Come, live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove,
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.

There will the river whisp'ring run,
Warm'd by thy eyes more than the sun
And there the enamel'd fish will stay
Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hash,
Most amorously to thee will swim,
Gladder to catch thee. than thou him.

If thou, to be so seen, beest loath
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both;
And if mine eyes have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee,

Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset
With strangling snares or windowy net;

Let coarse bold hands, from slimy nest,
The bedded fish in banks outwrest;
Let curious traitors sleeve silk flies,
To 'witch poor wand'ring fishes' eyes.

For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art shine own bait;
That fish that is not catcht thereby,
Is wiser afar, alas, than I.

Piscator. Well remembered, honest scholar. I thank you for these choice
verses; which I have heard formerly, but had quite forgot, till they were
recovered by your happy memory. Well, being I have now rested myself
a little, I will make you some requital, by telling you some observations
of the Eel; for it rains still: and because, as you say, our angles are as
money put to use, that thrives when we play, therefore we'll sit still, and
enjoy ourselves a little longer under this honeysuckle hedge.