AND ANGLING SONGS. 77 



II. 



Nor in cities, nor with courtiers, nor within the kingly palace, 



So flowing in its measure 



Is the rife cup of our pleasure, 

 As when with wand and pannier we tread the daisied valleys. 



in. 



Would we give the grey lark's carol for the cold lip-utter'd 

 chorus, 



Or heaven's ample covering, 

 Where the minstrel bird is hovering, 

 For the lamp-lit roofs that elevate their stately arches o'er us 1 



IV. 



Would we give our wild, free rambles, for the reveller's heated 

 prison 1 



Or with the false and fawning, 

 Consume a summer's dawning, 

 Rather than greet the joyful sun from his couch of clouds arisen 1 ? 



v. 



Would we give our water-sceptre for the staves of state and 

 splendour ? 



Or exchange the angler's calling 

 On the shady river trolling, 

 For all the lesser pleasances that pomp or power can tender ? 



VI. 



Though bewitching are the hues that wrap the world's every folly, 



No longer they invite us, 



While truer joys delight us 



By the stream- side as we roam, below the hawthorn and the 

 holly. 



