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Reverted plays in undulating flow,

There throw, nice judging, the delusive fly; And as you lead it round in artful curve, With attentive mark the springing game.

eye

Strait as above the surface of the flood

lure

They wanton rise, or urg'd by hunger, leap,
Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook:
Some lightly tossing to the
grassy bank,
And to the shelving shore slow-dragging some,
With various hand proportion'd to their force.
If yet too young, and easily deceiv'd,
A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod,
Him, piteous of his youth and the short space
He has enjoy'd the vital light of Heaven,
Soft disengage, and back into the stream
The speckled captive throw. But should you
From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots
Of pendant trees, the monarch of the brook,
Behoves you then to ply your finest art.
Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly;
And oft attempts to seize it, but as oft
The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear.
At last, while haply o'er the shaded sun
Passes a cloud, he desperate takes the death,
With sullen plunge. At once he darts along,
Deep-struck, and runs out all the lengthen'd line;
Then seeks the farthest ooze, the sheltering weed,

Ou bien, en tournoyant, se brise sur la pierre.
Là, jette l'hameçon; immobile, attentif,
Tu vois ton ennemi, d'abord, tremblant, craintif,
S'approcher, s'éloigner, puis d'une bouche avide
Saisir furtivement ton amorce perfide.

Il est pris; sois prudent, crains qu'il n'échappe encore;
Sur sa force, avec art, mesure ton effort;
Faible, il faut brusquement le jeter sur l'herbage,
Et plus fort, lentement l'amener au rivage.

Si, par l'appât fatal trompé trop aisément,
Faible et novice encor, quelque jeune imprudent
Vient se prendre, pardonne à son étourderie;
Il a si peu joui du bienfait de la vie !

Son cœur peut-être encor n'a point connu l'amour!
Rend le petit captif à son premier séjour.
Plus heureux, si tu fais de ses grottes profondes
Sortir ce vieux brochet, patriarche des ondes,
Monarque des ruisseaux : plus attentif encor,
Suis tous ses mouvemens; tu le verras d'abord
Epier à l'écart ton amorce flottante;

Tout-à coup, l'œil avide et la bouche béante,
Il semble la saisir, mais l'onde en frissonnant
Atteste la frayeur du vieillard méfiant.

Si le soleil alors, voilé par un nuage,

Sur l'appât mieux caché jette un subit ombrage,
Furieux, il saisit et sa proie et la mort.

The cavern'd bank, his old secure abode :
And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool,
Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand,
That feels him still, yet to his furious course
Gives way, you, now retiring, following now
Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage,
Till floating broad upon his breathless side,
And to his fate abandon'd, to the shore
You gaily drag your unresisting prize.

AN HOMMAGE.
GE.

BEHOLD yon breathing prospect bids the muse Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paint Like nature? Can imagination boast,

Amid the gay creation, hues like her's?

Or can it mix them with that matchless skill,
And lose them in each other, as appears
In every bud that blows? If fancy then
Unequal fails beneath the pleasing task,
Ah! what shall language do? ah! where find words
Ting'd with so many colours; and whose power,
To life approaching, may perfume my lays
With that fine oil, those aromatic gales,

Blessé profondément, il fuit; et, fier encor,
Courageux, indigné de ce lâche artifice,
Dans la vase bourbeuse, au fond du précipice,
Sous les roseaux chéris qui forment son palais,
Où si long-temps ses jours s'écoulèrent en paix,
Il plonge. Vain espoir! à sa rage impuissante
Abandonne d'abord ta ligne triomphante.
En efforts douloureux à la fin consumé,
Sur les ondes tu vois son corps inanimé
Triste jouet des flots, et bientôt avec joie,
Sur le bord du ruisseau tu retires ta proie.

HOMMAGE.

Vois le vivant aspect de ce sîte enchanté; Impérieux, il veut, par ma muse chanté, Reparaître en mes vers dans toute sa parure. Mais qui peindra jamais comme peint la nature ? Ce qu'elle fait, comment même l'imaginer? Tant de contours heureux comment les dessiner? Où trouver des couleurs si vives et si belles? Comment les nuancer, les marier entre elles? Ah! le moindre bouton qu'elle jette au hazard, Désespère le peintre et se rit de son art! D'idéales beautés brillante créatrice, L'imagination, dans son plus doux caprice,

En est bien loin encore. Et moi je trouverais

That inexhaustive flow continual round?

Yet, tho' successless, will the toil delight.
Come, then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose hearts
Have felt the raptures of refining love;
And thou, Amanda, come, pride of my song!
Form'd by the Graces, loveliness itself!
Come with those downcast eyes,
sedate and sweet,

Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul;
Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd,
Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart:
Oh come! and while the rosy-footed May
Steals blushing on, together let us tread

The morning-dews, and gather in their prime
Fresh-blooming flowers, to grace thy braided hair,
And thy lov'd bosom that improves their sweets.

THE LOVES OF THE BIRDS.

WHEN first the soul of love is sent abroad, Warm thro' the vital air, and on the heart Harmonious seizes, the gay troops begin,

In gallant thought, to plume the painted wing; And try again the long-forgotten strain,

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