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The flower the sun enjoys, and th' ambient

air,

75 Its painted leaf unfolds, and blooms afar;

So we, with Son and Holy Spirit blest,

Our heads lift up, and on Their influence rest.

Go forth! enjoy all Nature dressed in sheen,

The Author worship of the glorious scene.

80

Re-echo now the birds their mutual lay,

Invoking with their mirth the tuneful day;

And night resounds with sweeter echoes far

When Philomel resumes her matchless air :

In solemn shade he tunes his varied note,

85 Night yields, enchanted by his magic throat.

Inspired, we wander in our midnight walk,

So charmed the ear, to eye it is not dark.

From feathered tribe shall we no lessons learn,

From those whose early song awakes the morn,

90 Who matins sing to greet the rising sun,

Yea, e'en before he rise, the song begun?

The day too short to measure their sweet voice,

All night their praise to offer they rejoice.

Shall mortal man commence his daily toil,

95 His earthly pleasures and his duty spoil,

Neglect his morning praise, his daily prayer,

In pride presume the darkened night to dare;

Before on bended knee he mercy craves,

And mingles prayer and praise to Him who

saves

100 Our body, soul, who with His outstretched arm

Defends us mortals, and protects from harm?

If Spring, advancing, cheers our earthborn frames,

Alone our spirits and our heart inflames

With worldly mirth, alas ! we find too soon

105 A curse our every joy,-a curse the boon,

A curse, unless in us the heavenly seed

Once sown by grace springs up to life indeed.

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115 The enjoyment equal of them both; they twain

Combined the patient angler now enjoys

He fishes, contemplates, away from noise ;

Thus contemplation, action, fill the hour

Of happy pastime, and their bliss secure.

120 Inspired old Walton, in poetic lay,

Describes the virtue of a fishing day :

A southern breeze to curl the lucid stream,

A sun which shines without too bright a beam.

Fish you with fly, your rod must tapering be;

125 Your line, as well from knot and kinkling free,

With steady curve must veer its round in air,

So not to lose your fly, nor snap the tender

hair;

With graceful motion guide the flowing line,

Nor up nor down, across the stream incline :

130 When hooked, your victim play with careful

hand,

With clumsy careless pull, no fish you'll land:

On mercy bent, your captured fish straight kill,

And spare them pain ere they your pannier

fill.

Fish, flesh, and fowl alike to us are sent

135 For food and use, not cruel torment, meant.

B

Alike the same applies to harmless worms:

The generous heart with indignation burns

To watch the tortures of the wretched bait,

And thoughtless anglers, callous to their fate.

140 Would fishermen in full their art enjoy,

Let them with mercy all their skill employ.

Why fish with bait alive? When dead, they'll

prove

An equal tempting bait. Then would you love

To pass your fishing day with conscience free,

145 Stain not your sport with acts of cruelty.

Behold, with patient form the angler stands

Beside the river stream, whose view commands

The sight of barren rock, of fertile plain,

And distance bounded by the mountain chain.

150 Adown the vale is heard the murmuring rill;

Swept with the singing breeze, their voices fill

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