56 LONDON ANGLER'S BOOK, 



Twas on a Spring morning, 

 Just as 'twas dawning, 



When I wandered as free and as light as the wind, 

 By a clear purpling river, 

 Where I would be ever, 

 When this little ditty came into my mind. 

 'Twas on, &c. 



2. 



In thought, an old otter came by with his prize, 

 A Trout which you all know, if real, would grieve me sore, 

 No wonder, cried I, that I can't get a rise, 

 You grizzly old poacher let me see your face no more, 

 Indeed but you will Sir, 

 I will never keep still Sir, 



I have sworn that the fishes shall die one and all, 

 For the keeper that sad he, 

 Killed my poor grand-daddy, 

 And my father and mother both fell by his ball. 

 'Twas on, &c. 



3. 



Away then he stole thro' the reeds to his den, 

 While I, wondering, walked on my way by the river, 

 Astonished at what I had seen there and then, 

 I heard a shrill voice say, I'll love you for ever. 

 'Twas an amorous Perch, 

 I found upon search, 



