A dog growing thinner, for want of a dinner,
Once purloined him a joint from a tray,
"How happy I am, with this shoulder of lamb,"
Thought the cur as he trotted away.
But the way that he took, lay just over a brook,
Which he found it was needful to cross;
So without more ado, he plunged in to go through,
Not dreaming of danger or loss.
But what should appear, in this rivulet clear,
As he thought upon coolest reflection,