CHAP. XVT. THE COMPLETE ANGLES. 83 



divine, and an excellent angler ; and the author of 

 excellent Piscatory Eclogues, in which you shall see 

 the picture of this good man's mind : And I wish mine 

 to be like it. 



No empty hopes, no courtly fears him fright ; 



No begging wants his middle fortune bite : 



But sweet content exiles, both, misery and spite. 



Purple Island, printed, at Cambridge, with other of his poems, in 

 4/o. 1633; from whence the passage in the text, with a little variation 

 is taken. The reader will not be displeased with a more entire quo- 

 tation from that work; which for its elegant pastoral simplicity, I 

 could wish to see equalled. 



Let others trust the seas, dare death and hell, 



Search either Inde, vaunt of their scars and wounds : 



Let others their dear breath nay, silence sell 



To fools ; and swoln, not rich stretch out their bounds, ~ 



By spoiling those that live, and, wronging dead ; 



That they may drink in pearl, and couch their head 



In soft, but sleepless down; in rich, but restless bed. 



Oh ! let them, in their gold, quaff dropsies down ; 



Oh ! let them surfeits feast, in silver bright ; 

 While sugar hires the taste, the brain to drown, 



And bribes of sauce corrupt false Appetite, 

 His master's rest, health, heart, life, soul to sell. 

 Thus, plenty fulness sickness ring their knell t 

 Death weds, and beds them; first, in grave; and, then, in helL 



But, ah ! let me, under some Kentish hill, 



Near rolling Medway, 'mong my shepherd peerSj 



With fearless merry-make and piping, still 

 Securely pass my few and slow-pac'd years : 



While yet the great Augustus * of our nation [* K. garnet I- 



Shuts up old Janus in this long cessation, 



Strengthening our pleasing ease, and gives us sure vacation. 



There may I, master of a little flock, 



Feed my poor lambs, and often change their fare. 



My lovely mate shall tend my sparing stock?; 

 And nurse my little- ones, with pleasing care, 



Whose love and look shall speak their father plain. 



Health be my feast; heav'n, hope; content, my gain* 



So in my little house, my lesser heart shall reign. 



The beech shall yield a cool, safe canopy, 



While down I sit, and chaunt to th' echoing wood. 



Ah! singing, might I live: and, singing, die ; 

 So, by fair Thames, or eilver Medway's flood 



