38 ANGLERS' EVENINGS. 



When sailing clouds obstruct the sun, 

 And dripping showers descend, 



Beside a breezy, haunted pool. 

 Where leafy alders bend. 



How sweet, with gliding step to steal 



Along the margent green. 

 Alone, or with a silent friend 



At gentle distance seen — 

 To drop the fly with skilful hand 



By stones Avith moss grown grey, 

 Where, deep beneath, the eager trout 



Awaits his floating prey. 



To see, amid the waters brown, 



His gleaming sides appear, 

 And mark him dart, with many a bound, 



The stinging barb to clear ; 

 But soon the music of the reel. 



Grows slow, and fainter still, 

 Then tir'd, reluctant to the strand 



You guide him at your will. 



Not less the bliss to mark at times, 



With eye to nature keen, 

 Unnumber'd beauties, all disclosed 



As shifts the verdant scene : — 

 The water-craw upon her stone. 



With breast of virgin snow — 

 The heron, from her station scar'd. 



With flagging wing and slow. 



