The Angler's Wish
I in these flowery meads would be;
These crystal streams would 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 washed off by April showers;
Here hear my Kenna sing a song;
There see a blackbird feed her young,
Or a leverock 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 lawsuits 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.
