92 THE AUTHOR'S REPLY. 



Now all you sporting blades may glean, 

 From this it is not safe to lean, 

 At all times o'er a stake or pile, 

 Lest you, as I, should lose your tile. 



But wisely con the chances o'er 

 Precipitance oft proves a bore 

 And from the adage much you'll reap, 

 " Always look before you leap." 



And never in your zeal forego, 

 Disrcretion's maxim " Sure.tho' slow ;" 

 These not attending, 'gainst my wish, 

 Had nearly made me food for fish. 



LINES 



11 Y THE AUTHOR IN ANSWER TO THE ABOVE. 



Sir, in reply to you, I write, wishing you merry cheer, 



Certainly I must allow it's a dull time of the year 



To write or think of anglTng as the season now is o'er ; 



Ne'ertheless we'll have a chat of what has been done before, 



For many pleasant hours we've spent beneath th' embowering shade, 



Oft made the fly, and tap'd the flask, within the silent glade. 



And yet thoughts of old mother Dane still occupies my pate, 



For some of her bright spangled trout look well upon a plate, 



In a wicker creel, or trencher, or on a table spread ; 



But a fish you must allow would look shocking on your head ; 



Your coat pocket I should think, would hold the trout much faster, 



Than in the flimsy lining of any slap-up castor. 



You wrote to me of slippery piles which line the river Dane, 

 To protect those verdant flowery banks from the liquid plain ; 

 You tell me they are insecure, and some of rotten wood, 

 For as you disengaged your line they pitch'd you in the flood. 

 I laugh'd to think how you'd look as your fish i'th' water sunk, 

 I smiling thought within myself surely the man was drunk. 



