144 FISHING GOSSIP. 
HEY FOR COQUET! 
Awa’ frae the smoke an’ the smother! 
Awa’ frae the crush o’ the thrang ! 
Awa’ frae the labour an’ pother, 
That hae fettered our freedom sae lang! 
For the May’s 7 fw bloom 7? the hedges, 
An’ the laverock’s aloft i’ the blue, 
An’ the south-wind sings low 7’ the sedges, 
By haughs that are silvery wi dew. 
Up, angler, off wi’ each shackle! 
Up, gad an’ gaff, an’ awa’! 
Cry—Hurrah! for the canny “red heckle, 
The heckle that tackled them a’ !” 
Off, off to the bonnie brown Norland !— 
It haunts me for aye i’ my dreams— 
To torrent, an’ mountain, an’ muirland, 
An’ to Coquet, the queen o’ the streams ! 
To Coquet, the beautifu’ river, 
Beloved by the bards that sae lang 
Upheld her the foremost for ever, 
An’ hallowed her banks wi’ their sang! 
Up, angler, off wi’ each shackle, etc. 
