And hold one minute of this holy leisure
Beyond the riches of this empty pleasure.
Welcome, pure thoughts; welcome, ye silent groves;
These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves.
Now the wing'd people of the sky shall sing
My cheerful anthems to the gladsome spring:
A pray'r-book, now, shall be my looking-glass,
In which I will adore sweet virtue's face.
Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace cares,
No broken vows dwell here, nor pale-fac'd fears;
Then here I'll sit, and sigh my hot love's folly,
And learn t' affect an holy melancholy:
And if contentment be a stranger then,
I'll ne'er look for it, but in heaven, again.
Venator. Well, Master, these verses be worthy to keep a room in every
man's memory. I thank you for them; and I thank you for your many
instructions, which, God willing, I will not forget. And as St. Austin, in
his Confessions, commemorates the kindness of his friend Verecundus,
for lending him and his companion a country house, because there they
rested and enjoyed themselves, free from the troubles of the world, so,
having had the like advantage, both by your conversation and the art
you have taught me, I ought ever to do the like; for, indeed, your
company and discourse have been so useful and pleasant, that, I may
truly say, I have only lived since I enjoyed them and turned angler, and
not before.
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