Classic Poem

L ALET , Argol , M ICO .

Tho' Maro in divine Augustus ' Days
To Rome 's first Patriots tun'd the rural Lays,
Aw'd , must the Muse address her humbler Strain
To nobler Patriots in a greater Reign?

Thou D ODINGTON , of British Courts the Boast,
In whom the Poet's Hope is never lost,
While I by Streams in lowly Plains rejoice,
And bashful try, in Shades , my artless Voice ,
Wilt thou, best Poet , best of Patrons , heed
This homely Tribute of my rustic Reed?
O! ever to the British Muses dear,
And born their solitary Shades to cheer,
Beneath thy Influence shall our Isle no more
The boasted Art of Greece and Rome adore,
O'er ev'ry Clime her Genius shall prevail,
And Classic Bards, unborn, their own Apollo hail .

By a lone Stream that wash'd the Village Side
Two Social Youths the heedful Angle ply'd;
No Fisher-Lad did e'er their Skill exceed,
No Swain more deftly stop the tuneful Reed:
The Herdsman Mico , from a hilly Ground,
Close at their Sport the busy Artists found,
And to the Flood with hast'ning Steps drew near,
For much he lov'd their mirthful Songs to hear;
Safe in their Stalls his lowing Herds were laid,
And Bruma dress'd green Lentiles in the Shade:
For nigh at hand his lowly Hut was rear'd,
And thro' the Trees the dusky Thatch appear'd:
The winding River thro' his Meadow ran:
Soon to the Swains he join'd, and thus began.

Mic. ] WhatSport, ye Pair of Fisher Friends , relate,
Or feed the Shoal , or do they pass the Bait?

Lal. ] When Droughts like these the slack'ning Streams repress,
How, Mico , can the Angler hope Success?
The Fish , with sick'ning Looks, their Food refrain,
And seek the Coolness of the Deep in vain.
No kindly Rains the scanty Pools supply,
And running Brooks have ebb'd their Channels dry:
On muddy Banks their fishy Train they leave,
And with the Heat their parchy Bottoms cleave;
A russet Die embrowns the wasted Fields,
And the scorch'd Wood her with'ring Verdure yields.

Arg. ] And yet of late the neighbouring Meads I've known
With bursting Show'rs, and swelling Tides o'erflown;
The rising Floods o'ertop the mounding Shores,
And bear to distant Plains their scaly Stores ;
While oft, from steepy Hills, the Moisture drains,
By sweeping Torrents wash'd, and trick'ling Rains;
O'er the clear Streams, a dark'ning Cloud it spreads,
And drives the Earth Worms from their slimy Beds;
In swarming Shoals resort the finny Brood ,
And glut insatiate on the fatt'ning Food:
Then vainly waves the Angler's lengthen'd Cane ,
And costly Baits allure the Fry in vain.

Mic. ] Nor wants the Angler pre-advis'd to know,
When certain Signs disfavouring Hours foreshow;
Oft-times he views, awarn'd by adverse Skies,
His Fly , or gliding Cork , with hopeless Eyes,
When the dry East-Wind parches up the Plain,
Or the wet South pours down the drenching Rain.

Lal. ] To flattering Skies no certain Credit lend,
Nor on precarious Signs too far depend;
The Sportsman oft a ruddy Morning sees,
The Air unclouded, and without a Breeze,
When sudden Winds with height'ning Gusts arise,
And pitchy Clouds enwrap the dark'ning Skies;
Then drizz'ly Rains descend in ceaseless Show'rs,
And sullen Auster shakes the dripping Bow'rs;
The Anglers homeward o'er the Meads repass,
And journey cheerless thro' the plashy Grass.
And oft when Clouds a threat'ning Storm display,
The Omen issues in a radiant Day.

