214 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. [part i. 



His little son, into his bosom creeps, 



The lively picture of Ids father s face . 

 His humble house or poor state ne'er torment him ; 

 Less he could like, if less his God had letit him ; 

 And when he dies, green turfs do for a tomb content him. 



Gentlemen, these were a part of the thoughts 

 that then possessed me. And I there made a conver- 

 sion of a piece of an old catch, and added more 

 to it, fitting 1 them to be sung by us Anglers. Come, 



,,, , , Master, vou can sins? well; you must 

 7/ ords and ' - => J 



Music in sing a part of it as it is in this pa- 



tln> Notes. 



per. 



Pet. I marry, Sir, this is music indeed ! This has 



cheered my heart, and made me to remember six 



verses in Praise of Music, which I will speak to you 



instantly. 



Music ! miraculous rhetoric ! that speak' st sense 



Without a tongue, excelling eloquence ; 



With what ease might thy errors be excus'd, 



Wert thou as truly lov'd as thou'rt abus'd ! 



But though dull souls neglect, and some reprove thee, 



I cannot hate thee, 'cause the Angels love thee. 



Ven. And the repetition of these last verses of 

 Music, have called to my memory what Mr. Edmund 

 Waller, a Lover of the Angle, says of Love and Music. 



Whilst I listen to thy voice, 



Chloris, I feel my heart decay ; 

 That powerful voice 



Calls my fleeting soul away : 



