I2O THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



THE ANGLER'S SONG. 



As inward love breeds outward talk, 

 The hound some praise, and some the hawk ; 

 Some, better pleased with private sport, 

 Use tennis, some a mistress court : 



But these delights I neither wish, 



Nor envy, while I freely fish. 



Who hunts, doth oft in danger ride ; 



Who hawks, lures oft both far and wide ; 



Who uses games, shall often prove 



A loser ; but who falls in love 



Is fettered in fond Cupid's snare : 

 My angle breeds me no such care. 



Of recreation there is none 

 So free as fishing is alone; 

 All other pastimes do no less 

 Than mind and body both possess : 



My hand alone my work can do, 



So I can fish and study too. 



I care not, I, to fish in seas ; 



Fresh rivers best my mind do please, 



Whose sweet calm course I contemplate, 



And seek m life to imitate : 



In civil bounds I fain would keep, 

 And for my past offences weep. 



And when the timorous trout I wait 



To take, and he devours my bait, 



How poor a thing, sometimes I find, 



Will captivate a greedy mind ! 



And when none bite I praise the wise, 

 Whom vain allurements ne'er surprise. 



