COMPLETE ANGLER. 



287 



QUARLES. 



The broad-side bream, 



The wary trout that thrives against the stream ; 

 The well-grown carp, full laden with her spawn. 



The surest way 



To take the fish, is give her leave to play, 

 And yield her line. Shepheard's Eglogues. 



You see the ways the fishermen doth take 

 To catch the fish; what engines doth he 



make? 



Behold ! how he engafjeth all his wits ; 

 Also his snares, lines, angles, hooks, and nets : 



BUNYAN. 



Yet fish there be, that neither hook nor line, 

 Nor snare, nor net, nor engine, can make 



thine : 



They must be grop'd for, and he tickled too, 

 Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do. 



POPE. 



In genial spring, beneath the quivering shade, 

 When cooling vapours breathe along the 



mead, 



The patient fisher takes his silent stand, 

 Intent, his angle trembling in his hand : 

 With looks unmoved, he hopes the scaly 



breed, 

 And eyes the dancing cork and bending reed. 



Our plenteous streams a various'race supply, 

 The bright-eyed perch with fins of Tyrian dye : 

 The silver eel, in shining volumes roll'd ; 

 The yellow carp, in scales bedropp'd with 



gold ; 



Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains ; 

 And pikes, the tyrants of the watery plains. 

 Windsor Forest. 



GAY. 



When genial Spring a living warmth bestows, 

 And o'er the year her verdant mantle throws, 

 No swelling inundation hides the grounds, 

 But crystal currents glide within their bounds ; 

 The finny brood their wonted haunts forsake, 

 F oat in the sun, and skim along the lake ; 

 V'ith frequent leap they range the shallow 



streams, 



Their silver coats reflect the dazzling beams : 

 Now let the fisherman his toils prepare, 

 And arm himself with every wat'ry snare: 

 His hooks, his lines, peruse with careful eye, 

 Increase his tackle, and his rod retie. 

 When floating clouds their spongy fleeces 



drain, 

 Troubling the streams with swift-descending 



rain. 

 And waters 'tumbling down the mountain's 



side, 



Bear the loose soil into the swelling tide, 

 Then, soon as vernal gales begin to rise, 

 And drive the liquid burden through the skies, 

 The fisher to the neighbouring current speeds, 

 Whose rapid surface purls, unknown to weeds ; 

 Upon a rising border of the brook 

 He sits him down, and ties the treach'rous 



hook; 



Now expectation cheers his eager thought, 

 His bosom glows with treasures yet uncaught ; 

 Before his eyes a banquet seems to stand, 

 Where everv guest applauds his skilful hand. 

 Far up the stream the twisted hair he 



throws, 

 Which down the murm'ring current gently 



flows; 



When if or chance or hunger's pow'rful sway 

 Directs the roving trout this fatal way, 



He greedily sucks in the twining bait, 

 And tugs and nibbles the fallacious meat : 

 Now, happy Fisherman ! now twitch the line ! 

 How thy rod bends ! behold, the prize is 



thine ! 



Cast on the bank, he dies with gasping pains, 

 And trickling blood his silver mail distains. 



You must not every worm promiscuous use ; 

 Judgment will tell thee proper bait to choose ; 

 The worm that draws a long immod'rate size 

 The trout abhors, and the rank morsel flies ; 

 And if too small, the naked fraud's in sight, 

 And fear forbids, while hunger does invite. 

 Those baits will best reward the fisher's pains, 

 Whose polish 'd tails a shining yellow stains : 

 Cleanse them from filth, to give a tempting 



gloss, 



Cherish the sullied reptile race with moss ; 

 Amid the verdant bed, they twine, they toil, 

 And from their bodies wipe their native soil. 

 But when the sun displays his glorious 



beams, 



And shallow rivers flow with silver streams, 

 Then the deceit the scaly breed survey, 

 Bask in the sun and look into the day : 

 You now a more delusive art must try, 

 And tempt their hunger with the curious fly. 



To frame the little animal, provide 

 All the gay hues that wait on female pride : 

 Let Nature guide thee ; sometimes golden 



wire 



The shining bellies of the fly require ; 

 The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not 



fail, 



Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail. 

 Each gaudy bird some slender tribute brings, 

 And lends the growing insect proper wings ; 



