. Rhymes of the stream and forest. 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.
. Rhymes of the stream and forest. 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. fk But at last he turned from his downward rushAnd sped toward the shelving bank, Where my line scraped harsh on the willowsrootWhile the heart within me sank. But the old line held and the day was won For at last that good fish layMid the grass and ferns of the pasture bank In the light of that fair June day. The largest fish in my creel that night,For he weighed just two pounds four, Do you wonder then that in memory oftI fight that battle oer ? His old eyes closed, for the tale was done,And his thoughts on that far-off day Of that time long gone and that largest fishThat failed to get away. 64 Song of the Forest I sing from the heart of the throbbing Hfe, From the sap within the tree,From the hidden flowers neath the matted leaves, And the south wind blowing free. I sing from the cool of the shadowed the Summers sun rides high, From the deepened green of the full-grownleaves,Neath the heat of the sultry sky. Once again I sing, when the Autumn windsBlow chill oer the wood
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookpublishernewyorkforestandst
