. Spring . , whitening, down their mossy-tincturedstream yj <Thc Seajams, Descends the billowy foam; now is the yet the dark-brown water aids the guile,To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly,The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring,Snatched from the hoary steed the floating all thy slender watery stores, let not on thy hook the tortured , twist in agonising folds:Which, by rapacious hunger swallowed as you tear it from the bleeding breastOf the weak, helpless, uncomplaining pain and horror to the tender ,
. Spring . , whitening, down their mossy-tincturedstream yj <Thc Seajams, Descends the billowy foam; now is the yet the dark-brown water aids the guile,To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly,The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring,Snatched from the hoary steed the floating all thy slender watery stores, let not on thy hook the tortured , twist in agonising folds:Which, by rapacious hunger swallowed as you tear it from the bleeding breastOf the weak, helpless, uncomplaining pain and horror to the tender , with his lively ray. the potent sunHas pierced the streams, and roused the finny , issuing cheerful, to thy sport repair;Chief should the western breezes curling light oer ether hear the shadowy to their fount, this day. amid the hills,And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks :The next, pursue their rocky-channelled maze,Down to the river, in whose ample wave38 Their little Naiads love to sport at in the dubious point, where with the poolIs mixed the trembling stream, or where itboils Around the stone, or from the hollowd bank,39 Wfyz Reasons, Reverted plays in undulating flow,There throw, nice-judging, the delusive fly;And, as you lead it round in artful curve,With eye attentive mark the springing as above the surface of the floodThey wanton rise, or urged by hunger leap,Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook :Some lightly tossing to the grassy to the shelving shore slow dragging some,With various hand proportioned to their yet too young, and easily deceived,A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant , piteous of his youth, and the short spaceHe has enjoyed the vital light of Heaven,Soft disengage, and back into the streamThe speckled infant throw. But should you lureFrom his dark haunt, beneath the tangled rootsOf pendent trees, the monarch of the brook,Behoves you then to
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectspring, bookyear1892
