Alighting now from his "courser-toad" the Ouphe folds his wings
around his bosom, springs on a rock, breathes a prayer, throws his
arms above his head,
Then tosses a tiny curve in air
And plunges in the waters blue.
Here, however, a host of difficulties await him by far too
multitudinous to enumerate. We will content ourselves with simply
stating the names of his most respectable assailants. These are the
"spirits of the wave" dressed in "snail-plate armor" and aided by
the "mailed shrimp," the "prickly prong," the "blood-red leech," the
"stony star-fish," the "jellied quarl," the "soldier-crab," and the
"lancing squab." But the hopes of our hero are high, and his limbs are
strong, so
He spreads his arms like the swallow's wing,
And throws his feet with a frog-like fling.
All however, is to no purpose.
On his thigh the leech has fixed his hold,
The quarl's long arms are round him roll'd,
The prickly prong has pierced his skin,
And the squab has thrown his javelin,
The gritty star has rubb'd him raw,
And the crab has struck with his giant claw;
He bawls with rage, and he shrieks with pain
He strikes around but his blows are vain-
So then,
He turns him round and flies amain
With hurry and dash to the beach again.
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