Three centuries? That his bait has captured
The grey recluse, the boy switch-armed,
The sage, the statesman, bard enraptured,
Gay girl—are fish her only spoil?—
And grave Thames-haunting son of toil!
Thy votaries, good Saint Izaak, are
"All who love quietnesse, and vertue."
Is there on whom such praises jar?
Well, join for once—it scarce can hurt you—
In Punch's Tribute; fortune wishing