The tortured mullet served the Roman's pride By darting round the crystal vase, whose heat Ensured his woe and beauty till he died: These unharmed gold-fish yield as rich a treat; Seen thus, in parlour-twilight, they appear As though the hand of Midas, hovering o'er. Wrought on the waters, as his touch drew near, And set them glancing with his golden power, The flash of transmutation! In their glass They float and glitter, by no anguish rackt; And, though we see them swelling as they pass, 'Tis but a painless and phantasmal act, The trick of their own bellying walls, which charms All eyes -- themselves it vexes not, nor harms. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO IMAGINATION (2) by EMILY JANE BRONTE HALLOWED GROUND by THOMAS CAMPBELL PROLOGUE, SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK AT ... THEATRE ROYALE, 1747 by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) A PRELUDE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE NEW SIRENS: A PALINODE by MATTHEW ARNOLD |