42 The Complete Angler 



Already were the eves possest 

 With tiie swift pilgrim's daubed nest ; 

 The groves already did rejoice, 

 In Philomel's triumphing voice : 



The showers were short, the weather mild, 

 The morning fresh, the evening smil'd. 

 Joan takes her neat-rubb'd pail, and now, 

 She trips to milk the sand-red cow ; 



Where, for some sturdy foot-ball swain, 

 Joan strokes a syllabub or twain. 

 The fields and gardens were beset 

 With tulips, crocus, violet ; 



And now, though late, the modest rose 

 Did more than half a blush disclose. 

 Thus all looks gay, and full of cheer, 

 To welcome the new-livery'd year. 



These were the thoughts that then possessed the 

 undisturbed mind of Sir Henry Wotton. Will you 

 hear the wish of another Angler, and the com- 

 mendation of his happy life, which he also sings in 

 verse : viz. Jo. Davors, Esq. ? 



Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink 

 Of Trent or Avon have a dwelling-place ; 



Where I may see my quill, or cork, down sink 

 With eager bite of Perch, or Bleak, or Dace ; 



And on the world and my Creator think : 



Whilst some men strive ill-gotten goods t* embrace \ 



And others spend their time in base excess 



Of wine, or worse, in war and wantonness. 



Let them that list, these pastimes still pursue, 

 And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill ; 



So I the fields and meadows green may view, 

 And daily by fresh rivers walk at will, 



Among the daisies and the violets blue, 

 Red hyacinth, and yellow daffodil, 



Purple Narcissus like the morning rays, 



Pale gander-grass, and azure culver-keys. 



I count it higher pleasure to behold 



The stately compass of the lofty sky ; 

 And in the midst thereof, like burning gold, 



The flaming chariot of the world's great eye \ 



