The Angler's Songbook - online

A Collection of complete lyrics for 200+ Songs Related to Angling

Compiled and Edited By Robert Blakey, Published By George Cox London, Circa 1855

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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