AND ANGLING SONGS. 257 



XXXIV. 



The ringings as of liquid bells 

 That break the silence overhead, 

 And hovering o'er the river's bed 



Set bubbling the enchanted wells. 



xxxv. 



Hands feebly dropt are raised again 



Tongues loosen'd to make thankful prayer- 

 Hearts cheer' d eyes lighten'd everywhere ; 



Oh ! welcome rain ! oh ! welcome rain ! 



PART II. 



Oh ! angler, thine experience tell, 



In faulty rhymes, of this fierce drought, 

 How it prevail'd within, without 



And chain'd thee with its weary spell. 



ii. 



Speak to the reason running wild 



Of those who waste our valley's wealth, 

 And on the crystal tide of health 



Cast things defiling and defiled ; 



in. 



Who drain the juices of our land, 

 Reckless of what the need may be 

 To us and to posterity, 



So that the profit comes to hand. 

 R 



