APRIL 17.
THE FLYING FISH.
Bright ocean-bird, alike who sharing
Both elements, could sport the air in,
Or swim the sea, your winged fins wearing
The rainbow’s hues,
Your fate this day full long shall bear in
Her mind the muse,
In vain for you had nature blended
Two regions, and your powers extended;
Now high you rose, now low descended;
But folly marred
Those gifts, the bounteous dame intended
To prove your guard.
A flying fish, could bounds include her?
She winged the deep, if birds pursued her;
She swam the sky, if dolphins viewed her;
But now what wish
Tempts you to watch yon bright deluder,
Unthinking fish?
Alas!—a fly above you viewing,
Gay tints his gilded wings imbuing,
You mount; and ah! too far pursuing
At fancy’s call,
Heedless you strike the sails, where ruin
Awaits your fall.
Your fins, too dry, no longer play you,
And soon those fins no more upstay you;
You drop; and now on deck survey you
Jack, Tom, and Bill,
Who up may take, and down may lay you,
As suits their will.
Oh! list my tale, fair maids of Britain!
This subject fain I’d try my wit on,
And show the rock you’re apt to split on:
Then cry not—“Pish!”—
You’re all (I’m glad the thought I hit on)
Just flying fish!
Beauty, does nature’s hand bestow it?
It swells your pride, and plain you show it;
Though wealthy cit, and airy poet
Your charms pursue,
Church—physic—law—you he fair, you know it,
You’ll none, not you!= .
Age looks too dry, and youth too blooming:
The scholar’s face there’s too much gloom in;
This man’s too dull, that too presuming;
His mouth’s too wide!—
For mending, Lord! you think there’s room in
The best, when tried.
In each you find some fault to snarl at,
And wilful seek the sun by starlight;
Till some gay glittering rogue in scarlet,
Who lures the eye,
Dazzles poor miss, and then the varlet
Pretends to fly.
His flight has piqued, his glitter caught her;
And soon her mammy’s darling daughter,
Whose eyes have made such mighty slaughter,
Charm’d by a fop,
Is fairly hit ’twixt wind and water,
And, miss! you drop!
Then certain fate of fallen lasses,
When short-lived bliss more frail than glass is,
To eyes of all degrees and classes
Exposed you stand,
And soon your beauty circling passes
From hand to hand.
In vain your flattering charms display you;
From home and parents far away, you
See former friends with scorn survey you;
While fools and brutes
May take you up, or down may lay you,
As humour suits.
Oh! mark, dear girls, the moral story
Of one, who breathes but to adore ye!
Let no rash action mar your glory;
But when you wish
To catch some coxcomb, place before ye
The flying fish.