A 



DIALOGUE 



BETWEEN 



Piscator and Corydon. 



IF Man immortal be, whose reason's most Divine, 

 'Tis you mustneeds Excel, by using well your time. 

 No sooner can the Glorious Sun retire 

 From Thetis lap, and with his Beams inspire, 

 New vigour to the long expecting World, 

 When sable ft ight hath all his Clouds close furl'd, 

 But you to view Aurora's blushing Face, 

 In dutious manner o'er the Medows trace, 

 And with your dngling Rod, or Trouling Pole, 

 Search all the streams, and there the Fish Cajole. 



'Tis you that see the Glorys of the Sun, 

 How he begins his course, and seting down, 

 How in the Sea he waters his swift steeds, 

 And cools their fiery mouths in Seagreen beds, 



G Refreshments, 



