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About This Book
There have been several distinct collections of Angling Songs published within the last few years ; but all that have fallen in my way, have been local in language, turn of thought, and descriptive allusions. There are North of England Songs,. Scottish Songs, and Songs in the dialects of the West of England. There is not, as far as 1 am aware, any general collection of Fishing Songs, embodying the poetical warblings of piscatorians of all parts of the kingdom. It is chiefly to supply this deficiency that the present small volume is published. A great number of the pieces have never been printed before, having been collected from private sources; and several have only appeared in local newspapers, magazines, &c They have been throwu together somewhat at random ; and ail that can be said for their merits is, that they are the production of practical Anglers, and are addressed to the feelings and sentiments of those who have a sympathy with them in the prosecution of their common craft. A man who makes verses with a rod in his hand, on his wanderings and musings on the river side, does not pretend to appeal to the deep sympathies of the world at large. His themes are trite—his range very limited ; and the extent of his ambition is, that his effusions may be relished by those who are fond of a common source of amusement and recreation. He challenges no learned criticism, nor does he expect his brow to be encircled with wreaths of laurel. For enthusiastic Anglers—and they are now a numerous and daily-increasing body in every civilized country—this volume is, therefore, more especially designed. And I can only say, that if the reader derives half the pleasure from its perusal, that I have experienced in collecting its contents, he will find it the cheapest work he ever purchased.
The Angler's Songbook, Index
Deduct 100 from the numbers show to get the original page numbers from the book.
|Title Page PREFACE PREFACE CONTENTS CONTENTS CONTENTS CONTENTS CONTENTS CONTENTS CONTENTS CONTENTS CONTENTS When fair Aurora, rising early, shews - 0101 Glide gently, thus for ever glide, You that tish for dace and roaches, - 0102 When vernal airs perfume the fields, - 0103 All in the fragrant prime of day, - 0104 As things most lov'd excite our talk, - 0105 Page - 0106 When artful flies the angler would prepare, A thousand foes the finny people chase, - 0107 Page - 0108 You must not every worm promiscuous use, In genial Spring, beneath the quiv'rin' shade, - 0109 Oh, while fishing lasts, enjoy it, The smallest fry grow fish in time, - 0110 Page - 0111 I in those flowery meads would be, - 0112 Hail! gentle stream, for ever dear, - 0113 Mark the angler's watchful eye, A Crab there was, a dashing young blade, - 0114 Page - 0115 Come, rouse, brother sportsmen. - 0116 One fine May-morn the wind was south, - 0117 Page - 0118 Tom Trout, by native industry, was taught - 0119 Cocoa-nut naught, fish too dear, - 0120 By an angling stream, on a Midsummer's day, - 0121 The river runs muddy to-day, - 0122 There's a sultry cloud, that now doth shroud, - 0123 Lord Endless, walking to the Hall, - 0124 Page - 0125 Farewell, thou busy world, - 0126 Page - 0127 Page - 0128 Drear night has dropped her sable veil, - 0129 Page - 0130 Then, Pundants wise, pray don't despise, The morning look'd grey, - 0131 Page - 0132 Page - 0133 Why flyest thou away with fear ? - 0134 Anxious by the gliding stream, - 0135 Fill'd with the feasts the sun or shower betrays - 0136 Should Fortune bless with halcyon scenes - 0137 The early sun is rising fair and bright, - 0138 Page - 0139 Old Winter is gone, - 0140 When I was a mere school-boy, - 0141 Page - 0142 Page - 0143 O ! the marvellous at Thornville House, - 0144 Page - 0145 Far away from the noise and deceptions of trade, - 0146 How oft times with my rod in hand, - 0147 Page - 0148 Robin Grey, an angler, - 0149 A fisherman one morn display'd, - 0150 I've lost my rod, my flies, and knife, To anule I went to the drains, - 0151 The rising sun's resplendent beams, - 0152 Hark ! the warbling birds around, - 0153 Give me the babbling brook that plays, - 0154 Page - 0155 No doubt St. Patrick was an angler, - 