The Complete Angler, Or, The Contemplative Man's Recreation

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C.E. Goodspeed & Company, 1928 - 323 pages

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Page 104 - A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's 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.
Page 103 - IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.
Page 102 - Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Page 98 - Look, under that broad beech-tree I sat down when I was last this way a-fishing, and the birds in the adjoining grove seemed to have a friendly contention with an echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a hollow tree near to the brow of that primrose-hill...
Page 110 - I'll promise you I'll sing a song that was lately made at my request by Mr. William Basse, one that hath made the choice songs of the Hunter in his Career...
Page 200 - This dish of meat is too good for any but Anglers, or very honest men ; and I trust, you will prove both, and therefore I have trusted you with this secret.
Page 59 - Flora's gifts, among Are intermixt, with verdant grass between; The silver-scaled fish that softly swim Within the sweet brook's crystal, watery stream.
Page 233 - Come, live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove, Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks. There will the river...
Page 103 - Trust me, master, it is a choice song, and sweetly sung by honest Maudlin. I now see it was not without cause, that our good Queen Elizabeth did so often wish herself a milkmaid all the month of May, because they are not troubled with fears and cares...
Page 261 - When we please to walk abroad For our recreation, In the fields is our abode, Full of delectation : Where in a brook, With a hook, Or a lake, Fish we take ; There we sit For a bit, Till we fish entangle. We have gentles in a horn, We have paste and worms too; We can watch both night and morn, Suffer rain and storms too. None do here Use to swear; Oaths do fray Fish away : We sit still And watch our quill; Fishers must not wrangle.

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