Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.
Whall buy my caller herrin? There no brought here without brave darin Buy my caller herrin, Ye little ken their worth. Whall buy my caller herrin? O you may ca them vulgar farin, Wives and mithers maist despairin Ca them lives o men. Caller Herrin. Old Scotch Song. Credited to Lady Nairn. Claimed for Neil Gow, who probably only wrote the music.
Will you walk a little faster? said a whiting to a snail, Theres a porpoise close behind us, and hes treading on my tail! See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance: They are waiting on the shinglewill you come and join the dance? Lewis CarrollSong in Alice in Wonderland.
Here when the labouring fish does at the foot arrive, And finds that by his strength but vainly he doth strive; His tail takes in his teeth, and bending like a bow, Thats to the compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw: Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand, That, bended end to end, and flerted from the hand, Far off itself doth cast, so does the salmon vaut. And if at first he fail, his second summersaut He instantly assays and from his nimble ring, Still yarking never leaves, until himself he fling Above the streamful top of the surrounded heap. DraytonPoly-Olbion. Sixth Song. L. 45.
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. Leigh HuntSonnets. The Fish, the Man, and the Spirit.
Cut off my head, and singular I am, Cut off my tail, and plural I appear; Although my middles left, theres 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. MacaulayEnigma. On the Codfish.
Our plenteous streams a various race supply, The bright-eyed perch with fins of Tyrian dye, The silver eel, in shining volumes rolld, The yellow carp, in scales bedroppd with gold, Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains, And pikes, the tyrants of the watry plains. PopeWindsor Forest. L. 141.
They say fish should swim thrice * * * first it should swim in the sea (do you mind me?) then it should swim in butter, and at last, sirrah, it should swim in good claret. SwiftPolite Conversation. Dialogue II.
Now at the close of this soft summers day, Inclined upon the rivers flowery side, I pause to see the sportive fishes play, And cut with finny oars the sparkling tide. Valdarne. In Thomas Forsters Perennial Calendar.