=Western Daily Mercury=:—"He is a more skilled handler of the pen than the rod, and his letters will be read with a great deal of pleasure, whether by anglers or by lovers of the picturesque in nature." LONDON: SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON, CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET, E C. ON READING "DAYS IN DOVEDALE BY AN AMATEUR ANGLER." I. Cheery, chatty, breezy booklet, Breathing scents of wilding flowers, Cool and clear as mountain brooklet, Yet diffusing warmth of sunshine Thro' these wintry hours; II. Whence the power thy artless pages Have to soothe my weary brain, Killing cares that Wisdom's sages, Plying philosophic maxims, Reason with in vain? III. Hence:—because, like him thou ownest With such modest grace, thy king,[7] To the heart that's saddest, lonest, Needing healing, thou dost simply Nature's simples bring. IV. Nature's simples, God's specific, Pure and sweet as Cana's wine, Flowing from His hand benefic, Fresh, by art left uncorrupted, Living blood of vine!— V. Making glad man's heart and lifting From it all its weight of care, Till its sorrows seem like drifting Clouds that fly before the rising Of a mountain air. VI. Thanks for such a breeze, O writer, Blown from thy pure page to-night! Night without its darkness, brighter Far than common days, for with thee I have walked in light; VII. Shared thy hope whilst thou hast angled, Nor could help a laugh, to see All thy woes with line entangled, All thy flyless whippings, and thy Flight from angry bee! VIII. Felt a sympathetic sadness With thy disappointments: seen With delight that sight of gladness— Age and infancy together Romping on the green! IX. O, with Lorna and with Alice, Far from stir and strife of men, Rod in hand, refill thy chalice In the dales of Dove, and often Prythee write again!