17 



This Fish takes no delight in Rivers much to be, 

 But pent in Ponds injoys a sweet Captivity, 

 Well stored with such our Kentish grounds they 



are, 



And Sussex too yields some exceeding rare; 

 For there I know a little Brook which runs, 

 First with a gentle stream then silent turns 

 Into a mighty Pond, and finding there a stay, 

 Bemoans himself to have a freer way, 



Like to a dying Stag at Bay ; 

 There's Carps the glory of the Land, some be 



Thirty Inches long excepting three. 

 And weighty too when brought unto the ground, 

 Each Carp if large, may weigh at least five Pound, 

 When Sol's bright rays began for to decline, 

 A Reverend Matron* with a Hook and Line, 



Had nick'd the most auspicious time: 

 Silent she goes and takes a shady stand, 

 W r atchful her eye and steady was her hand, 

 For well she knew them both for to command, 

 A worm well scour'd without the help of stink- 

 ing tar, 



That was her bait, arid that was best by far, 

 Tho to my cost I've try'd and certain know, 

 That Tarr's strong stench hath little here to do, 



* Mrs. Barges, of Withyham. 



But 



