Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.

III. The Seasons

The Angler

John Chalkhill (fl. 1600?)

O THE GALLANT fisher’s life,

It is the best of any!

’T is full of pleasure, void of strife,

And ’t is beloved by many;

Other joys

Are but toys;

Only this

Lawful is;

For our skill

Breeds no ill,

But content and pleasure.

When we please to walk abroad

For our recreation,

In the fields is our abode,

Full of delectation,

Where, in a brook,

With a hook,—

Or a lake,—

Fish we take;

There we sit,

For a bit,

Till we fish entangle.

We have gentles in a horn,

We have paste and worms too;

We can watch both night and morn,

Suffer rain and storms too;

None do here

Use to swear:

Oaths do fray

Fish away;

We sit still,

Watch our quill:

Fishers must not wrangle.

If the sun’s excessive heat

Make our bodies swelter,

To an osier hedge we get,

For a friendly shelter;

Where, in a dike,

Perch or pike,

Roach or dace,

We do chase.

Bleak or gudgeon,

Without grudging;

We are still contented.

Or we sometimes pass an hour

Under a green willow,

That defends us from a shower,

Making earth our pillow;

Where we may

Think and pray,

Before death

Stops our breath;

Other joys

Are but toys,

And to be lamented.