The god was moved at what the fair had sued, When she so lately by her master view’d In her known figure, on a sudden took A fisher’s habit, and a manly look. To whom her owner hasted to inquire: “O thou,” said he, “whose baits hide treacherous wire; Whose art can manage, and experienced skill The taper angle, and the bobbing quill, So may the sea be ruffled with no storm, But smooth with calms, as you the truth inform; So your deceit may no shy fishes feel, Till struck, and fasten’d on the bearded steel. Did not you standing view upon the strand A wandering maid? I’m sure I saw her stand, Her hair disorder’d, and her homely dress Betray’d her want, and witness’d her distress.”