So I can fish and study too.
I care not, I, to fish in seas—
Fresh rivers best my mind do please,
Whose sweet calm course I contemplate,
And seek in life to imitate:
In civil bounds I fain would keep,
And for my past offences weep.
And when the timorous trout I wait
To take, and he devours my bait.
How poor a thing, sometimes I find,