From the cool shadows of some mossy bank,
Swallows the bait with one convulsive act,
And learns too late that death was at the feast;
While the glad sportsman feels the sudden jerk,
And plays his victim with extended line,
Swiftly he darts, and through the glittering rings
The silken line is drawn with ringing sound,
Till wearied out with struggling that but serves
To drive the barbed weapon deeper still,
He seeks his quiet shelter ’neath the bank,