poets, who all night in blest heav'ns dwell,
Are call'd next morn to their true living hell;
So I unthrifty, to myself untrue,
Rise cloath'd with real wants, 'cause wanting you,
And what substantial riches I possesse,
I must to these unvalued dreams confesse.

But all our clowds shall be oreblown, when thee
In our horizon bright once more we see;
When thy dear presence shall our souls new-dress,
And spring an universal cheerfulnesse;
When we shall be orewhelm'd in joy, like they
That change their night for a vast half-year's day.

Then shall the wretched few, that do repine,
See and recant their blasphemies in wine;
Then shall they grieve, that thought I've sung too free,
High and aloud of thy true worth and thee,
And their fowl heresies and lips submit
To th' all-forgiving breath of Amoret;
And me alone their angers object call,
That from my height so miserably did fall;
And crie out my invention thin and poor,
Who have said nought, since I could say no more.

<85.1> Charles Cotton the younger, Walton's friend. He was born
on the 28th of April, 1630. He married, in 1656, Isabella,
daughter of Sir Thomas Hutchinson, of Owthorp, co. Notts, Knight.
See Walton's ANGLER, ed. 1760, where a life of Cotton, compiled
from the notes of the laborious Oldys, will be found. The poet
died in 1687, and, two years later, his miscellaneous verses were
printed in an octavo volume.

<85.2> i.e. the shadow of myself.

<85.3> A crime, from the Latin PIACULUM which, from meaning
properly AN ATONEMENT, was afterwards used to express WHAT
REQUIRED an atonement, i.e. an offence or sin.

<85.4> The sky in the early part of the morning, before it is
clouded by mists.

<85.5> Phaeton.

<85.6> 0riginal reads, OF MILLIONS BROKEN MORE. The above is
certainly preferable; but the reader may judge for himself.
It should be borne in mind that the second part of LUCASTA
was not even printed during the poet's life. If he had survived
to republish the first portion, and to revise the second perhaps
we should have had a better text.

ADVICE TO MY BEST BROTHER,
COLL: FRANCIS LOVELACE.<86.1>

Frank, wil't live unhandsomely? trust not too far
Thy self to waving seas: for what thy star,
Calculated by sure event, must be,
Look in the glassy-epithete,<86.2> and see.

Yet settle here your rest, and take your state,
And in calm halcyon's nest ev'n build your fate;
Prethee lye down securely, Frank, and keep