284 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



Pise. Trust me, scholar, I thank you heartily 

 for these verses ; they be choicely good, and 

 doubtless made by a lover of angling. Come, 

 now, drink a glass to me, and I will requite you 

 with another very good copy ; it is a Farewell to 

 the Vanities of the World, and some say, written 

 by Sir Harry Wotton, who I told you was an ex- 

 cellent angler. But let them be writ by whom 

 they will, he that writ them had a brave soul, and 

 must needs be possessed with happy thoughts at 

 the time of their composure. 



" Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles! 

 Farewell, ye honored rags, ye glorious bubbles ! 

 Fame 's but a hollow echo; gold, pure clay ; 

 Honor, the darling but of one short day ; 

 Beauty, th' eye's idol, but a damasked skin ; 

 State, but a golden prison to live in 

 And torture free-born minds : embroidered trains 

 Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins ; 

 And blood allied to greatness, is alone 

 Inherited, not purchased, nor our own. 



Fame, Honor, Beauty, State, Train, Blood, and 



Birth 

 Are but the fading blossoms of the earth. 



" I would be great, but that the sun doth still 

 Level his rays against the rising hill ; 

 I would be high, but see the proudest oak 

 Most subject to the rending thunder-stroke; 

 I would be rich, but see men too unkind 

 Dig in the bowels of the richest mine ; 

 I would be wise, but that I often see 

 The fox suspected, whilst the ass goes free ; 

 I would be fair, but see the fair and proud 



