VII.

Such streams Rome's yellow Tiber cannot show,
The Iberian Tagus, or Ligurian Po;

The Meese, the Danube, and the Rhine,
Are puddle-water all compared with thine;
And Loire's pure streams yet too polluted are
With thine, much purer, to compare :
The rapid Garonne, and the winding Seine,
Are both too mean,

Beloved Dove, with thee

To vie priority;

Nay, Thame and Isis, when conjoin'd, submit,
And lay their trophies at thy silver feet.

VIII.

Oh, my beloved rocks! that rise
To awe the earth, and brave the skies:
From some aspiring mountain's crown,
How dearly do I love,

Giddy with pleasure, to look down;

And from the vales to view the noble heights above!
Oh, my beloved caves! from Dog-star's heat,
And all anxieties, my safe retreat;

What safety, privacy, what true delight,

In th' artificial night

Your gloomy entrails make,

Have I taken, do I take!

How oft, when grief has made me fly
To hide me from society,

Ev'n of my dearest friends, have I
In your recesses' friendly shade,

All my sorrows open laid,

And my most secret woes entrusted to your privacy!

IX.

Lord! would men let me alone,
What an over-happy one
Should I think myself to be,

Might I in this desert place,
Which most men in discourse disgrace,
Live but undisturb'd and free!
Here, in this despis'd recess,
Would I, maugre winter's cold,
And the summer's worst excess,
Try to live out to sixty full years old:
And, all the while,

Without an envious eye

On any thriving under Fortune's smile,
Contented live, and then-contented die.

C. C.

PISCATOR JUNIOR, AND VIATOR. PISCATOR.

OU are happily overtaken, Sir: may a man be so bold as to inquire how far you travel this way?

VIATOR. Yes sure, Sir, very freely; though it be a question I cannot very well resolve you : as not knowing myself how far it is to Ashbourn, where I intend to-night to take up my inn.

PISC. Why then, Sir, seeing I perceive you to be a stranger in these parts, I shall take upon me to inform you, that from the town you last came through, called Brailsford, it is five miles; and you are not yet above half a mile on this side.

VIAT. SO much! I was told it was but ten miles from Derby; and, methinks, I have rode almost so far already.

PISC. O, Sir, find no fault with large measure of good land, which Derbyshire abounds in, as much as most counties of England.

VIAT. It may be so; and good land, I confess, affords a pleasant prospect: but, by your good leave, Sir, large measure of foul way is not altogether so acceptable.

Pisc. True, Sir, but the foul way serves to justify the fertility of the soil, according to the proverb, "There is good land where there is foul way;" and is of good use to inform you of the riches of the country you are come into, and of its continual travel and traffic to the country town you came from; which is also very observable by the fulness of its road, and the loaden horses you meet every where upon the way.

VIAT. Well, Sir, I will be content to think as well of your country as you would desire: and I shall have a great deal of reason both to think and to speak very well of you, if I may obtain the happiness of your company to the fore-mentioned place, provided your affairs lead you that way, and that they will permit you to slack your pace, out of compla

cency to a traveller utterly a stranger in these parts, and who am still to wander further out of my own knowledge.

PISC. Sir, you invite me to my own advantage, and I am ready to attend you, my way lying through that town; but my business, that is, my home, some miles beyond it: however, I shall have time enough to lodge you in your quarters, and afterwards to perform my own journey. In the mean time, may I be so bold as to inquire the end of your journey?

VIAT. 'Tis into Lancashire, Sir, and about some business of concern to a near relation of mine: for I assure you, I do not use to take so long journeys as from Essex, upon the single account of pleasure.

Pisc. From thence, Sir! I do not then wonder you should appear dissatisfied with the length of the miles, and the foulness of the way; though I am sorry you should begin to quarrel with them so soon: for, believe me, Sir, you will find the miles much longer, and the way much worse, before you come to your journey's end.

VIAT. Why truly, Sir, for that I am prepared to expect the worst; but methinks the way is mended since I had the good fortune to fall into your good company.

PISC. You are not obliged to my company for that; but because you are already past the worst, and the greatest part of your way to your lodging.

VIAT. I am very glad to hear it, both for the ease of myself and my horse; but especially because