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I went down by " The Angler" to Ditton— |
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Or haply on some river's cooling bank, |
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The day is clear, the wind is fair, |
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Come, fuddle, fuddle, drink about, |
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Gentle stranger, have you seen, |
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Young smiling Spring, all clad in green, |
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On the banks of some peaceful stream, |
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Thou bonny fish from the far sea |
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You see the ways the fisherman doth take |
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It chanc'd that an angler, who liv'd at Cheapside |
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Northumberland lads, who use the gads, |
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Let us love to be merry and wise, |
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When I was young and in my prime, |
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There was a gentle angler, |
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Come, changefyour-taper rods, my lads |
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The heavens are bright, the morning gale, |
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Come, my lads, from your pillows spring, |
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What equals on earth the delight of the angler, |
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Angling one summer morn alone, |
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Care knows not the lad that is merry, |
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Awake, up, up '^and away to the streams, |
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Albeit, gentle reader, 1 delight not in my trade |
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O'er moorland and mountain, |
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Reclin'd upon a bank of moss, |
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In day's of old, when first refinement's light |
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How sweet is the breath of the briar, |
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As pants the hart for water brooks, |
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