A MOAN IN MAYTIME.
By a Weary Waltonian.
Oh, Maytime is a gay time for the artist and the dangler,
The pretty girl, the parson, and the scout;
And it ought to be a time of rosy rapture for the angler,
In the capture of the delicate May trout.
But though Smudge, R.A., "feels fine" with his six upon the line,
And the dangler "does" the galleries with delight;
Though white-chokered clerics muster amidst eloquential fluster,
And our girls salute the Season sweet and bright;
Though the "Cattylog" vendors shout, and cab-runners scout and tout,
The disciple of Old Izaak is not gay,
For although the "Grawnom" 's off, and the trout at "Alders" scoff,
The May Fly—drat it, does not rise in May!