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They vse also to take Sammons and Trowts, by groping, tickling them
vnder the bellies, in the Pooles where they houer, vntill they lay
hold on them with their hands, & so throw them on land. Touching
these, one scribling of the ryuer Lyner, rymed as ensueth:

THE store-house of Sunnes cheuisance,
The clocke whose measures time doth dance,
The Moones vassall, the Lord of chance,
Oceanus
Ere yeeres compasse his circle end,
From hugie bosome, where they wend,
His scaly broode to greete doth send,
His wife Tellus.
Some haile but with the coasting shore,
Some multiplie the Harbours store,
Some farre into the ryuers bore,
Amongst the rest.
A threefold rowt, of Argus hew,
Kind to encrease, foes to eschew,
With Lyners supple mantle blew,
Themselves reuest.
What time, enricht by Phoebus rayes,
The Alder his new wealth displayes (*)
Of budded groates, and welcome payes
Vnto the Spring.


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