ro A TRour 



O live, lithe gem of gorgeous hirth^ 

 Springing from icy waters clear 

 To wander restless^ far and near^ 

 Through crystal halls of liquid mirth ! 



A Rainbow smiled^ when thou wert born. 



Or Sunset gave thee hues to keep 



And weave in secret waters deep. 



Till they should match the eyes of Morn. 



Oh ! swift y shy nymph, thy favorite nook, 

 Down by the old forsaken mill. 

 No longer shields thee from the ill 

 Temptation of a fly — and hook ! 



Upon the surface of the stream 

 The bright lure takes thy brighter eyes; 

 The unseen angler is more wise 

 Than thou canst understand or dream. 



Tet he, who thus deceives thy sight. 

 How oft himself by outward shows 

 Is fooled — by superficial woes. 

 Or barbed baits of false delight I 



Ah ! once, how well thy joy shone out. 

 In motions musical and rich 

 In coloring, O Water-witch, 

 Soon to be only — a dead trout ! 



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