A fisher play'd the pipes with wondrous skill
And, hoping shoals of fish of their own will
Would to the sweet sound of his piping throng,
Let down his net and piped a tuneful song.
But when his breath was spent, his piping nought,
He cast again and fish in numbers caught.
These panting here and there ashore he spied
And as he wash'd his net thus sharply cried,
"Dance without music now! Had ye been wise,
Ye had before danced to my melodies."
Source: Davies: Fables of Babrius = Babrius 9
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