138 BEST ? S ART OF ANGLING. 



Nor shall the muse disdain 



To let the little livelv summer-race 

 Live in her lay, and flutter thro' her song : 

 Not mean, tho 1 simple; to the sun a'llv'd, 

 From him they draw their animating fire. 



Waked by his warmer ray, the reptile young 

 Come wing'd abroad, by the light air upborne, 

 Lighter and full of soul. From ev'ry chink 

 And secret corner, where they slept away 

 Their wintry storms, or rising from their tombs 

 To higher life, by myriads forth at once, 

 Swarming they pour, of all the varied hues 

 Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose. 

 Ten thousand forms, ten thousand different tribes, 

 People the blaze. To sunny waters some 

 By fatal instinct fly, where on the pool 

 They sportive wheel ; or tailing down the stream, 

 Are snatch'd immediate by the quick-ey'd trout 

 Or darting salmon. Thro' the green-wood glade 

 Some love to stray, there lodg'd, amus'd, and fed, 

 In the fresh leaf : luxurious, others make 

 The meads their choice, and visit ev'ry flow'r 

 - And ev'ry latent herb, for the sweet task 

 To propagate their kinds, and where to warp, 

 In what soft beds, their young, yet undisclosed, 

 Employs their tender care ; some to the house, 

 The fold, and dairy, hungry bend their flight, 

 Sip round the pail, or taste the curdling cheese: 

 Oft, inadvertant from the milky stream 

 They meet their fate, or welt'ring in the bowl, 

 With pow'rless wings around them warp'd, expire. 



Resounds the living surface of the ground j 

 Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum 

 To him who muses through the woods at noon, 

 Or drowsy shepherd as he lies reclin'd, 

 With half shut eyes, beneath the floating shade, 

 Of willows grey, close crowding o'er the brook. 



Gradual from these what numerous kinds descend, 

 Evading e'en the microscopic eye ! 

 Full nature swarms with life, one wondrous mass 

 Of animals, or atoms organ iz'd, 

 Waiting the vital breath, when parent heav'a 

 Shall bid liis spirit blow. " 



