ANCIENT ANGLING AUTHORS 179 



The gladsome Birds begin their various Lays, 



And fill with Song the blooming Sprays ; 



No swelling Inundation hides the Grounds, 



But crystal Currents glide within their Bounds ; 



The sporting Fish their wonted Haunts forsake, 



And in the Rivers wide Excursions take ; 



They range with frequent Leaps the shallow Streams, 



And their bright Scales reflect the dazzling Beams. 



The Fisherman does now his Toils prepare, 



And arms himself with every wat'ry Snare, 



He meditates new Methods to betray, 



Thr'eat'ning destruction to the finny Prey. 



When floating Clouds their spongy Fleeces drain, 



Troubling the streams with fast descending rain, 



And Waters, tumbling down the Mountain's side, 



Bear the loose Soil into the swelling Tide ; 



Then, soon as Vernal Gales begin to rise, 



And drive the liquid Burthen through the Skies, 



The Fisher strait his Taper Rod prepares, 



And to the Neighb'ring Stream in haste repairs ; 



Upon a rising Border of the Brook 



He sits him down, and ties the treach'rous Hook ; 



A twining Earth-worm he draws on with Care, 



With which he neatly hides the pointed Snare. 



Now Expectation cheers his eager Thought, 



His Bosom glows with Treasures yet uncaught, 



Before his Eyes a Banquet seems to stand, 



The kind Effects of his industrious Hand. 



Into the Stream the twisted Hair he throws, 



Which gently down the murm'ring Current flows ; 



When, if or Chance or Hunger's pow'rful Sway 



Directs a ranging Trout this fatal way, 



He greedily sucks in the tortur'd Bait, 



And shoots away with the fallacious Meat. 



The trembling Rod the joyful Angler eyes, 



And strait the Line assures him of the Prize ; 



With a quick Hand the nibbled Hook he draws, 



And strikes the barbed Steel within his Jaws ; 



The Fish now flounces with the startling Pain, 



And, plunging, strives to free himself, in vain : 



