with as a gentleman in a court dress herding 

 sheep on Cheviot. 



THE ANGLER'S INVITATION. 



THE wild bull his covert in Chillingham wood 



Has left, and now browses the daisy-strewed plain ; 

 The May-fly and swallow are skimming the flood, 



And sweet in the hedge blooms the hawthorn again ; 

 The young lambs are skipping on Cheviot's broad mountain, 



The heather springs green upon Whitsun-bank side ; 

 The streams are as clear as the limestone-rock fountain, 



And sweet is the palm blossom's scent where they glide. 



O leave for a while the dull smoke of the city ; 



Sons of gain, quit your desks, and your ledgers lay by, 

 Seek health in the fields while each bird sings its ditty, 



And breathe the pure air underneath the broad sky. 

 Sons of pleasure, come view the sweet primroses springing, 



Leave the scene where the light figurante whirls round ; 

 Come, list to the lark in the blue ether singing, 



Come, see how the deer in the green forest bound. 



The glad trout is roaming in every clear stream, 



And the gilse and the salmon now drink the May flood ; 

 Then, anglers, be up with the sun's early beam, 



Let your flies be in trim and your tackle be good ; 

 In Till there's good store of fat trouts to be won, 



Let your skill load your creels as you wander along, 

 And at night, as you tell of the feats you have done, 



Cheer your talk with a cup of good wine and a song. 



