ILLUSTRATED FROM ANGLING. 219 



" A MOBAL. 



There was (so says an ancient tale), 



I' th 1 middle of a pleasant dale, 



A spacious, but a standing pool, 



Immensely deep, and very foul : 



The little brooks on every side 



Which daily did into it glide, 



Preserved its muddy waters sweet, 



And for the noblest fishes meet. 



Here did the lordly fishes long 



In shoals innumerable throng. 



Here were they wont to frisk and play, 



And spend in merriment the day ; 



Orew plump and fat with dainties fed, 



Which were i' th' little channels bred ; 



But (like mankind), the fishy race, 



'Midst plenty, quite abandoned grace, 



And rashly (proud to show their might) 



Seiz'd on the little fishes' right : 



Damm'd up their brooks, suppressed their springs, 



And threatened more revengeful things- 



But, oh! the dire effects of pride, 



When will, not justice, is its guide ; 



The frightened brooks the pool desert, 



And no refreshing baits impart j 



No more their limpid streams advance, 



Nor purling circles thither dance ; 



No fresh supplies approach its brink, 



But, all suppressed with horror, shrink, ! 



And haste to shun th' offensive stink. 



Meanwhile within, distracting fear, 



And sickly drooping looks appear." 1726. 



