To The Fish Of The Brook
by John Wolcot
Why flyest thou away with fear?
Trust me there's naught of danger near,
I have no wicked hook,
All covered with a snaring bait,
Alas, to tempt thee to thy fate,
And drag thee from the brook.
Enjoy thy stream, O harmless fish;
And when an angler for his dish,
Through gluttony's vile sin,
Attempts, a wretch, to pull thee out,
God give thee strength, O gentle trout
To pull the rascal in!
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