Song Of The Reel

In fancy he can hear the brook

     That murmurs through the vale;

And to him at his city desk

     It tells the sweetest tale.

It tells of trout ten inches long,

     And happy does he feel

When o’er the city’s throb he hears,

     The music of the reel.

And later when his dream comes true,

     Or when he thinks it will;

When he is casting hopes and flies

     Upon the troutless rill;

Will he go home content? O no,

     To market he will steal,

And land a dozen beauties by

     The music of the “real”.

May 7, ‘99

 Ac. by World