| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
ON ANGLING. |
165 |
||
|
ON TAKING A SALMON.
---------- O, bliss divine !
A salmon flound'ring at my line ! Sullen at first he sinks to ground, Or rolls in circles round and round ; Till, more inflamed, he plounging, sweeps, And from the shallows seeks the deeps; Then bends the rod, the winch then sings. And down tlie stream he headlong springs ; But, turn'd with fiercer rage, he boils, And tries indignant all his wiles ; Yet vainly tries, his courage flown, And all his mighty powers gone, I wind him up with perfect ease, Or here, or there, or where I please ; Till quite exhausted now he grows, And now his silver sides he shows ; Nor one faint effort more he tries, But near my foot a captive lies ; His tail I grasp with eager hand, And swing, with joy, my prize on land.
1787-
MORAL
Think, when thou seest the bait,
Whereon is thy delite, That hidden hookes are hard at hand,
To have thee when thou hitr. |
|||