The fowler his whistle may ply in the field...

The fowler his whistle may ply in the field, To lure the poor birds, saying: "Come and be killed." Each songster conceives ’tis the voice of its mate, 75 Descends from the air, and meets with its fate. The sinner, in pious cant, uses a wile, To trap the unwary who ponders no guile. The upright deal faithfully, truly, in trust; The wicked imagine but fraud and distrust. A lion…