Down In The Bend

Down in the bend the pick’rel lie o’er spring holes warm an’ deep,

An' blink away the winter day ha’f dreamin’, ha’f asleep,

Jest lyin’ there a-waitin’ frum the mornin’ till the night

To grab a stragglin’ shiner jest to ease their appetite.

Down in the bend the winter sun beats warm beneath the hill,

An’ ‘neath the ledge a campin’ fire is burnin’ bright an’ still;

An’ ha’f a score uv fishermen are walkin’ to an’ fro,

Attendin’ lively tiltups, a hundred in a row.

Down in the bend! I only wish ‘at I wuz there today,

A-ketchin’ pick’rel thro’ the ice in jest the same ol’ way.

Jest like I did when but a boy on daddy’s hillside farm,

When life wuz full uv innercense an’ full uv simple charm.

Down in the bend! O blessed spot to drive away dull care!

No crash uv modern din an’ toil disturbs its quiet there;

I’d give a year uv city life to spend a day with you

If I could jest pull thro’ the ice a pickerel or two!

Jan. 26, 1902