The Sportsman and His Dog: Or, Hints on Sporting

Forsideomslag
J. and D.A. Darling, 1850 - 205 sider
 

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Populære passager

Side 112 - Are not the mountains, waves, and skies, a part Of me and of my soul, as I of them ? Is not the love of these deep in my heart With a pure passion?
Side 182 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.
Side 175 - I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me ; and to me High mountains are a feeling, but the hum Of human cities torture...
Side 15 - The western waves of ebbing day Rolled o'er the glen their level way; Each purple peak, each flinty spire, Was bathed in floods of living fire. But not a setting beam could glow Within the dark ravines below, Where twined the path in shadow hid, Round many a rocky pyramid, Shooting abruptly from the dell Its thunder-splintered pinnacle; Round many an insulated mass, The native bulwarks of the pass...
Side 15 - The stag at eve had drunk his fill, Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, And deep his midnight lair had made In lone Glenartney's hazel shade...
Side 220 - I've wander'd o'er, Clombe many a crag, cross'd many a moor, But, by my halidome, A scene so rude, so wild as this, Yet so sublime in barrenness, Ne'er did my wandering footsteps press, • Where'er I happ'd to roam."— XIV.
Side 121 - Cameron's gathering' rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...
Side 222 - Atlantic surge Pours in among the stormy Hebrides; Who can recount what transmigrations there Are annual made? what nations come and go? And how the living clouds on clouds arise? Infinite wings ! till all the plume-dark air And rude resounding shore are one wild cry.
Side 57 - Quand la perdrix Voit ses petits En danger, et n'ayant qu'une plume nouvelle Qui ne peut fuir encor par les airs le trépas, Elle fait la blessée, et va traînant de l'aile , Attirant le chasseur et le chien sur ses pas , Détourne le danger, sauve ainsi sa famille; Et puis, quand le chasseur croit que son chien la pille, Elle lui dit adieu, prend sa volée et rit De l'homme qui, confus, des yeux en vain la suit.
Side 95 - 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.

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