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THE ANGLER'S RETURN.
Through the long morning have I toil'd
By stream and lonely wood, And 'cross the dark untrodden glen,
The sparkling trout pursued ; But, deeper now, the gathering clouds
Collect along the sky, And, faint and weary, warn my steps
Their homeward course to hie.
And now the driving mists withdraws
Her grey and vapoury veil, I mark again the sacred bower,
I pass'd in yonder dale. A little while and I shall gain
Yon hill's laborious height, And then, perhaps, my humble cot,
Will cheer my grateful sight.
Ah ! now I see the smoke ascend
From forth the glimmering thatch, Now my heart beats at every step,
And now I lift the latch ; Now, starting from my blazing hearth,
My little children bound, And, loud with shrill and clamorous joy.
Their happy sire surround.