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ON ANGLING. |
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SPRING.
Hark ! the warbling birds around,
Hail the glad return of spring ; Nets, that arching guard the ground.
Far aloof keeps ever}1' sting. Once again the budding grove
With hawthorn's bloom is gay ; Let us fish, and let us rove,
Swiftly fiies the spring away.
Flowers again the garden grace,
Brilliant are the hue we see, Blyth again the stream we trace,
On thy charming banks, O Dee ! Ere the spring deserts the grove,
We may all in death decay, Let us fish then, let us rove,
Swiftly flies the spring away.
Sol's bright eye illumes the bower, Round our feet the daisies grow, Alixt with every painted flower,
Earth's enchanting face can show. Anglers, then, the hour improve,
Let the gloomy hearth be gay ; Let us fish, and let us rove,
Swiftly flies the spring away.
Like the maids, whose beauties clear.
Gems of various hues adorn Lillies mixt with roses here,
Glisten with the the gems of morn. |
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