When salmon carried off his bait,
Or whales, maybe, who nought afraid
Cared nothing for his sombre state.
With reverence and thrilling throe
I drew anear with slow approach;—
Yet need I not have quivered so,
For all that river held was roach!
TO A “CANTERBURY BELL”!
Rare lovely Bloom! dear sweet simplicity,
Nodding beneath the Heavens thy delicate lure!