Of ocean. It was wrought of tin refined,
And rounded by the chisel: and it seem’d
Like to the dashing wave: and in the midst
Full many dolphins chased the fry, and show’d
As though they swam the waters, to and fro
Darting tumultuous. Two of silver scale,
Panting above the wave, the fishes mute
Gorged, that beneath them shook their quivering fins
In brass: but on the crag a fisher sate
Observant: in his grasp he held a net,