Our plenteous streams a various race supply, The bright-eyed perch with fins of Tyrian dye, The silver eel, in shining volumes roll'd, The yellow carp, in scales bedropp'd with gold, Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains, And pikes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains.
Ye monsters of the bubbling deep, Your Maker's praises spout; Up from the sands ye codlings peep, And wag your tails about.
Cut off my head, and singular I am, Cut off my tail, and plural I appear; Although my middle's left, there's nothing there! What is my head cut off? A sounding sea; What is my tail cut off? A rushing river; And in their mingling depths I fearless play, Parent of sweetest sounds, yet mute forever.
Their monument sticks like a fishbone in the city's throat.
O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights, What is 't ye do? what life lead? eh, dull goggles? How do ye vary your vile days and nights? How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes and bites, And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles.
There's fish in the sea, no doubt of it, As good as ever came out of it.
A good rule of angling philosophy is not to interfere with any fishermans ways of being happy, unless you want to be hated.
This dish of meat is too good for any but anglers, or very honest men.
It's so silly isn't it? how we grown men take up trout angling not simply to pursue trout but to find some place, some special place, where we feel at ease. a place to belong. Forces, not forms, persist: energy is spent and endures; time does not tick, it flows. God loves a man that smells of trout water and mountain meadows. Which way's heaven, you suppose? Follow the trail and keep close to the stream.
I never lost a little fish - Yes, I'm free to say. It always was the biggest fish I caught, that got away.
Most fishing rods work better if you grasp them at the thick end. If you grasp a fisherman at the thick end, you may get a thumb bit off.
Who hears the fishes when they cry?
How can you need so many rods and reels to catch a fish? , she asked, her lips pulled into that weaned on a gherkin look, as she watched me prepare for a fishing trip. Probably for much the same reason that you seem to need 30 pairs of shoes for one pair of feet, I nearly said, but decided to live for another day.
Big fish eat small fish with as much right as they have power.
It must be observed that fishing with any living bait is to be condemned for the same reason as fishing with a worm: in all such instances we torture two animals at once for our amusement.
In the name of sense, man, if God made fish to be eaten, what difference does it make if I enjoy the killing of them before I eat them? You would have none but a fisherman by trade do it, and then you would have him utter a sigh, a prayer, and a pious ejaculation at each cod or haddock that he killed.
Yet compared with the serious things of life, fishing is after all rather trivial. The thoughtful angler must frankly confess this.
My best fishing-memory is about some fish that I never caught.
It may be a weed instead of a fish that, after all my labour, I at last pull up.
And why do so many people wilfully exhaust their strength in promiscuous living, when their wives are on hand from bridal night till old age - to be taken when required, like fish from a private pond.
I am never, never, sick at sea. What never? No never! What never? Hardly ever.
Fishing should be a ceremony that reaffirms our place in the natural world and helps us resist further estrangement from our origins.
There is an immense trout in Loch Awe in Scotland, which is so voracious, and swallows his own species with such avidity, that he has obtained the name 'Salmo Ferox'. I pull about this unnatural monster till he is tired, land him, and administer the coup de grace. Is this cruel? Cruelty should be made of sterner stuff.
For at least the last 275 years the honesty of fishermen has been somewhat questionable. It should be noted that Izaak Walton whose book published in 1653 spoke not of anglers and , but anglers OR very honest men .
Good fishermen know that in talking about fishing, nothing is more interesting than the truth.
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