Angling Sports In Nine Piscatory Eclogues. A New Attempt To introduce a more pleasing Variety and Mixture of Subjects and Characters into Pastoral. On the Plan of its primitive Rules and Manners. Suited to the Entertainment of Retirement, and the Lovers of Nature in rural Scenes. With an Essay in Defence of this Undertaking. By Moses Browne. The Third Edition, Corrected, and very much improved |
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| I. | ECLOGUE I. ANGLING SEASONS: |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
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ECLOGUE I. ANGLING SEASONS:
OR, THE WEATHER.
THE ARGUMENT.
Lalet and Argel, two young Anglers, relate to the Herdsman Mico, who is observing their Diversion, the Inconveniencies from long Droughts and land Floods, the Signs and Changes of Weather, Seasons best for this Recreation, and the Methods of Summer and Winter Angling. The Swain makes each a suitable Present, and invites them, on an Appearance of Rain, to take a friendly Entertainment and homely Lodging, at his Cottage.
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Tho'
Maro, in renown'd Augustan days,
To Rome's first Patriots tun'd the rural lays;
Aw'd must the Muse attempt her feeble strain,
To nobler Patriots in a greater reign.
To Rome's first Patriots tun'd the rural lays;
Aw'd must the Muse attempt her feeble strain,
To nobler Patriots in a greater reign.
Thou, Dodington, 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,
Blest with no gifts—in Nature's plainest guise
Her forms to picture, simply, as they rise;
Wilt thou, best Poet, best of Patrons, heed
This homely tribute of my rustic reed.
Yet, if the Muse this humbler labour grace,
That sings of rivers and the watry race,
Tho' unattempted themes the strains pursue,
Untry'd the subject, and the manners new,
Beneath thy influence, shall our isle no more
The envied arts of Greece and Rome adore;
O'er ev'ry clime her Genius shall prevail,
And classic Bards unborn their own Apollo hail.
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,
Blest with no gifts—in Nature's plainest guise
Her forms to picture, simply, as they rise;
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This homely tribute of my rustic reed.
Yet, if the Muse this humbler labour grace,
That sings of rivers and the watry race,
Tho' unattempted themes the strains pursue,
Untry'd the subject, and the manners new,
Beneath thy influence, shall our isle no more
The envied arts 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-lads did e'er their skill exceed,
Or knew more sweet to blow the tuneful reed:
The herdsman Mico, from a hilly ground,
Close at their sports 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,
Close at its side the winding river ran:
The swains he smiling join'd, and thus began.
MICO.Two social youths the heedful angle ply'd;
No fisher-lads did e'er their skill exceed,
Or knew more sweet to blow the tuneful reed:
The herdsman Mico, from a hilly ground,
Close at their sports 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:
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And thro' the trees the dusky thatch appear'd,
Close at its side the winding river ran:
The swains he smiling join'd, and thus began.
What sport, ye pair of fisher-friends, relate;
Or feed the shoals—or pass, th' unrelish'd bait?
LALET.
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 deeps in vain;
No kindly rains the scanty pools supply,
And running brooks have ebb'd their channels dry;
On muddy banks their fishy trains they leave,
And with the heat their parchy bottoms cleave;
A russet dye embrowns the wasted fields,
And the scorch'd grove its wither'd verdure yields.
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And yet, oft' times, the neighbouring meads I've known
With bursting show'rs, and welt'ring tides o'erflown,
The rising floods o'ertop the mounding shores,
And leave on distant plains their scaly stores,
While from steep hills the oozy moisture drains,
By sweepy torrents wash'd, or driz'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 droves in vain.
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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.
LALET.
To flatt'ring 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,
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And pitchy clouds veil thick the dark'ning skies;
Then mizzly rains descend in ceaseless show'rs,
And sullen Auster shakes the dripping bow'rs;
The Anglers homeward o'er the meads repass,
And journey, sad, a-through the plashy grass—
And oft when clouds a threat'ning storm display,
The omen issues in a radiant day.
ARGEL.
Happy the Fisher, when in sportive hours,
No droughts prevent him, nor intemp'rate 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:
No droughts prevent him, nor intemp'rate 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,
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And of their tribes prevent the future breed:
Thus both by turns the list'ning swain amuse,
Both pause, then each the varying song renews.
Both pause, then each the varying song renews.
LALET.
When rotting weeds the thick'ning floods distain,
And to the deeps retire the finny train;
Seek, Angler, then no more th' uncertain prize,
Ensuing frosts expect, and wintry skies.
ARGEL.
When mulb'ries first their budding verdures wear,
And wormy baits the hungry Perch ensnare,
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Ceas'd are the snows, and frosts offend no more.
LALET.
If, Anglers, while the summer's sports persuade,
Ye hope your toil 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;
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And from their hives the stingless young 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.
ARGEL.
Ye Anglers, if in wintry hours ye chuse
By lonely floods the bending reed to use,
Observe at Autumn, when the lab'ring swain
The yielding green-sward plows or sandy plain,
If crows in troops attend the passing share,
Pursue the track, and eye the turfs with care;
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Of whitish hue, the beetle's early kind;
For there the pregnant tribe their brood repose,
Which when mature their parent-form disclose:
Of these be careful in your stores to place,
A food delicious to the wat'ry race.
MICO.
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.
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Two wreaths, of flow'rs and fragrant myrtle twin'd,
For either brow a rural trophy made;
Both victors, both with equal gifts repaid.
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 ev'ning 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 surround,
And ants are in their closest coverts found,
The sportful fish above the current spring,
And swallows brush the wave with level wing;
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And flocking jays await the coming rain;
And see! afar the melting show'r distills,
And breaks in mists around the smoaking hills;
By chearful fires the gloomy eve we'll 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-flow'rs be spread,
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.
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