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The Fishers
by
H. P. Nichols


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Silence! stir not! for a whisper
     Would affright thy pretty prey;
Not a motion, little lisper,
     Else the fish will glide away.

Hush! he's coming! he is swimming
     Slowly round and round the bait;
Steady! though thine eye is brimming
     Full of mirth that will not wait.

And thy brother near thee kneeling
     Fears to hear thy ringing shout;
Gently! near and nearer stealing
     Comes the brightly spotted trout.

There! thy hook has caught him surely;
     Firmly hold thy slender rod;
Pull away! and then securely
     Place him on the grassy sod.

'Neath the green boughs rustling o'er you,
     Fish away the livelong day;
And with evening's star before you,
     Wander home at twilight gray.


This poem is in the public domain.

 

 


Henry P. Nichols (1816 - 1890) was from Salem, Massachusetts. He operated a very successful publishing company in Boston in the mid-1800s with partner William Crosby. The company later became Nichols & Noyes.

 

 

 


Post New Comment:
wordartdjc:
Sweet and swingy (if that's a word?) We do still like rhyming verse.
Posted 12/11/2018 04:25 PM
KevinArnold:
AB end rhymes persist because they hold a poem together so tightly.
Posted 12/09/2018 10:15 AM
cork:
Fishing is fun!
Posted 12/09/2018 09:52 AM
Jancan:
WOW! Do I LOVE this poem! Janice
Posted 12/09/2018 07:39 AM


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