Classic Poem

I.

Y E warders of the waters!
Is the alder'd stream-side free?
Hath the salmon sped
From his winter bed
Adown to the azure sea?
Rideth afloat
The fisher's boat
Below the white-thorn tree?

II.

Go forth, ye anglers jovial!
The waters are open wide;
No longer we ward
From vernal sward
The glittering salmon glide;
Free at your will
The crystal rill,
And tuneless torrent-side.

III.

Ho! warders of the waters!
Is the yellow trout at feed?
And the March flies brown
Are they sailing down
Where current and zephyr lead?
See you abroad
With pliant rod
Some gentle brother speed?

IV.

Go forth, ye anglers, jovial!
The ring of the trout we spy,
And the south winds pour
In a pleasant shower
The merry March-brown fly;
With vigorous wand
The fisher band
Among the dark pools ply.