Cramp’d by stern Winter’s reign;
But, rouz’d by thy revising beam,
Again they gambol in the stream,
And skim the glassy plain.
Ah! short-liv’d joys! The angler keen
Shall soon to sorrow change the scene,
With the deceptive fly;
The speckled rovers seize the bait,
And swallow unsuspected fate;
They flounce, they gasp, they die.