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ON ANGLING. |
12 I |
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THE ANGLER'S ADDRESS TO THE SPRING.
Hail, gentle goddess, blooming Spring, Thy blest return, O, let me sing,
And aid my languid lays ; Let me not sink in sloth supine, While all creation at thy shrine,
Its common tribute pays.
Escap'd from winter's freezing pow'r, Each blossom greets thee, and each flower;
And foremost of the train, (By nature's artless hand-maid drest,) The snowdrop conies in lillied vest,
Prophetic of thy reign.
Life-giving zephyrs pine through the flood, And All the rippling rills with food,
From nature's varied lives ; The sun's direct resolving beams, Pour warmth into the sparkling streams,
And tinny life revives. J 765. C. |
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CATCH.
By shady woods and purling streams, I spend my life in angling dreams ; And would not for the world be taught To change my charm'd delightful thought . For who can tranquil pleasures know, Who grubs among the things below ? |
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