Angler's song

As inward love breeds outward talk, The Hound some praise, and some the Hawk Some, better pleas'd with private sport, Use Tennis; some a Mistress court: But these delights I neither wish, Nor envy, while I freely fish.

Who hunts, doth oft in danger ride; Who hawks, lures oft both far & wide; Who uses games, may often prove A loser; but who falls in love, Is fettered in fond Cupid's snare: My Angle breeds me no such care.

Of Recreation there is none So free as fishing is alone; All other pastimes do no less Than mind and body both possess; My hand alone my work can do. So I can fish and study too.

I care not, I, to fish in seas. Fresh rivers best my mind do please. Whose sweet calm course I contemplate. And seek in life to imitate; In civil bounds I fain would keep And for my past offenses weep.

And when the timorous Trout I wait To take, and he devours my bait. How poor a thing, sometimes I find, Will captivate a greedy mind; And when none bite, I praise the wise Whom vain allurements ne'er surprise.

But yet, though while I fish I fast, I make good fortune my repast; And thereunto my friend invite, In whom I more than that delight: Who is more welcome to my dish. Then to my Angle was my fish.

As well content no prize to take, As use of taken prize to make; For so our Lord was pleased, when He Fishers made Fishers of men; Where (which is in no other game) A man may fish and praise his name.

The first men that our Saviour dear Did choose to wait upon him here, Blest Fishers were; and fish the last Food was, that he on earth did taste: I therefore strive to follow those Whom he to follow him hath chose.