148 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



PlSC. 'T is a match, my masters : let 's e'en say grace, and 

 turn to the fire, drink the other cup to wet our whistles, and 

 so sing away all sad thoughts. 



Come on, my masters, who begins ? I think it is best to 

 draw cuts, and avoid contention. 



PETER. It is a match. Look, the shortest cut falls to 

 Coridon. 



COR. Well, then, I will begin, for I hate contention. 



CORIDON'S SONG. 



Oh, the sweet contentment 

 The countryman doth find ! 



Heigh trolollie lollie loe, 



Heigh trolollie lollie lee. 

 That quiet contemplation 

 Possesseth all my mind ; 



Then care away, 



And wend along with me. 



For Courts are full of flattery, 

 As hath too oft been tried ; 



Heigh trolollie lollie loe, &c. 

 The city full of wantonness, 

 And both are full of pride : 



Then care away, &c. 



But oh ! the honest countryman 

 Speaks truly from his heart ; 



Heigh trolollie lollie loe, &c. 

 His pride is in his tillage, 

 His horses and his cart : 



Then care away, c. 



Our clothing is good sheep-skins, 

 Grey russet for our wives ; 



Heigh trolollie lollie loe, &c. 



