SONGS. 



COME BRING YOUR RODS. 

 (Air" John Peel.") 



[This song, which owes its popularity to the music, was first sung at 

 the Tenth Annual Dinner of the Manchester Anglers' Association.] 



Come bring your rods to the sweet green fields, 

 O, come, while the grey dawn the bright sun shields, 

 O, come, share the joy that each streamlet yields, 

 And we'll all fill our creels of a morning. 



CHORUS (after each verse.) 



For the day is awake, and the lark overhead, 

 The bright trout are moving o'er each gravel'y bed ; 

 Come, anglers, arise ! ere the dew-drop be fled, 

 And the sun spoil the Pride of the Morning. 



Just for to-day let us fish, while we dream 

 That Care is drowned in the deep, deep stream, 

 And Hope kills Fear with her soft sweet beam, 

 As we all fill our creels of a morning. 



Down where the mill-tail gently glides, 

 Behold how the March-brown gaily rides, 

 Lo ! there, a " two-pounder" with silv'ry sides, 

 Which we'll put in our creel of a morning. 



