354 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



VEN. Well, master, I thank you for all your good direc- 

 tions, but for none more than this last, of thankfulness, 

 which I hope I shall never forget. And pray let 's now rest 

 ourselves in this sweet shady arbour, which nature herself 

 has woven with her own fine finger ; 't is such a contexture 

 of woodbines, sweetbriar, jessamine, and myrtle, and so 

 interwoven, as will secure us both from the sun's violent 

 heat and from the approaching shower. And being sat down, 

 I will requite a part of your courtesies with a bottle of sack, 

 milk, oranges, and sugar, which, all put together, make a 

 drink like nectar ; indeed, too good for any but us anglers. 

 And so, master, here is a full glass to you of that liquor ; 

 and when you have pledged me, I will repeat the verses 

 which I promised you : it is a copy printed among some of 

 Sir Henry Wotton's, and doubtless made either by him or 

 by a lover of angling. Come, master, now drink a glass to 

 me, and then I will pledge you, and fall to my repetition : 

 it is a description of such country recreations as I have en- 

 joyed since I had the happiness to fall into your company. 



Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares, 

 Anxious sighs, untimely tears, 



Fly, fly to Courts, 



Fly to fond worldlings' sports, 

 Where strain'd Sardonic smiles are glosing still, 

 And grief is forced to laugh against her will ; 



Where mirth 's but mummery, 



And sorrows only real be. 



Fly from our country pastimes, fly, 

 Sad troops of human misery ; 



Come, serene looks, 



Clear as the crystal brooks, 



