2 5 8 



THE ANGLE !?S SOUVEN[R. 



And swift and wide, 

 With a muddy tide, 

 Like a river down the gutter pours 



The rain, the welcome rain ! 



The sick man from his chamber 



Looks at the twisted brooks ; 



He can feel the cool 



Breath of each little pool ,- 



His fevered brain 



Grows calm again, 



And he breathes a blessing on the rain. 



In the country on every side, 

 "Where far and wide, 

 Like a leopard's tawny and spotted hide, 

 Stretches tho plain, 

 To the dry grass and the drier grain, 

 How welcome is the rain ! ' 



The brooks rise and lose their transparency, and 

 presently rush down in a yellow flood to the rivers 

 which ere long renew their strength, and roll majes- 

 tically between their receding banks. The country 

 springs at a bound from death to life. The fresh 

 greenness of the vegetation is a positive delight. 

 The air is cool, and laden with the life-giving 

 incense which arises from the steaming plants, 

 and all nature is grateful for the relief brought 

 by the welcome rain. 



Now, too, is the time when the rustic angler is 

 in his glory. His hazel bough and coarse line are 

 as effective in the muddy waters as the most 

 finished appliances of the wealthy angler. A worm 



