Do welcome with their quire the Summer's Queen,
The meadows fair where Flora's guifts among,
Are intermixt the verdant grasse between,
The silver skaled fish that softly swim
Within the brooks and crystall watry brim.
All these and many more of his creation,
That made the heavens, the Angler oft doth see,
And takes therein no little delectation
To thinke how strange and wonderfull they bee,