(Dedicated
to _______ ______ ______*)
I
fished adown a swirling stream
Knee deep in springtime bliss;
“Was
ever man so fortunate,”
My glad heart cried, “as this?”
It
was a perfect April day
An ideal day for trout;
My
rod was new, my reel in tune,
My line both new and stout.
The
stream it teemed with darting fish,
Big fellows all aglow;
I
was cock sure of that because
The farmer told me so.
I’d
tipped him with a fiver, then
I opened up my gear;
O,
joy the foaming falls to see,
O joy the splash to hear!
Down,
mile on mile, I swashed within
The winding, weaving stream;
My
singing reel in sweet accord
With wood and wave agleam!
O,
what a tale for fireside cup,
Perchance – but woe is me!
The
only strike I got was when
He hit me for the “V”.
April
11, 1910
*Write
your name on the lines above.
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