So today in addition to earworms of Proverb s and Hymn's in my head, in the WSJ (yesterday's) I read a review of a book called "The Compleat Angler", a sort of 17th century combination of poetry and fishing guide.
THE ANGLICAN ANGLER
The angular Anglican angles the angle
A place where 3 streams come to meet in a cross
Expertly drawing his line with no tangle
He whips and he whizzes and casts his fine floss
I ask cross the ford if, "Might I have a word?"
"Friend sure," what he said, and then pinched his fine halyard
"What need have you fisherman, for your basket has bread
What hunger now haunts you, is your spirit unfed?"
"I don't fish for me," was his modest compline
"Those like you, who've not heard, I must call with a line."
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