xlv 



TO MY WORTHY AND HONOURED FRIEND, 



CAPTAIN R. F. 



ON HIS 



Contemplatftoe 



SIR, you have taught the angler that good fashion 

 Not to catch fish with oaths, but contemplation. 

 No man that's wise, but out of good intention 

 Will hug your plot, and well-contriv'd invention. 

 To take the fowl, and fowler let alone ; 

 That's not the killing two birds with one stone. 

 But he that catches fish, and fisher too, 

 Has done as much as man or art can do. 

 Honour's the bait for one ; but silly flies 

 Are mortal engines for the scaly fries. 

 And he that thinks to scape the present danger, 

 Fastens himself, thinking to noose the stranger. 

 For one or other's still catch'd in the net, 

 When politicians have the pool beset. 

 And haling to and fro, to fill their dish, 

 Lites on a chub perchance, or some such fish, 

 That dies without redemption, unless he 

 Amphibion-like, can live by land, or sea : 

 But in the calms of silver silent Trent, 

 There's no such danger in the turnament. 

 For you may fish till sun-set, nay all night, 

 Find but your gamesters a fresh appetite ; 

 And that a bait will do, when you would court 

 Your game ashore, that dies to see the sport. 



MERCURIUS HEKMON. 



