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...HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY by ROBERT HERRICK THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 7 by OMAR KHAYYAM IN PROGRESS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO A FOIL'D EUROPEAN REVOLUTIONAIRE by WALT WHITMAN DESERT WIFE by NELLIE COOLEY ALDER I WILL HAVE FAITH by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 24 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH EPITAPH ON JAMES GRIEVE, THE LAIRD OF BOGHEAD by ROBERT BURNS |