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SONGS ETC. |
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Hurrah, hurrah, he rushes on I Pay out the line, or he'll be gone !
There—check him smartly now ! Well done—he turns upon his track, And, plunging, dashes madly back—
By Jove, a glorious row !
Away, away, he'll take his fling ! 'Tis hard to snap a slackened string;
I'll teaze him when he blows. See there, he stops to breathe, again The strong stiff" rod puts on the strain,
And leaves him no repose.
Another plunge ! but feebler much ; I hold him with a firmer clutch,
And play him nearer shore : The strong hook fixed with murderous grasp, Lifts him in sight; and see—that gasp
Tells lie can fight no more.
The struggle's o'er, the work is done; All bootless every frantic run ;
In vain he strains the line . Ah, ah ! I feel I have him fast, And look, I've landed him at last ;
He's mine, he's mine, he's mine !
Palmer Hackle. |
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