198 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. [PART L 



" His bed, more safe than soft, yields quiet sleeps, 

 While by his side his faithful spouse hath place ; 



His little son into his bosom creeps, 

 The lively picture of his father's face. 



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



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



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



Gentlemen, these were a part of the thoughts that then pos- 

 sessed me. And I there made a conversion of a piece of an 

 old catch, and added more to it, fitting them to be sung by us 

 Anglers. Come, Master, you can sing well ; you must sing 

 a part of it as it is in this paper. 



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 excused, 

 Wert thou as truly loved as thou 'rt abused ! 

 But thou 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 : 

 O, suppress that magic sound, 

 Which destroys without a wound ! 



" Peace, Chloris, peace ; or singing die, 

 That together you and I 



To heaven may go : 



For all we know 

 Of what the blessed do above 

 Is, that they sing, and that they love." 



