On yon fair brook's enamell'd side, Mark well the various seasons of the year, On thy banks, limpid Thames, as I stand, My lover he lives by the pure river side, On Tweed's fair banks a castle stands, No more the angler's silent trade I ply, O! Mary, look, how sweetly Spring When smiling felicity warbles her song, We're all a-fishing, fish, fish, fishing, SONGS, &c. ANGLING. When fair Aurora rising early shews Her blushing face beyond the eastern hills, And chanting birds with merry notes bewray, Then let him go to river, brook or lake, B THE THAMES. Glide gently, thus for ever glide, O Thames! that anglers all may see, O glide fair stream! for ever so, FISHING FOR GUDGEON AND ROACHES. You that fish for dace and roaches, Thou wert borne betweene two dishes, Throw thy worms and flies by the pottle, Keep thy cork to stop thy bottle: Make straight thy hooke, and be not afraid That, in case of started stitches, Hooke and line may mend thy breeches. 1656. |