Soon the bird of darkness ringing,
Wakes the woods with solemn song;
Spirits, too, of night seem singing,
As they soar the stars among.

Vale of bliss, etc., etc.

O how blest, to dwell for ever,
'Mid these scenes of placid peace!
If some Power the past could sever,
If the tones of Mem❜ry cease.
Ah! not Faith herself dare cherish

Hopes unstain'd by 'wild'ring fears;
Could we dream the past might perish,
What shall quench our future tears?
Vale of bliss, etc., etc.

SEASON FOR ANGLING.

The waters not too high, too thick, too clear,
When Sol's bright beams do not at all appear,
Nor yet the wind too low, nor over high;
On purling streams, if then you'll cast the fly,
That right in season is, and if true make,
Well like to such the trout now best will take;
I dare engage, have you but any skill,

You will not fail the nimble trout to kill.

ANGLING.

What though the hunter's horn be mute,
The wild hallo no longer heard?
Though fox nor hound is now on foot,
And no one wears the scarlet suit,
And no one wings a bird;

Yet still young May doth don a dress
That shines a thing of loveliness,
In raptur'd sportsman's eye.
Not, not alone, for the sweet rose

That now first owns the summer sun,

Not for the blossoms they descry,

From spring's full flow'ry lap just won; But that she calls them to the plain,

And beckons to the stream,

And, joying in her genial reign,

Bids hearts and hope to beam.

Oh! then there is something the sportsman to cheer,
Spring is gone and the May-days are here.

Then, sportsmen, to the course, the course,
For there is the high-mettled steed ;
Or bend thy steps to the river source,
When 'tis rippled by the south wind's force,
And the spotted trout doth feed ;

Ay, hie thee on, these are of May,
And make of their spirit a holiday,

Nor think of the covert and fields.

You sure must love the cheerful scene,
All crowded o'er with busy life,
Which the peopled race course yields
On the banks of some peaceful stream.

ANGLING PLEASURES.

When worldly cares corrode the heart,
And strongness to its pulse impart ;
When misanthropic thoughts arise,
And we our fellow-men despise ;
When public ills and public brawls,
Or private jarring us befalls,

Then esteem the solid treasures,
Nought so sweet as angling pleasures.

When on the soul you'd pour the balm,
Inspire its hopes, or passions calmı ;
Light up its fires for noble deeds,
Direct its path where honour leads,
The selfish, sordid, and the base,
Nor nothing low can have a place;
Throw yourself on solid treasures,
Nought so sweet as angling pleasures.

THE BLUE TAIL'D FLY.

A hungry fish once chanced to spy
Fal de ral, &c.

A little wicked blue-tail'd fly,

Fal de ral, &c.

This fly unto the fish did say,

As in the flood he saw him play,

If

you can bite my tail you may,
Fal de ral, &c.

This hungry fish then made a spring,

Fal de ral, &c.

But he could not catch this blue-tail'd thing, Fal de ral, &c.

So, like the Fox, he lost a treat,

For the fish the fly could not eat,

So

says he your nasty skin's not sweet,
Fal de ral, &c.

Now a little man by chance came by,

Fal de ral, &c.

And he caught with his hand this blue-tail'd fly, Fal de ral, &c.

Then on a hook this fly he hung,

And in this river this blue thing flung,

Where death soon stopt his wicked tongue,
Fal de ral, &c.

This hungry fish saw the blue-tail'd fly f

Fal de ral, &c.

I'll eat, says he, his body and all,
Fal de ral, &c.

My hungry belly you shall fill,
The fly I'll eat against his will,

Ile bit but the hook stuck in his gill,
Fal de ral, &c.

The little man drew him on land,

Fal de ral, &c.

And took this hungry fish in hand,
Fal de ral, &c.

Then on a twig did him suspend,
For to eat this fish he did intend,

So my song, good folks, is at an end,

Fal de ral, &c.

LINES.

O world's deceit! how are we thrall'd by thee,
That dost thy gall in sweetest pleasures hide!
When most we think in happiest state to be,
Then do we soonest into danger slide :
Behold the fish, that even now was free,
Unto the deadly hook how he is ty’d;
So vain delights allure us to the snare,
Wherein un'wares we first entangled are.

Elegie.

DR. DONNE.