Arg .] Happy the Fisher when in sportive Hours,
No Droughts prevent him, nor intemperate Show'rs;
When mildest Zephyrs thro' the Æther fly,
Or South-Winds spread their Fleeces o'er the Sky;
While vary'd Sun-shine, and alternate Rains,
Temper the Streams, and verdure all the Plains;
Then Fish rise eager at the floating Bait ,
Or sink the Cork with their entangled Weight:
But warn th' unpractis'd Angler not to ply,
In Shallows then, amid the swarming Fry ,
Lest haply they on the hid Ruin feed,
And of their Tribes prevent the future Breed.

Thus both by Turns the lift'ning Swain amuse:
— Both pause , then each the varying Song renews.

Lal. ] When rotting Weeds the thick'ning Floods distain,
And to the Deeps retire the funny Train ;
Seek, Anglers , then no more th' uncertain Prize ,
Ensuing Rains expect, and wint'ry Skies.

Arg. ] When Mulb'ries first their early Verdure wear,
And wormy Baits the hungry Perch ensnare;
Securely then the peaceful Streams explore,
Ceas'd are the Snows , and Frosts offend no more.

Lal. ] If Anglers , while the Summer Sports persuade,
Ye hope your Toils with kindly Hours repay'd,
With mingling Threads be artful Flies design'd,
If unprovided of the native Kind ,
From sedgy Brooks the husky Cadews bear,
And from the Sord , the bedded Worm prepare,
Or watch where Wasps their infant Brood display,
And from their Hives the stingless Young ( e ) convey:
Nor less may in the blended Choice avail,
To hoard th' autumnal Bee , and dewy Snail ;
For oft' invited by the vary'd Bait
The heedless Fish are lur'd to tempt their Fate:
Whether in Depths retir'd obscure they lie,
Or leap expos'd to snatch the plunging Fly .
Arg. ] Ye Anglers , if in wint'ry Hours ye chuse,
By lonely Floods, the bending Reed to use,
Observe at Autumn when the lab'ring Swain
The yielding Green-sord plows, or sandy Plain ;
If Crows in Troops attend the passing Share ,
Pursue the Track, and eye the Turfs with Care:
A Worm within the parted Clods you'll find,
Of whitish Hue , the Beetle's carly Kind ;
For there the pregnant Tribe their Brood repose,
Which when mature the Parent-Form disclose:
Of these be careful in your Stores to place,
A Food delicious to the wat'ry Race .
Mic. ] Harmonious Pair, ye Pride of Fisher Swains ,
What Thanks are due for such unequall'd Strains!
Not sweeter Sound the whistling Breezes make,
Nor Floods that on the rocky Margin break.
And, lo, the while my Hands have well design'd,
Two Wreaths of Flow'rs, and fragrant Myrtles twin'd;
For either Brow a rural Trophy made,
Both Victors, both with equal Gifts repay'd.
And if you'll teach me, if the Skill impart,
To sing like you, and fish with peerless Art,
Two Rods of smoothest Cane shall wait your Care,
With Lines of twisted Silk, and purest Hair .
But now with me dispend the louring Night,
'Till bloomy Morn renew the cheering Light:
For see, apace the Evening Shadows rise,
And gath'ring Clouds enwrap the sable Skies;
Your homeward Course 'twere vent'rous to pursue,
When warning Signs the hast'ning Show'r foreshew.
Now Flies the Trunks of shadiest Trees ( g ) surround,
And Ants are in their closest Coverts found;
The sportful Fish above the Current spring,
And Swallows brush the Wave with level Wing;
From weedy Pools the croaking Frogs complain,
And flocking Jays await the coming Rain:
Behold afar the melting Show'r distills,
And breaks in Mists around the smoaking Hills.
By cheerful Fires the gloomy Eve we'il waste,
And hoarded Fruits shall yield a sweet Repast.
For you two Beds of River-Reeds I'll strew,
Dry from the Stream, yet green as when they grew;
With Poppies each, and Violet-Flowers , bespread,
And Hazels , soft as Wool, to rest your Head,
While Winds, and dripping Rains, a Concert keep,
And thro' the russling Leaves allure to Sleep.