Fragment Prom the "Berenice."

Ye that would fain net fish and wealth withal,

For bare existence harrowing yonder mere,

To this our Lady slay at even-fall

That holy fish, which, since it hath no peer
For gloss and sheen, the dwellers about here

Have named the Silver Fish. This done, let down

Your nets, and draw them up, and never fear

To find them empty * * * *