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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=426107" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Fish - 0093 - Current version after Bryan Waller Procter Pre-Existence</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=426107" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I sit beside the spring and wish <br>I had a silver tail, <br>so up the stream my trail could swish, <br>sunlight upon each scale, <br>till by some bay my school of fish<br>might spot a trawler's trail, <br>which, followed, must tense anguish net -<br>woe to temptatios sail! <br>Who would provide a tasty dish<br>one morn at market sale, <br>fed as fritters - perish first<br>scales weighed upon some scale, <br>no dawn to spawn or to cherish? <br>I blubber like a whale... <br>the thought sends shivers, - feverish<br>from seashore I turn tail<br>such crass ambitions vanish swift -<br>so here I leave my tale! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=426107" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">(18 June 1975)</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Jonathan+Robin">Jonathan Robin</a></strong></div>

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