Waltoniana | Page 9

what was dearest to him, even his fame, estate, & children.
And you have yet a further title to what was Dr. Donne's, by that dear affection & friendship that was betwixt him and your parents, by which he entailed a love upon yourself, even in your infancy, which was encreased by the early testimonies of your growing merits, and by them continued, till D. Donne put on immortality; and so this mortall was turned into a love that cannot die.
And Sir, 'twas pity he was lost to you in your minority, before you had attained a judgement to put a true value upon the living beauties and elegancies of his conversation; and pitty too, that so much of them as were capable of such an expression, were not drawn by the pensil of a Tytian or a _Tentoret_, by a pen equall and more lasting then their art; for his life ought to be the example of more then that age in which he died. And yet this copy, though very much, indeed too much short of the Originall, will present you with some features not unlike your dead friend, and with fewer blemishes and more ornaments than when 'twas first made publique: which creates a contentment to my selfe, because it is the more worthy of him, and because I may with more civility intitle you to it.
And in this designe of doing so, I have not a thought of what is pretended in most Dedications, _a Commutation for Courtesies_: no indeed Sir, I put no such value upon this trifle; for your owning it will rather increase my Obligations. But my desire is, that into whose hands soever this shall fall, it may to them be a testimony of my gratitude to your self and Family, who descended to such a degree of humility as to admit me into their friendship in the dayes of my youth; and notwithstanding my many infirmities, have continued me in it till I am become gray-headed; and as Time has added to my yeares, have still increased and multiplied their favours.
This, Sir, is the intent of this Dedication: and having made the declaration of it thus publick, I shall conclude it with commending them and you to Gods deare love.
I remain, Sir, what your many merits have made me to be, The humblest of your Servants, ISAAC WALTON.

_To the Reader._
My desire is to inform and assure you, that shall become my Reader, that in that part of this following discourse, which is onely narration, I either speak my own knowledge, or from the testimony of such as dare do any thing, rather than speak an untruth. And for that part of it which is my own observation or opinion, if I had a power I would not use it to force any mans assent, but leave him a liberty to disbelieve what his own reason inclines him to.
Next, I am to inform you, that whereas Dr. Donne's life was formerly printed with his Sermons, and then had the same Preface or Introduction to it; I have not omitted it now, because I have no such confidence in what I have done, as to appear without an apology for my undertaking it.
I have said all when I have wished happinesse to my Reader. I.W.
FOOTNOTES
[1] _Sic_: probably a misprint for "be found?"--ED.
[2] _John King, B. of Lond._
[3] _Hen. King, now B.C._
* * * * *

DAMAN AND DORUS. AN HUMBLE EGLOG.
29th MAY 1660.

[Songs and other Poems. By Alex. Brome, Gent. London, Printed for Henry Brome, at the Gun in Ivy-Lane, 1661.
The Second Edition corrected and enlarged, 1664.
The Third Edition enlarged. London, Printed for Henry Brome, at the Star in Little Brittain, 1668.]

To my ingenious Friend Mr. BROME, _on his various and excellent Poems: An humble Eglog. Written the 29 of May, 1660._
DAMAN and DORUS.
DAMAN.
_Hail happy day!_ Dorus _sit down: Now let no sigh, nor let a frown Lodge near thy heart, or on thy brow. The_ King! the King'_s return'd! and now Let's banish all sad thoughts and sing_ We have our Laws, and have our King.
DORUS.
_'Tis true, and I would sing, but oh! These wars have sunk my heart so low 'Twill not be rais'd._
DAMAN. _What not this day? Why 'tis the_ twenty ninth of May: Let Rebels _spirits sink; let those That like the_ Goths and Vandals _rose To ruine families, and bring Contempt upon our_ Church, our King, _And all that's dear to us, be sad; But be not thou, let us be glad._ And, _Dorus_, to invite thee, look, Here's a Collection in this Book, Of all those chearful Songs, that we Have sung so oft and merilie[1]
As we have march'd to fight the cause Of _Gods Anointed_, and our Laws Such Songs as make not the least ods Betwixt us