0156 From town I walk'd to take the air, - 0157 Last night Tom Snooks, says he to me, - 0158 Page - 0159 Break up the house, go more of your mag, - 0160 South-west blows the wind, and a lowering sky - 0161 I went down by The Angler to Ditton— - 0162 Page - 0163 Or haply on some river's cooling bank, - 0164 The day is clear, the wind is fair, - 0165 Come, fuddle, fuddle, drink about, - 0166 Gentle stranger, have you seen, - 0167 Young smiling Spring, all clad in green, - 0168 On the banks of some peaceful stream, - 0169 Thou bonny fish from the far sea - 0170 Page - 0171 You see the ways the fisherman doth take - 0172 It chanc'd that an angler, who liv'd at Cheapside - 0173 Northumberland lads, who use the gads, - 0174 Let us love to be merry and wise, - 0175 When I was young and in my prime, - 0176 Page - 0177 There was a gentle angler, - 0178 Come, changefyour-taper rods, my lads - 0179 The heavens are bright, the morning gale, - 0180 Page - 0181 Come, my lads, from your pillows spring, - 0182 Page - 0183 What equals on earth the delight of the angler, - 0184 Angling one summer morn alone, - 0185 Care knows not the lad that is merry, - 0186 Awake, up, up '^and away to the streams, - 0187 Albeit, gentle reader, 1 delight not in my trade - 0188 O'er moorland and mountain, - 0189 Reclin'd upon a bank of moss, - 0190 In day's of old, when first refinement's light - 0191 To the stream let us go, How sweet is the breath of the briar, - 0192 As pants the hart for water brooks, - 0193 Page - 0194 Haste to the streamlet ! see, the sun - 0195 Page - 0196 Oh ! pleasant are the green banks of the Lea, - 0197 Page - 0198 The Rud, a kind of roach, all ting'd with gold - 0199 By purling streams, in shady dell, - 0200 Let's fish and let's sing together, - 0201 Dark is the ever flowing stream, - 0202 Beneath the still waters is the Fen King, - 0203 Page - 0204 At setting eve and rising morn, - 0205 To campes and courts let others rove, - 0206 The dark grey of gloamin', the lone leafy shaw, An angler's life has joys for me, - 0207 Let others crowd the giddy court, - 0208 When this old rod was new, - 0209 Page - 0210 Page - 0211 Page - 0212 Some youthful gallant here perhaps will say, Farewell to the maid of my heart, - 0213 Page - 0214 Here's a bumper to rod and to spear! - 0215 Sure Whiting is no fasting Dish, - 0216 Come, launch the light canoe, - 0217 Bright flowers are sinking, With rod and line in hand, - 0218 Me no pleasure shall enamour, - 0219 Tho' jest-loving wight has thought fit to divine, - 0220 Hail ! gentle goddess, blooming Spring, By shady woods and purling streams, - 0221 What pleasures wait the angler's life, - 0222 Page - 0223 Hark ! anglers of the north, - 0224 Some morning now with balm unwonted fraught - 0225 On Till's clear streams that runs so deep, If any so wise is, that angling despises, - 0226 He gazed with admiration unsurpassed, - 0227 Page - 0228 Loe, in a little boat whene one doth stand, Around cap-a-pie, with baskets, bags, & rods - 0229 Page - 0230 Bring thy rod to the peaceful rill, - 0231 Right socially we live, and never disagree, When cauld winter is past, - 0232 Page - 0233 Page - 0234 Push about the bottle, lads, - 0235 Broader rivers please us then, - 0236 Page - 0237 But if the breathless chase o'er hill and dale, - 0238 Blow, zephyr, and whisper the maid, - 0239 It was on a summer's morning, - 0240 Page - 0241 Away with dull care, and rigid frugality - 0242 Here's good luck to the gad, - 0243 Fill, boys, and drink, wine will banish sorrow, T, - 0244 The greedy pike lies basking cool, - 0245 Page - 0246 Hail, Angling pleasure, - 0247 The lassie by the streamlet side, - 0248 Page - 0249 It was the charming month of May, - 0250 My grandsire is an angler old, - 0251 Swift stream, if e'er thy limpid flow, - 0252 The rising sun, with ruddy locks, - 0253 A brother of the angle must always be sped, - 0254 The noithern lights are flashing, - 0255 When I desire to muse alone, Come, let us laugh, let us angle and sing, - 0256 I have climb'd by the mountain rills, - 0257 To you, true fishers, now in town, We are all just like brother and brother, - 0258 Let landsmen boast of pleasures. - 0259 Come, follow me, right down the lea, - 0260 No glory