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SONGS. ETC. |
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THE ANGLER AND HIS FLOAT.
Far away from the noise and deceptions of trade, Through the rude winding paths by simplicity made, I take me at morn, as the day star appears, And the lark, from above, with his song sweetly
cheers; By the swift winding Lea, full of rapture I tread, On the gay painted carpets kind Nature has spread.
As my float down the current goes dancing along, I muse with my pastime ; and this is my song— "That bright coloured object, I follow so free, Reminds me of things once familiar to me ; So dances the frail one fond youth to invite, Who forgetting the hook is the gudgeon to bite.
Like my float is false friendship, it flatters the eye, Till the hook of deceit gives permission to lie; Like a float is the law tribe, they tempt to persue, And not like my bait inviting to ensnare, Then every piscator this tale shall report, An angler is gone to Elysium for sport."
ICHTUS. |
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