The Complete Angler of Izaak Walton and Charles Cotton: Estensively Embellished with Engravings on Copper and Wood, from Original Paintings and Drawings, by First-rate Artists, to which are Added, an Introductory Essay, the Linnœan Arangement of the Various River Fish Delineated in the Work, and Illustrative Notes
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Angling artificial fly bait Barbel belly better betwixt bite body bred breed called Carp catch Chap Charles Cotton Chub colour Complete Angler Copied and Engraved discourse Dorsal fin doth Drawn and Engraved dubbing earth Edition Engraved by H excellent feather feed fish flies Frog Gesner give Grayling Hackle hair hath Hawkins head honest hook Izaak Walton kind learned let me tell live Lond look Master meat Michael Drayton Minnow month moss mouth never observed Otter Pearch Pike Pise pleasure PlSCATOR pond river river Wye Roach Salmon Scholar season shew silk sing Sir Francis Bacon Sir Richard Baker song spawn sport stream sweet tail Tail-piece taken told Trout usually verses Viat Vide W. H. Brooke wings worm yellow
Página 76 - And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle...
Página 40 - This day dame Nature seem'd in love ; The lusty sap began to move ; Fresh juice did stir th' embracing vines ; And birds had drawn their valentines. The jealous trout, that low did lie, Rose at a...
Página 78 - 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.
Página 112 - 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.
Página 41 - With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest; The groves already did rejoice, In Philomel's triumphing voice; The showers were short, the weather mild, The morning fresh, the evening smiled. Joan takes her neat-rubbed pail, and now She trips to milk the sand-red cow ; Where for some sturdy foot-ball swain Joan strokes a syllabub or twain; The fields and gardens were beset With tulips, crocus, violet; And now, though late, the modest rose Did more than half a blush disclose. Thus all looks gay and full of...
Página 214 - Calls my fleeting soul away : Oh ! suppress that magic sound, Which destroys without a wound. Peace, Chloris ! peace, or singing die, That together you and I To heaven may go ; For all we know Of what the blessed do above, Is, that they sing, and that they love.
Página 41 - 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 perch, 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 and wantonness.
Página 116 - And raise my low-pitched thoughts above Earth, or what poor mortals love : Thus, free from lawsuits, and the noise Of princes
Página 116 - 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...