Lincolnshire Fens

The toiling fisher here is towing of his net,
The fowler is employed his limed twigs to set.
One underneath his horse to get a shoot doth stalk;
Another over dykes upon his stilts doth walk:
There other with their spades the peats are squaring out,
And others from their cars are busily about,
To draw out sedge and reed, for thatch and stover fit,
That whosoever would a landskip rightly hit,
Beholding but my fens, shall with more shapes be stored
Than Germany or France or Thuscan can afford;
And for that part of me which men High Holland call,
Where Boston seated is, by plenteous Wytham's fall,
I peremptory am, large Neptune's liquid field
Doth to no other tract the like abundance yield.