So then it shall be needless to declare
What sundry kinds there lie in secret store;
And where they do resort and what they are,
That may be still discovered more and more.
Let him that list, no pain or travail spare
To seek them out, as I have done before;
And then it shall not discontent his mind,
New choice of place, and change of game to find.
The best Hours of the Day to Angle.
<poem> From first appearing of the rising sun Till nine of clock, low under water best, The fish will bite; and then from nine to noon, From noon to four they do refrain and rest: From four again till PHOEBUS swift hath run His daily course, and setteth in the West.
But at the fly aloft they use to bite, All summer long, from nine till it be night.
Now lest the Angler leave his tools behind, For lack of heed or haste of his desire; And so enforced with unwilling mind Must leave his game and back again retire, Such things to fetch as there he cannot find, To serve his turn when need shall most require:
Here shall he have to help his memory, A lesson short of every want's supply.
Light rod to strike, long line to reach withal, Strong hook to hold the fish he haps to hit, Spare lines and hooks whatever chance do fall, Baits quick and dead to bring them to the bit,
- <poem>
