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On the green bank a truant school-boy stands ;
Well has this urchin mark't her mery play, And ashen rod obeys his guileful hands,
And leads the mimick fly across her way ;
Askannce, with listly look and coy delay, The hungrie trout the glitterannd treacher eyes,
Semblant of life, with speckled wings so gay ; Then, slyly nibbling, prudish from it flies, Till with a bouncing start she bites the truthless prize.
Ah ! when the younker gives the fatal twitch ;
Struck with amaze she feels the hook ypright Deep in her gills, and, plonging where the brech
Shaddows the poole, she runs in dread affright;
In vain the deepest rocke her late delight, In vain the sedgy nook for help she tries;
The laughing elf now curbs, now aids her flight, The more entangled still the more she flies, And soon amid the grass the panting captive lies.
Where now, oh ! pity, where that sprightly play, That wanton bounding, and exulting joy,
That lately welcom'd the retouring ray,
When by the riv'lets banks, with bushes coy, April walked forth—ah ! never more to toy
In purling streams, she pants, she gasps, and dies.
]f)20. Micki.e's Syr Martyn.