IZAAK WALTON AND HIS FRIENDS 213 



Untrodden paths are then the best, 

 Where the frequented are unsure ; 



And he comes soonest to his rest 



Whose journey has been most secure. 



It is content, alone, that makes 



Our pilgrimage a pleasure here : 

 And who buys sorrow cheapest, takes 



An ill commodity too dear. 



But he has fortune's worst withstood, 



And happiness can never miss ; 

 Can covet nought but where he stood ; 



And thinks him happy where he is. 



To MY BEAR AND MOST WORTHY FrIEND, Mr IzAAK 



Walton 



Whilst in this cold and blustering Clime, 

 Where bleak winds howl and Tempests roar, 



We pass away the roughest time 

 Has been of many years before ; 



Whilst from the most tempestuous Nooks 

 The chillest Blasts our peace invade, 



And by great Rains our smallest Brooks 

 Are almost navigable made ; 



