178 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART i. 



May pure contents 



For ever pitch their tents 



Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these mountains, 

 And peace still slumber by these purling fountains; 



Which we may every year 



Meet, when we come a-fishing here ! " 



PiSC. 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 with 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 excellent angler. But let them be writ by 

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

 needs be possest with happy thoughts at the time of their 

 composure. 



" Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles ! 

 Fa^eyvP 11 ; ye honour'd rags, ye glprioqs bubbles ! 

 Fame's but a hollow echo gold, pure clay 

 fionour, the darling but of one short day 

 Beauty, th' eye's idol, but a damask'd skin 

 State, but a golden prison, to live in, 

 An\I torture free-torn mlhdU Ulllbioider'd trains, 

 Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins 

 And blood allied to greatness is alone 

 Inherited, not purchased, nor our own. 



Fame, honotuv-beauly. state. train 7 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 watTH-fae-rich, but ree trmn (too unkind) 

 &e-kQXLe\s of the richssUaind 



. v 



ke ' ' ,j^ 

 ) v j^T 



I would-be wise, but that T nffprv-see N^ 



The fox susj^prteflj \vhikf Lhp ass .goes jjee 



I would be fair, but liee the fair and proud, 

 Like the bright sun, oft setting in a cloud 



