262 THE COMPLETE AtfGLEB. [PART I. 



Pise. Well then, here's to you, Coridon ; and now for 

 my song. 



Oh ! the gallant fisher's life, 

 It is the best of any ; 

 'Tis full of pleasure, void of strife, 

 And 'tis beloved by many : 



Other joys 



Are but toys, 



Only this 



Lawful is ; 



For our skill 



Breeds no ill, 

 But content and pleasure. 



In a morning up we rise, 

 Ere Aurora's peeping : 

 Drink a cup to wash our eyes, 

 Leave the sluggard sleeping : 



Then we go 



To and fro, 



With our knacks 



At our backs, 



To such streams 



As the Thames, 

 If we have the leisure. 



When we please to walk abroad 

 For our recreation, 

 In the fields is our abode, 

 Full of delectation : 



Where in a brook 



With a hook, 



Or a lake, 



Fish we take ; 



There we sit, 



For a bit, 

 Till we fish entangle. 



We have gentles in a horn, 

 We have paste and worms too ; 

 We can watch both night and morn, 

 Suffer rain and storms too. 



None do here 



Use to swear, 



Oaths do fray 



Fish away ; 



We sit still, 



And watch our quill ; 

 Fishers must not wrangle. 



