In Memoriam, Izaak Walton, Obiit. 15th December, 1683 Twelve Sonnets and an Epilogue, By T. Westwood |
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In Memoriam, Izaak Walton, Obiit. 15th December, 1683 | ||
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[We have his books—we have this relic rare—]
We have his books—we have this relic rare—Where hides his Angle-rod? .. My fancy wings
Its way to limbos of forgotten things,
And gropes, craves, questions, vainly, for it there.
Our Izaak's Angle-rod—a priceless prize!
At his death-hour, be sure he must have turned,
To where it stood, a lingering look that yearned,
With the last effort of his glazing eyes.
Our Izaak's Angle-rod! A pearl, a crown
Of preciousness, meet for some noble hoard,
Enriched with painter's pencil, hero's sword,
Relics of Love and Worship and Renown,—
Vanished from earth—O Angle-rod, wert given
In Izaak's hand to hold by streams of Heaven?
In Memoriam, Izaak Walton, Obiit. 15th December, 1683 | ||