The New sporting magazine, Том 58

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1869

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Стр. 346 - For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell, Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Стр. 438 - The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended; and, I think, The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise, and true perfection ! — Peace, hoa ! The moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awaked ! [Music ceases.
Стр. 435 - Breathes there a man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself has said, This is my own, my native land!
Стр. 89 - But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone...
Стр. 195 - He rolls and wreaths his shining body round; Then headlong shoots beneath the dashing tide, The trembling fins the boiling wave divide; Now hope exalts the fisher's beating heart, Now he turns pale, and fears his dubious art; He views the tumbling fish with longing eyes; While the line stretches with th...
Стр. 442 - Then after we had stayed there three hours or thereabouts, we might perceive the deer appear on the hills round about us (their heads making a show like a wood), which being followed close by the...
Стр. 195 - Soon in smart pain he feels the dire mistake, lashes the wave, and beats the foamy lake ; With sudden rage he now aloft appears, And in his eye convulsive anguish bears ; And now again, impatient of the wound, He rolls and wreathes his shining body round ; Then headlong shoots beneath the dashing tide, The trembling fins the boiling wave divide.
Стр. 195 - And greedily sucks in th' unfaithful food ; Then downward plunges with the fraudful prey, And bears with joy the little spoil away. Soon in smart pain he feels the dire mistake, Lashes the wave, and beats the foamy lake : With sudden rage he now aloft appears, And in his eye convulsive anguish, bears ; And now again, impatient of the wound, He rolls and...
Стр. 442 - The manner of the hunting is this: Five or six hundred men do rise early in the morning, and they do disperse themselves divers ways, and seven, eight, or ten miles...
Стр. 112 - And, in the winter, hunt'st the flying hare, More for thy exercise, than fare; While all, that follow, their glad ears apply To the full greatness of the cry...

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