THE ANGLER'S WISH.

I IN these flowery meads would be;

These crystal streams should solace me;

To whose harmonious bubbling noise,

I with my angle would rejoice;
Sit here and see the turtle-dove
Court his chaste mate to acts of love;

Or on that bank feel the west wind
Breathe health and plenty: please my mind,
To see sweet dew-drops kiss these flowers,
And then wash'd off by April showers;

Here, hear my Kenna sing a song;

There, see a blackbird feed her young,

THE ANf.I.ERS WISH.

Or a laverock build her nest:

Here, give my weary spirits rest,

And raise my low-pitched thoughts above

Earth, or what poor mortals love:

Thus, free from law-suits and the noise

Of princes' courts, I would rejoice.

Or, with my Bryan and a book,

Loiter long days near Shawford brook;

There sit by him, and eat my meat,

There see the sun both rise and set,

There bid good morning to next day,

There meditate my time away,
And angle on; and beg to have
A quiet passage to a welcome grave.

Izaak Walton.