An angler's rambles

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Page 74 - O, friendly to the best pursuits of man, Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace...
Page 269 - Come on, sir; here's the place: — stand still. — How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Page 316 - Time had piled up at the gates of death, so when I would beget content, and increase confidence in the power, and wisdom, and providence of Almighty God, I will walk the meadows, by some gliding stream, and there contemplate the lilies that take no care, and those very many other various little living creatures that are not only created, but fed, man knows not how, by the goodness of the God of Nature, and therefore trust in Him.
Page 312 - THRICE happy he, who by some shady grove, Far from the clamorous world, doth live his own ; Though solitary, who is not alone, But doth converse with that Eternal Love. O how more sweet is birds...
Page 106 - The sum is this. If man's convenience, health, Or safety interfere, his rights and claims Are paramount, and must extinguish theirs. Else they are all — the meanest things that are, As free to live, and to enjoy that life, 585 As God was free to form them at the first, Who in his sovereign wisdom made them all.
Page 250 - And an ingenious Spaniard says, that " rivers and the inhabitants of the watery element were made for wise men to contemplate, and fools to pass by without consideration.
Page 265 - First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, Regent of day, and all the horizon round Invested with bright rays, jocund to run His longitude through heaven's high road ; the gray Dawn and the Pleiades before him danced, Shedding sweet influence.
Page 164 - Sometimes beneath an ancient oak, Or on the matted grass he lies : No god of Sleep he need invoke ; The stream, that o'er the pebbles flies, With gentle slumber crowns his eyes.
Page 182 - ... is swelled into jolly dimensions by frequent potations of malt liquors, and his bulk is still further increased by a multiplicity of coats, in which he is buried like a cauliflower, the upper one reaching to his heels. He wears a broad-brimmed lowcrowned hat, a huge roll of coloured handkerchief about his neck, knowingly knotted and tucked in at the bosom ; and has in summer time a large bouquet of flowers in his button-hole ; the present, most probably, of some enamoured country lass.
Page 312 - O how more sweet is bird's harmonious moan, Or the hoarse sobbings of the widow'd dove, Than those smooth whisperings near a prince's throne, Which good make doubtful, do the evil approve...

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