“And look—a gull on the shoal.
Yon surface-shiner would better be shy;
The bird will swallow him whole.”
The fish pass’d on, till the sea grew deep,
Then, plunging down through the blue,
A flash came back from a parting leap,
As at last he sank from view.
“Ho, ho,” cried the fry, “we can all do that,
If we only go out with the tide.”
But the tide had gone, so, left on the flat,