Industrious, were they never?

Some things I've seen would p'rhaps say, "No,

As now they were not ever."

But think not, reader, I intend

To write on why and wherefore;

I know not what these folks will mend,

So cannot tell you therefore.

(Though industry in some to plant

I tried, and put in training;

But soon they cried, "O mend-i-cant!"—

So beggars are remaining.)

Nor is it now my wish to write

On Ireland's beauteous scenery;

Though filled with rapture and delight,

I'll spare you what I've seen; or I

Might fill a dozen pages quite,

Describing lakes and greenery.

No; such is not my present plan,

On angling turns my story:

The pleasures of a fisherman

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