66 AN ANGLER'S BASKET. 



Our gentle craft is devoid of strife, 

 As a happy man and a loving wife, 

 And there is no boon like a quiet life, 

 Or a well-filled creel of a morning. 



THE ANGLER'S INVITATION. 



Come lads with me, your ledgers hide, 

 Fair blows the wind this April tide, 

 The streams runs free since winter died 



So stern and wild ; 

 And glad is all the country side 



As some young child. 



Melodious birds sing all day long, 

 The river choruses their song, 

 All is pure, for nought is wrong 



Where guile is lost ; 

 We've left behind the noisy throng 



In barter lost. 



Put on your minnow or your flies, 

 The clouds are soft, the trout will rise, 

 To-day we'll cheat their watchful eyes 



By honest skill, 

 And safely landing many a prize, 



Our baskets fill. 



There's murder in the red-capped king, 

 The iron-blue, whose saucy wing 

 Full many a longing eye will bring 



In trout and swallows ; 

 There's fortune in the dainty thing, 



And all that follows. 



