90 AN ADDRESS TO THE AUTHOR. 



Now cast your line a yard above, 

 If deftly done his mood 'twill prove. 

 And if you throw* direct, not crook'd, 

 'Tis ten to one the beggar's hook'd. 



Now comes the time your skill to prove, 

 For if with hasty steps you move, 

 Sure as a gun your victim 'scapes, 

 By tugging sheer, or else by breaks. 



But you must temper him j in fine, 

 Give him due length of rod and line, 

 But not too much ; for if you do, 

 It rather will untemper jou. 



And think not at an end your sport, 

 Until he's fairly 'twod' in port ; 

 Nor yet in strictness may you own him, 

 Till in the pannier you have thrown him. 



And here, appropos, 1 may tell, 



An incident myself befel . 



While fishing on the banks of Dane, 



There came a drenching shower of rain ; 



On this, my line, I 'gan to heave, 

 Thinking with haste the scene to leave, 

 When lo ! a check without a rise, 

 Told me I'd hook'd a noble prize. 



Soon as I found how matters stood, 

 I slack'd my line of horse hair good, 

 Keeping however so tight a hand, 

 As serv'd to keep him in command. 



'Twas long to tell what crafty art, 

 Evinced as slow I played my part; 

 Suffice to say, the fish was ta'en, 

 While down in torrents fell the rain. 



I raised him, nor a thought once crost me 

 How dearly had his capture cost me ; 

 When sudden it came to my mind, 

 My pannier I had left behind. 



