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ON ANGLING. 229 |
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With hungry pikes in wanton play,
The timorous trouts appear; The hungry pikes forget to prey,
The timorous trouts to fear.
With equal haste the thoughtless crew,
To the fair tempter fly, Nor grieve they, whilst their eyes they view,
That by her hand they die.
Thus I, too, view'd the nymph of late ;
Ah ! simple fish beware ; Soon will you find my wretched fate,
And struggle in the snare.
But, fair one, though these toils succeed,
Of conquest be not vain ; Nor think o'er all the scaly breed,
Unpunish'd thus to reign.
Remember, in a wat'ry glass,
His charms Narcissus spied ; When for his own bewitching face,
The youth despair'd and died. |
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