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ON ANGLING. 10!* |
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SONG.
Tune.—'-When this old Coat was new"
When this old rod was new—
(My Grandsire cut the bough, And formed its tapering length ;
Methinks, I see him now!) Old England's noble peasantry
Were loyal firm and true ; And blythe were English hearts.
When this old rod was new.
When this old rod was new,
Our fathers liv'd like men ; They wrought their toil with joy,
O'er all their native plain ; And merrily foamed the ale,
Which each goodwife could brew, For all untaxed it ran,
When this old rod was new.
When this old rod was new,
Each farm was snug aud small ;
Each "rood maintained its man," And Hope shone out for all !
Now, paupers crowd the soil, • Since farms grew large and few;—
They dared not use us so, When this old rod was new. |
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