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Flow on, proud Rhine, and may thy streams
For ever sacred flow. For those who tread their margins gay,
The " gentle" fly to throw.
WRITTEN AT A CLUB OF BRITISH ANGLERS IN NORMANDY, IN 1841.
Come, fairest land, we owe to thee
Our gratitude and thanks, Thy splendid streams have yielded sport
And joys have cheer'd their banks.
The Rille, and Toncques, and Colonne,
Sweet waters cold and clear, Have each the anglers hopes sustain'd,
And crown'd the bygone year.
The scatter'd cots, and hamlets rude,
Which greet the angler's eye, Have nooks of shelter often prov'd,
When storms were passing by.
At Contance, Avranche, and Malo,
Fair towns of note and trade, We've brother craftsmen recognis'd,
And jolly comrades made.