Classic Poem

I. P. —

O Fisher , who dost ever love to stand
By waters streaming! F. —
O Poet, who dost lie, at Love's command,
In azure dreaming! P. —
What is it bids us face, 'midst rain and wind,
The wild Spring weather? F. —
What strange and unknown the doth help to bind
Such souls together?

II. F. —

What know'st thou, Poet, of the tedious time
The fisher loseth? P. —
What know'st thou, Fisher, of the precious rhyme
The bard abuseth? F. —
I only know that Health and Pleasure thrive
In any season. P. —
Enough: we 'll let our April friendship live
Without a reason.