[1] This World Is Full Of Shadow-Chasers, Most Easily Deceived. Should I Enumerate These Racers, I Should Not Be Believed. I Send Them All To Aesop'S Dog, Which, Crossing Water On A Log, Espied The Meat He Bore, Below; To Seize Its Image, Let It Go; Plunged In; To Reach The Shore Was Glad, With Neither What He Hoped, Nor What he'd Had.