82 LONDON ANGLER'S BOOK, 



With a straight willow wand, penny float, and hair line, 

 Forth to the New River his course did incline, 

 With delight in his eye as he baited his hook, 

 Success crowned his efforts, some Gudgeons he took, 

 And his playmates all said when around him they ran 

 To look at the fish he had put in his can 

 That he was a good little Angler. 

 That he was, &c. 



2. 



To manhood advancing, tho' slender his frame, 

 Izaak Walton to follow his wish was the same, 

 Contented at heart, his wants were but few 

 When the broad book of nature was ope'd to his view, 

 More choice now his baits, rod, taper and fine, 

 Chub and Roach he could kill with a single hair line, 

 He look'd forward with hope for the fortunate time, 

 When by trolling to kill some good jack in their prime, 

 For he wish'd to become a good Angler. 

 For he wished, &c. 



3. 



Matured he became an Angler complete, 

 With Cotton in fly fishing he could compete, 

 Dress a fly, tie a hook, judge of water or wind, 

 Of success not too sanguine, if unlucky resigned, 

 Young Anglers ne'er asked information in vain, 