I covet, no riches I want, - 0261 In childhood's davs, when summer came, - 0262 Page - 0263 'Tis life to young anglers in early spring time, Angling and free, for pleasure born, - 0264 O bliss divine ! a salmon flound'ring at my line, Think, when thou seest the bait, - 0265 When the sun is shining low, - 0266 When vernal airs perfume the fields, - 0267 What beauties does Flora disclose, - 0268 If thou lovest a quiet joy, - 0269 Ye fishermen of Scotland, - 0270 Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, - 0271 Sportive young River, we've rambled together. - 0272 Page - 0273 Mr. Walton, it's harsh to say it, - 0274 Page - 0275 Fishing weather's coming, lads, - 0276 And this, the bravest fellow, - 0277 Page - 0278 Page - 0279 Page - 0280 Page - 0281 Page - 0282 Angling tends our bodies to exercise, - 0283 Thy wooded heights, fair Canche, I leave, - 0284 I've seen the smiling primrose flower - 0285 Vale of bliss ! what joy to wander, - 0286 The waters not too high, too thick, too clear - 0287 What though the hunter's horn be mute, - 0288 When worldly cares corrode the heart, - 0289 A hungry fish once chanc'd to spy, - 0290 0 world's deceit! how are we thrall'd by thee. - 0291 On Tweed's bonnie banks, in summer's gay light - 0292 Some friends of mine, for mirth and glee, - 0293 Page - 0294 Page - 0295 When blythesome May brings heather bells, - 0296 By silver streams and tuneful grove, - 0297 The waters, the waters, how clearly they flow, Thou art a frail and lovely thing, - 0298 Ye who with rod and line aspire to catch, - 0299 The sun of the eve was warm and bright - 0300 Page - 0301 God quicken'd in the sea, and in the rivers, - 0302 This day dame Nature seem'd in love, - 0303 Awake, awake, the May-morn Sun, - 0304 Page - 0305 Before the fire we sit and sing, - 0306 Of all the sports and pastimes, - 0307 Is that dace or perch ? said Alderman Birch, - 0308 I roam beneath a foreign sky, - 0309 0 let my hat be e'er so brown, - 0310 As in successive course the season roll, - 0311 Our sport is with the salmon rod, - 0312 Page - 0313 Haste, anglers, arise ! from your pillows, arise - 0314 Page - 0315 When sweet Spring, my friend, shall smiling - 0316 All arts and shapes the wily angler tries, - 0317 Through the long morning have I toil'd - 0318 Page - 0319 Wi' boundin' step and gladsome e'e, - 0320 Page - 0321 In deeps the silver Salmon loves to rove, - 0322 Come over the moor, come over the lea, - 0323 The last time I fish'd down this stream, - 0324 O, away to the Tweed, to the beautiful Tweed - 0325 Page - 0326 Page - 0327 On yon fair brook's enamell'd side, - 0328 Page - 0329 Awake, my boys—awake, arise ! - 0330 Mark well the various seasons of the year. - 0331 On thy banks, limpid Thames, as I stand, - 0332 My lover he lives by the pure river side, On Tweed's fair banks a castle stands, - 0333 Page - 0334 Page - 0335 No more the angler's silent trade I ply, - 0336 Page - 0337 O! Mary, look, how sweetly Spring - 0338 When smiling felicity warbles her song, - 0339 We're all a-fishing, fish, fish, fishing, - 0340 Of all the recreations which, - 0341 Page - 0342 Oh, the days when we went an angling, - 0343 Page - 0344 No fairer land can meet the eye, - 0345 But I'll tak' leave o' queenly Dee, - 0346 I winna sing o' war nor wine, - 0347 Come, anglers, come, for work prepare, - 0348 Now the finny brood united, - 0349 It's late, my lad, to tak' the gad, - 0350 Page - 0351 Anxious, by the gliding stream, - 0352 As late by the Thames's verdant side, - 0353 O bold singing spirit of Loch Neagh's lovely vale - 0354 Up, angler, up, and be off to the river, - 0355 Bright blaz'd the fire of crackling wood, - 0356 When atop the hoary western hill, - 0357 Page - 0358 To you who love the lonely shade, - 0359 Page - 0360 Page - 0361 Page - 0362 Who has not, if he's fond of whim, - 0363 Page - 0364 Page - 0365 Page - 0366 With feelings strange and undefined, - 0367 Page - 0368 The Rhine, the Rhine, thou noble stream, - 0369 Come, fairest land, we owe to thee, - 0370 Page - 0371 It was on the Liffy's higher streams, - 0372 Grown tir'd of the town and its noisy pursuit - 0373 The grass is wet with shining dew, - 0374 Thou that hast lov'd so long and well, - 0375 Page - 0376|