"So the poor little thing swam around in a ring, In a globe of a crystalline crudity; Swam round and swam round, but no refuge she found From the public display of her nudity; No weedy retreat for a cloister discreet, From the eye of the mob to exempt her; Can you wonder she paled, and her appetite failed, Till even a fly couldn't tempt her?
I watched with dismay as she faded away; Each day she grew slimmer and slimmer. From an amber hat burned, to a silver she turned Then swiftly was dimmer and dimmer. No longer she gleamed, like a spectre she seemed, One morning I anxiously sought her: I only could stare - she no longer was there . . . She'd simply dissolved in the water."