The Witchery of Archery: A Complete Manual of Archery. With Many Chapters of Adventures by Field and Flood, and an Appendix Containing Practical Directions for the Manufacture and Use of Archery Implements

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C. Scribner's sons, 1878 - Archery - 259 pages
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Enjoyable
Some how to's, but more like a step back in time.

Contents

I
1
II
8
III
22
IV
33
V
61
VI
68
VII
89
VIII
100
IX
127
X
135
XI
139
XII
161
XIII
187
XIV
194
XV
214
XVI
221

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Page 96 - The trees in Sherwood Forest are old and good ; The grass beneath them now is dimly green : Are they deserted all ? Is no young mien, With loose-slung bugle, met within the wood ? No arrow found — foil'd of its antler'd food — Struck in the oak's rude side ? — Is there nought seen To mark the revelries which there have been, In the sweet days of merry Robin Hood ? Go there with summer, and with evening — go In the soft shadows, like some...
Page 96 - The trees in Sherwood forest are old and good, — The grass beneath them now is dimly green; Are they deserted all? Is no young mien With loose-slung bugle met within the wood: No arrow found, — foil'd of its antler'd food, — Struck in the oak's rude side? Is there nought seen, To mark the revelries which there have been, — In the sweet days of merry Robin Hood? Go there, with Summer, and with evening, — go In the soft shadows like some wandering man, — And thou shalt far amid the forest...
Page 96 - Hood: — and near, with eyes of blue Shining through dusk hair, like the stars of night, And habited in pretty forest plight, — • His green-wood beauty sits, young as the dew.
Page 89 - Robin Hood, or, as some authors have it, Robert o' th' Wood, was bora at Loxley Chase, near Sheffield, in Yorkshire, where the romantic river Loxley descends from the hills to mingle its blue waters with the Rivilin, and the Don, a place well known to every grinder in Sheffield, and often alluded to in the poems of the people's laureate, Ebenezer Elliott, who is the owner of some land on the spot, but of which the last London editor of ' Ritson's Collection of Ballads...
Page 138 - And like white foam, or giant flake Of snow, he lay upon the lake. And of his death the rail was glad, Strutting upon a lily-pad ; The jaunty wood-duck smiled and bowed ; The belted kingfisher laughed aloud, Making the solemn bittern stir Like a half-wakened slumberer ; And rasping notes of joy were heard From gallinule and crying-bird, The while with trebled noise did ring The hammer of the golden-wing ! A FLIGHT SHOT.
Page 96 - Shining through dusk hair, like the stars of night, And habited in pretty forest plight, — His green-wood beauty sits, young as the dew. Oh gentle-tressed girl ! Maid Marian ! Are thine eyes bent upon the gallant game That stray in the merry Sherwood : thy sweet fame Can never, never die. And thou, high man, Would we might pledge thee with thy silver Can Of Rhenish, in the woods of Nottingham...
Page 98 - They chanted hy his side. He knew his parting hour was come; And fancy wandered now To freedom's rude and lawless home, Beneath the forest bough. A faithful follower, standing by...
Page 143 - Aschams *, ornamanted with crest and coronet, as well as the colours and pattern of each archer's arrow-mark. The badge and painting already described, with a portrait of the elder Mr. Waring, are also preserved at the banquetting-hall. The Toxophilite Society possesses many valuable prizes f, of which the...
Page 22 - To him who lives like Robin Hood, Hearing ever, far and thin, Hints of the tunes of Gamelyn. His greatest grief, his sharpest pain, Is (when the days are dark with rain) That for a season he must lie Inert, while deer go bounding by ; Lounge in his lodge, and...
Page 137 - Over which each day the herons flew. I heard a whisper sweet and keen Flow through the fringe of rushes green, The water saying some light thing, The rushes gayly answering. The wind drew faintly from the south, Like breath blown from a sleeper's mouth, And down its current sailing low Came a lone heron white as snow. He cleft with grandly spreading wing The hazy sunshine of the spring; Through graceful curves he swept above The gloomy moss-hung cypress grove ; Then gliding down a long incline, He...

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