Oh, how he then wished that the earth would quake too,
And split a small crack which would just let him through
To shield him from evil he feared would betide,
From which he's unable to run or to hide.
But as to his wishes the earth's disinclined.
He shook himself well, and then struggled to find
What he'd lost in the panic—his presence of mind.
His line then he snaps from its perch with a crack
And throws his rod into the stream with a smack,
Although with the fear of not getting it back