offended, and offending none ! To walk, ride, sit, or sleep at one's own ease ; And, pleasing a man's self, none other to displease.
Side 58 - Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink Of Trent or Avon have a dwelling-place, Where I may see my quill, or cork, down sink. With eager bite of pike, or bleak, or dace ; And on the world and my Creator think : Whilst some men strive ill-gotten goods t' embrace ; And others spend their time in base excess Of wine, or worse, in war, or wantonness.
Side 121 - And raise my low-pitched thoughts above Earth, or what poor mortals love : Thus, free from lawsuits, and the noise Of princes' courts, I would rejoice. Or, with my Bryan and a book, Loiter long days near Shawford brook.

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