AD LECTOKEM. 



Gentle Header, if this name 

 Fits your character, no blame 

 Will you cast on this endeavour 

 Fishing sports from pain to sever. 

 Only follow out my book, 

 Then no wriggling worm on hook, 

 Nor live roach, nor gudgeon spitted, 

 Dying by inches and unpitied, 

 Nor captured fish, e'en death denied, 

 Grasping by the water-side, 

 Left in agony to pine, 

 Shall disgrace your rod and line. 

 " Mercy," so our poet sings,* 

 " Like the dew on earthly things, 

 " Falls from heaven, to embrace - 

 " Man below with her sweet grace." 

 I will, then, entreat her well 

 While she deigns with me to dwell ; 

 And for love will I escort her 

 In her search beneath the water. 

 On a sunbeam we will glide, 

 Sweet companions, side by side, 

 Where, amidst their oozy beds, 

 Kiver weeds entwine their threads, 

 And joyful fishes shall in her see 

 Their longed-for benefactress, Mercy. 

 My aim, then, do not judge absurd, 

 But come with us and make a third ; 

 Fair Mercy first, then you and I, 

 With ground bait, minnow, net, or fly. 



C. A. R. 



Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice. 



