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Take comfort, Janus; never feare thy head Which to the quick belongs, not to the dead. Thy wife did lye with one; thou, being dead drunke, Then art no Cuckold though she bee a Punke. Tis not the state nor soveraintie of Jove Could draw thy pure affections from my love: Nor is there any Venus in the skyes Could from thy lookes withdraw my greedy eyes.
See a team of Skyes racing up a hillside after a fugitive rabbit, tirelessly burrowing after a rat, or displaying their terrier strategy around a fox's earth or an otter's holt, and you will admit that they are meant for sport, and are demons at it. Even their peculiarity of build is a proof that they are born to follow vermin underground.
"So he need be," thought Cecil, as a bull terrier, three or four Gordon setters, an Alpine mastiff, and two wiry Skyes dashed at their chains, giving tongue in frantic delight at the sound of his step, while the hounds echoed the welcome from their more distant kennels, and he went slowly across the great stone yard, with the end of a huge cheroot glimmering through the gloom.
She scarce had spoke; e'er from a cloud there flyes A blasting flame, that bursting shook the skyes; At Jove's avenging thunder, to his hell, From the clos'd earth, affrighted Pluto fell.
Who gave this bright light luster unto thee, Admir'd, ador'd for ever, be that Majesty. Silent alone, where none or saw or heard, In pathless paths I lead my wandering feet; My humble eyes to lofty Skyes I rear'd, To sing some song my mazed Muse thought meet. My great Creator I would magnifie, That nature had thus decked liberally; But Ah, and Ah, again my imbecility.
How oft do they their silver bowers leave, To come to succour us that succour want! How oft do they with golden pineons cleave The flitting skyes, like flying Pursuivant, Against fowle feendes to ayd us militant! They for us fight, they watch and dewly ward, And their bright Squadrons round about us plant; And all for love, and nothing for reward.
Her hair reflex with red strakes paints the skyes, Sweet morn and evening dew flows from her breath: Phoebe rules tides, she my tears tides forth draws. In her sick bed love fits, and maketh laws. Her dainty lips tinsel her silk-soft sheets, Her rose-crown'd cheeks eclipse my dazled sight. O glass with too much joy, my thoughts thou greets, And yet thou shewest me day but by twilight.
Ile here skip ore my mountains reaching skyes, Whether Pyrenean, or the Alpes, both lyes On either side the country of the Gaules Strong forts, from Spanish and Italian brawles, And huge great Taurus longer then the rest, Dividing great Armenia from the least; And Hemus, whose steep sides none foot upon, But farewell all for dear mount Helicon, And wondrous high Olimpus, of such fame, That heav'n itself was oft call'd by that name.
Pratt's Skyes were allied to the type of terrier claiming to be the original Skye of the Highlands. The head was not so large, the ears also were not so heavily feathered, as is the case in the Skye of to-day, and the colours were very varied, ranging from every tint between black and white. In 1892 a great impetus was given to the breed by Mrs.
But the superlative Skye of the period, and probably the best ever bred, is Wolverley Chummie, the winner of thirty championships which are but the public acknowledgment of his perfections. He is the property of Miss McCheane, who is also the owner of an almost equally good specimen of the other sex in Fairfield Diamond. Among the drop-eared Skyes of present celebrity may be mentioned Mrs.
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