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184 SONGS, ETC.
LINES ON AN ANGLING TOUR TO THE RIVER CANCHE AND ITS TRIBUTARIES, IN FRANCE.
Thy wooded heights, fair Canche, I leave With visions bright and gleaming;
The country on thy banks looks grand, With precious fruits it's teaming.
Along thy streams, beneath thy shades,
With sporting zeal I've trod ; And oft pluck'd out the yellow trout, And laid him on the sod.
Grave thoughts have oft my mind engross'd,
With tales of British story ; Where Pianchelie flows, by Agincourt,
I've dwelt on England's glory.
There, in the village church, I've read
Of deeds sublime and brave ; And friends and foes, some thousands deep,
Sleep in one common grave.*
The Battle of Agincourt took place 25th October, 1415, and fi &nd of the slain were buried in one