vl COMMENDATORY VERSES, 



He that from these such excellencies fetched, 

 That He could tell how high and far they reach'd ; 

 What learning this, what graces th' other had ; 

 And in what several dress each soul was clad. 



Reader, this He, this fisherman, comes forth, 



And in these fisher's weeds would shroud his worth. 



Now his mute harp is on a willow hung, 



With which, when finely touch'd, and fitly strung, 



He could friends' passions for these times allay, 



Or chain bis fellow anglers from their prey. 



But now the music of his pen is still, 



And he sits by a brook watching a quill : 



Where with a fixt eye, and a ready hand, 



He studies first to hook, and then to land 



Some Trout, or Pearch, or Pike ; and having done, 



Sits on a bank, and tells how this was won, 



And that escap'd his hook, which with a wile 



Did eat the bait, and fisherman beguile. 



Thus whilst some TCX they from their lands arc thrown, 



He joys to think the waters are his own ; 



And like the Dutch, he gladly can agree 

 To live at peace now, and have fishing free. 



Aprils, 1650. EDV. POWEL, M r . of Arts. 



TO 



MY DEAR BROTHER, MR. IZ. WALTON, 



ON HIS 



COMPLETE ANGLER. 



THIS book is so like yon, and yon like it, 

 For harmless mirth, expression, art, and wit, 

 That I protest, ingenuously His true, 

 I love this mirth, art, wit, the book, and you. 



ROB. FLOUD, C. 



