I soon shall lay before ye.

By some mishap at Hull or Cork,

My tackle was mislaid;

So fate did inclination baulk,

And sport some days delayed.

I just had purchased, all quite new,

Of flies a complete set;[Pg 5]

[Pg 5]

And though I had my rod, 'tis true,

I would not fresh ones get.

I'll wait, thinks I, and roam about,

Though some days it may cost.

I'll find the lucky places out,

So time will not be lost.

By telegraph's electric wire,

Or steam, I'll let them know

The place to which I'd fain desire

These luckless flies should go.

'Twas on a morn as bright as fair

As any time, or anywhere,

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