CHAP. IV. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 69 



Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, 

 Thy cap, thy kirtle, and tky posies, 

 Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten ; 

 In folly ripe, in reason rotten. 



Thy belt of straw, and ivy buds, 

 Thy coral clasps and amber studs, 

 All these in mo no means can move 

 To come to thee, and be thy love. 



What should we talk of dainties, then, 

 Of better meat than's fit for men ? 

 These are but vain : that's only good 

 Which God hath blest, and sent for food. 



But could youth last, and love still breed ; 

 Had joys no date, nor age no need ; 

 Then those delights my mind might move, 

 To live with thee, and be thy love. 



Mother. Well ! I have done my song. But stay, honest 

 anglers ; for I will make Maudlin to sing you one short 

 song more. Maudlin ! sing that song that you sung last 

 night, when young Coridon the shepherd played so purely 

 on his oaten pipe to you and your cousin Betty. 



Maud. I will, mother. 



I married a wife of late, 

 The more's my unhappy fate : 

 I married her for love, 

 As ray fancy did me move. 

 And not for a worldly estate ' 



Bat oh ! the green sickness 

 Soon changed her likeness ; 

 And all her beauty did fail. 

 But 'tis not so 

 With those that go 

 Thro* frost and snow, 

 As all men know. 

 And carry the milking-pail. 



Pise. Well sung, good woman ; I thank you. I'll give 

 you another dish of fish one of these days ; and then beg 

 another song of you. Come, scholar! let Maudlin alone: 

 do not you offer to spoil her voice. 1 Look ! yonder comes 



(1) The judgment of the author in this part of the dialogue is well worth 

 noting. We may observe, that the interlocutors are Ptscator and the Milk- 

 woman f and that the daughter, except when she sings, and signifies her obe- 

 dience to her mother in a speech of three words, is silent. It is pretty clear 

 that Venator, after the second song (charmed perhaps with the maidenly inno- 



