Has pierc'd the streams, and rous'd the finny race Then, issuing cheerful, to thy sport repair; Chief should the western breezes curling play, And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds, High to their fount, this day, amid the hills, And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks, The next, pursue their rocky-channel'd maze, Down to the river, in whose ample wave Their little naiads love to sport at large. Just in the dubious point where with the pool, Is mix'd the trembling stream, or where it boils Around the stone, or from the hollow'd bank 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 game. Straight as above the surface of the flood They wanton rise, or urg'd by hunger leap, Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook; Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank, And to the shelving shore slow-dragging some, With various hand proportion'd to their force. If yet too young, and easily deceived, A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod, Him, piteous of his youth, and the short space He has enjoy'd the vital light of heaven, Soft disengage, and back into the stream The speckled infant throw. But should you lure From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots Of pendent trees, the monarch of the brook, Behooves you then to ply your finest art. Long time he, followed cautious, scans the fly, And oft attempts to seize it, but as oft The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear. At last, while haply o'er the shaded sun Passes a cloud, he desperate takes the death, With sullen plunge. At once he darts along, Deep-struck, and runs out all the lengthen'd line Then seeks the farthest ooze, the sheltering weed, The cavern'd bank, his old secure abode; And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool, Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand, That feels him still, yet to his furious course Gives way, you, now retiring, following now Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage; Till floating broad upon his breathless side, And to his fate abandon'd, to the shore You gayly drag your unresisting prize. [Illustration: Throw nice judging the delusive fly] [Illustration: You gayly drag your unresisting prize]