efantetl Hmtattott. n 



And there all day till Night, 

 I reap a double sweet delight; 

 In thy Meanders among the watery crew, 

 Tunbridge comes next and stor'd with Poachers 



plenty, 

 Large is thy stream, of Fish yet almost empty. 



Large Nets the game do so destroy, 

 That with an Angle few we can decoy ; 



But here perforce 1 must give o'r, 

 A stranger I'm unto the Neighbouring shore, 

 The Current's strong and swiftly speeds, 

 By Divers turnings through the Meads 



To Maidstone. 



Where Oyster Ketches they in plenty ply, 

 And other Vessels twice as big or nigh, 



Are coming home 



From Rochester, where with the Medway she, 

 Most kindly meets and both fall in the Sea. 



Muse sing now the Trout, with all his Arts, 

 His haunts, his motion and his sudden starts, 

 Whene'er a curious fly drops in the stream 

 Make him thy choice and chuse him for thy Theam. 



The off-spring of the fair Darwent, 

 In thousand pleasing Ruptures see him rise, 

 With Murmuring pleasures to our Ears and Eyes; 

 To force himself a vent, 



In 

 c 



