Sir, This was the saying of that Learned man; and I do easily believe that peace, and patience, and a calm content did cohabit in the cheerful heart of Sir _Henry Wotton_, because I know, that when he was beyond seventy years of age he made this description of a part of the present pleasure that possest him, as he sate quietly in a Summers evening on a bank a fishing; it is a description of the Spring, which because it glides as soft and sweetly from his pen, as that River does now by which it was then made, I shall repeat unto you. _This day dame Nature seem'd in love: The lustie sap began to move; Fresh juice did stir th'imbracing Vines, And birds had drawn their_ Valentines. _The jealous_ Trout, _that low did lye, Rose at a well dissembled flie; There stood my friend with patient skill, Attending of his trembling quil. Already were the eaves possest With the swift Pilgrims dawbed nest: The Groves already did rejoice, In_ Philomels _triumphing voice: The showrs were short, the weather mild, The morning fresh, the evening smil'd_. Jone _takes her neat rubb'd pail, and now She trips to milk the sand-red Cow; Where for some sturdy foot-ball Swain_. Jone _strokes a_ Sillibub _or twaine. The fields and gardens were beset With_ Tulips, Crocus, Violet, _And now, though late, the modest_ Rose _Did more then half a blush disclose. Thus all looks gay and full of chear To welcome the new liveried year_. These were the thoughts that then possest the undisturbed mind of Sir _Henry Wotton_. Will you hear the wish of another Angler, and the commendation of his happy life [Jo. Da.], which he also sings in Verse. _Let me live harmlesly, and near the brink Of_ Trent _or_ Avon _have a dwelling place, Where I may see my quil or cork down sink, With eager bit of_ Pearch, _or_ Bleak, _or_ Dace; And on the world and my Creator think, Whilst some men strive, ill gotten goods t'imbrace; And others spend their time in base excess Of wine or worse, in war and wantonness. _Let them that list these pastimes still pursue, And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill, So I the fields and meadows green may view, And daily by fresh Rivers walk at will, Among the_ Daisies _and the_ Violets _blue, Red_ Hyacinth, _and yellow_ Daffadil, _Purple_ Narcissus, _like the morning rayes, Pale_ ganderglass _and azure_ Culverkayes. _I count it higher pleasure to behold The stately compass of the lofty_ Skie, _And in the midst thereof (like burning Gold) The flaming Chariot of the worlds great eye, The watry clouds, that in the aire up rold, With sundry kinds of painted colour flye; And fair_ Aurora _lifting up her head, Still blushing, rise from old_ Tithonius _bed.