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honoured friend, Charles Cotton, Esq. :" " though I be 

 more than a hundred miles from you, and in the eighty- 

 third year of my age, yet I will forget both, and next month 

 begin a pilgrimage to beg your pardon: for I would die in 

 your favour, and till then will live, Sir, your most affec- 

 tionate father and friend, Isaac Walton." One cannot won- 

 der at the good old man wishing to visit the courteous and 

 well-bred Mr. Cotton, and to enjoy the intercourse of hos- 

 pitable urbanity, near the pastoral streams of the Dove, 

 when he had received such an invitation as the following, 

 addressed to his " dear and most worthy friend, Mr. Isaac 

 Walton:" 



Whilst in this cold and blustering clime, 

 Where bleak winds howl and tempests roar, 



We pass away the roughest time 

 Has been of many years before ; 



Whilst from the most tempestuous nooks 

 The dullest blasts our peace invade, 



And by great rains our smallest brooks 

 Are almost navigable made ; 



Whilst all the ills are so improved, 

 Of this dead quarter of the year, 



That even you, so much beloved, 



We would not now wish with us here ; 



In this estate, I say, it is 



Some comfort to us to suppose, 

 That, in a better clime than this, 



You, our dear friend, have more repose ; 



And some delight to me the while, 

 Though nature now does weep in rain, 



To think that I have seen her smile, 

 And haply may I do again. 



