OR WALTONIAN CHRONICLE. 185 



Let to us no scornful finger, 



Deriding point our hopes to lower ; 

 We fisli o'er each wave as it ripples in gloom, 

 Then joyful return to our Angling home. 

 Then when we leave, &c. 



4. 



May no danger hover o'er us, 



To fret the honest Angler's heart; 

 May we live in health the life hefore us, 



To fish in peace till we must part ; 

 But far very far he the day of our doom, 

 When we part from our friends and our Angling home. 

 Then when we leave, &c. 



I have only now to crave the reader's patience for 

 the errors he may have discovered, and hope that he 

 has been amused, if not instructed. 



