THE A^^GLEE'S JOY. 



BY W. W. 



ET misers hoard their yellow store, 

 Let sailors tempt the raging main, 

 Let soldiers wade the fields of gore, 

 Ambitious prize to gain : 

 Let statesmen plot and courtiers fawn, 



Give silly sots their wine ; 

 But give to me the rolling stream, 

 The rod, the reel, the line. 



O, ye who seek in worldly cares. 



Content or peace of mind. 

 Come learn ye from the angler's art, 



The bliss you cannot find. 

 It is not 'neath the gilded roof, 



It is not in the hall, 

 Nor is it in your gathered gold. 



The pleasure sought by all. 



It is beside the wimpling stream, 



Within a peaceful glen, 

 Where silent nature tempts to stray 



Afar from toiline: men — 



