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 The Angler's Reveille 151 There's wild azalea on the hill, and roses down the dell, And just a spray of lilac still abloom beside the well ; The columbine adorns the rocks, the laurel buds grow pink, Along the stream white arums gleam, and violets bend to drink This is the song of the Yellowthroat, Fluttering gaily beside you ; Hear how each voluble note Offers to guide you : JVhic/i way, sir ? I say, si)', Let me teach you, I beseech you .' Are you ivishing Jolly fishing ? This 7vay, sir ! Let i/ie teach you. Oh come, forget your foes anl fears, and leave your cares behind, And wander forth to try your luck, with cheerful, quiet mind ; For be your fortune great or small, you'll take what God may give, And all the day your heart will say, "'Tis luck enough to live." This is the song the Brown Thrush flings Out of his thicket of roses ; Hark how it warbles and rings, Mark how it closes : Luck, luck. What luck ? Good enough for me I I'm alive, you see. Sun shining, no repining ; Never borrow idle sorrow ; Drop it .' Cover it up ! Hold your cup ! Joy 7uill fill it, Don't spill it ! Steadw be readv, Love vour luck .'