A Thrush was feeding on a myrtle-tree and did not move from it
because its berries were so delicious. A Fowler observed her
staying so long in one spot, and having well bird-limed his reeds,
The Thrush, being at the point of death, exclaimed, "O foolish
creature that I am! For the sake of a little pleasant food I have
deprived myself of my life."
(Translated by George Fyler Townsend, 1814-1900)