. Rhymes of the stream and forest. 6t A:.,.%_4:. -1 A- Tke Old Man s Story The old man sat in his great arm-chair, His fly-book on his knee,And we hstened all, to the tale he told, Of the fish that used to be. For his eyes were clear, though his hair waswhite, And the old fly-book was his thin hand shook as he lifted there Those flies with feathers torn. Twas back in the days of long agoThat 1 fished that mountain stream, And the month was June, and the day was oneWhen we anglers fish and dream. Full many a fish to my creel had come From the pools far up the hill,Ere I reached the edg
. Rhymes of the stream and forest. 6t A:.,.%_4:. -1 A- Tke Old Man s Story The old man sat in his great arm-chair, His fly-book on his knee,And we hstened all, to the tale he told, Of the fish that used to be. For his eyes were clear, though his hair waswhite, And the old fly-book was his thin hand shook as he lifted there Those flies with feathers torn. Twas back in the days of long agoThat 1 fished that mountain stream, And the month was June, and the day was oneWhen we anglers fish and dream. Full many a fish to my creel had come From the pools far up the hill,Ere I reached the edge of the pasture green Where the brook flows deep and still. 62. You know the pool where the shelving bank Hangs wide oer the willows flies shot clear of the low-hung branch, Then sank at the rapids foot. Though twas years ago that good fish rose, To me, as tho yesterday,There comes the glint of his silvery sides And the flash of the rising spray. My line snapped taut and my reel yelled keen, As I met that glorious rise,And the hook sank deep in the iron-like jaws Of that fish of wondrous size. Then he sped below to the pools black depths, And my trusty rod bent low,While my taut line sang through the water clear. Like the whirr of the redmans bow. 63
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookpublishernewyorkforestandst
