A POEM.
163
Nor nauseates lucre's scent, from fishy steam.
Why wilt thou thus, too lofty heroine!
Shrink from the clasping ocean's fond embrace;
For thee he feeds the salmon silver-scal'd,
Which you, into his watery pastures wide,
Each autumn send to graze; though slim, and gaunt, 140
They enter his domains, yet soon restored,
The whitest fat their entrails overwraps.
But they, impatient of their happiness,
Returning, such strong love of native soil
Attracts them to thy silver channelled streams;
Jump the steep wave of Spey's careering flood:
Strait, watchful fishers spread the meshy snare
That floats with many a cork, and mars their play,
Whole shoals involving, that now thick, and fierce,
Beat the green bank, indignant of their fate. 150
In salt embalmed, they thence are carried far
O'er the green sea, of lordly messes prime,
To cheer the six week fast of Spanish peers:
Or into France, the sprightly land of wine,
To give the goblet more exalted soul.
Neglect not thou the sea, that yields thee salt,
Salt, origin of tastes, with which we eat
The well-fed ox, and bread by labour earned:
Why wilt thou thus, too lofty heroine!
Shrink from the clasping ocean's fond embrace;
For thee he feeds the salmon silver-scal'd,
Which you, into his watery pastures wide,
Each autumn send to graze; though slim, and gaunt, 140
They enter his domains, yet soon restored,
The whitest fat their entrails overwraps.
But they, impatient of their happiness,
Returning, such strong love of native soil
Attracts them to thy silver channelled streams;
Jump the steep wave of Spey's careering flood:
Strait, watchful fishers spread the meshy snare
That floats with many a cork, and mars their play,
Whole shoals involving, that now thick, and fierce,
Beat the green bank, indignant of their fate. 150
In salt embalmed, they thence are carried far
O'er the green sea, of lordly messes prime,
To cheer the six week fast of Spanish peers:
Or into France, the sprightly land of wine,
To give the goblet more exalted soul.
Neglect not thou the sea, that yields thee salt,
Salt, origin of tastes, with which we eat
The well-fed ox, and bread by labour earned:
