THE ANGLER'S JOY. 39 



To hear the mavis from the shaw 



Salute his brooding mate, 

 Or view the dimphng flies that play 



Unheedful of their fate. 

 Wherever strays the willing foot, 



New scenes and fairer rise ; 

 Where'er we look, to bank or stream, 



New pleasures meet the eyes. 



Fair Annan ! on thy blooming banks, 



The summer's day has past, 

 Till evening hush'd the ruddy scene 



In purple folds to rest — 

 While still I wander'd by thy side, 



And drank of joys my fill ; 

 What joys so pure as those we find 



Beside a murmurinsf rill .'' 



