120 THE COMPLETE ANGLEK. [PART. I. 



But Time drives flocks from field to fold ; 

 When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold, 

 Then Philomel becometh dumb ; 

 And age complains of care to come. 



The flowers do fade, and wanton fields 

 The wayward winter, reckoning, yields. 

 A honey tongue, a heart of gall, 

 Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. 



Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, 

 Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, 

 Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten ; 

 In folly ripe, in reason rotten. 



The belt of straw, and ivy buds, 

 The coral clasps, and amber studs, 

 All these in me 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. 



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

 angler ! 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 my fancy did me move, 

 And not for a worldly estate. 



description of "a faire and happy milke maid," given in his "Wife" 

 (Character. 51). Lond. 1688. It is cited at full length by Major. ED. 

 1844. 



