Posts Tagged ‘Fishing’

To A Trout

July 19, 2012

TO A TROUT.

You thought yourself extremely smart,
You lay there, like a graven statue
Defying any human art
Or human cleverness to catch you.
You cast a cold sardonic eye
And seemed to grin with calm dispassion
Upon the most alluring fly
That I could fashion.

But greed o’er powered you at last,
You leaped at my dull feathered hackle
And found yourself held firm and fast
By slender rod and thread-like tackle.
You lash the waters of the brook
The silver spray in clouds you scatter
But still that small remorseless hook
You cannot shatter.

No use to sulk beneath a snag
That line, though tenuous and slender
Will never slacken, never sag
Till it compels you to surrender.
In vain to rush and dart about,
Endeavoring to postpone disaster
You’ll soon discover, Mr. Trout
You’ve met your master.

The rod held firmly in my hand
As ends this long exciting hour.
I rag you slowly toward the land
Despite your craft and fighting power.
I see your sinewy writhing back,
You soon will feel the net around you.
What’s this? The line is limp and slack!
You’re free; confound you.

Montana Standard (Butte, Montana) Oct 3, 1928

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More Trout Poetry:

Thinkin’ of the Old Trout Brook   — A Trouting Idyl  — The Spring Affliction

Thinkin’ of the Old Trout Brook

June 23, 2012

Reverie of Trouting Days.

I’m thinkin’ of the old trout brook,
A-windin’ where the woods are thick;
An’ see myself a-wadin’ there —
A boy, with feet all tanned and bare.
My eager hand a fishpole grips,
An’ close upon the dancin’ rips
My breath comes short and quick!

I seem to feel the sudden tug,
An’ see the trout dart high in air;
A silv’ry flash of liquid light,
The prelude to a glorious fight!
A dart! a rush! a sullen stop!
The last despairing, anguished flop —
Hi’s mine! Away, dull care!

The prize secure, I see myself
Prone on the bank with panting joy!
An’ — blame my eyes! of I ain’t here
Horrayin’ with the old-time cheer.
While wheezy breath and husky shout
Tell plain the old man’s pet’rin’ out!
Heigho! But I was onc’t a boy!

— N.Y. Evening Sun.

Davenport Daily Leader (Davenport, Iowa) AUg 22, 1895

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Coshocton Morning Tribune (Coshocton, Ohio) Aug 2, 1917

The Trout Brook.

Half Hidden by tall meadow grass that sways with every breeze,
And running through deep, silent pools, and under spreading trees;
Now stealing through the quiet ways of solitary wood,
And now beneath a timbered arch where once an old mill stood;
Across the fields and to the brow where valleys fall away,
Then over beds of shelving rock its waters dance and play,
And now and then, as though in joy of such delightful fun,
It springs into a waterfall that glistens in the sun,
And eddies round and round about, in strange fantastic glee,
Then steadies down and flows away sedately to the sea.

— Frank H. Sweet, in St. Nicholas.

Davenport Daily Leader (Davenport, Iowa) Aug 22, 1895

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Sheboygan Press (Sheboygan, Wisconsin) Jun 21, 1916

A Trouting Idyl

April 22, 2012

Image from Springfield Museums

A TROUTING IDYL.

“I go a-fishing.” — JOHN xxi, 3.
A line,
A hook,
A rod,
A brook,
A man absorbed in fishing;
A cast,
A bite,
“A trout!”
“You’re right;”
For this I have been wishing.”

In camp
To lie,
With trout
To fry,
Farewell to cares and sadness!
No care,
No strife
In such
A life,
What health and rest and gladness!

Then come
With me,
Away
We’ll flee,
And we’ll spend a month together,
By stream
And lake
Sly trout
We’ll take,
And sleep in stormy weather.

— Cambridge Tribune.

Freeborn County Standard (Albert Lea, Minnesota) Apr 20, 1882

Close Call with a Shark – 1881

August 10, 2011

A Frightful Situation.

Capt. David L. Longstreet, of Seabright, says a New Jersey paper, accompanied by a fellow-fisherman, was fishing with great success in ten fathoms water. The day was fine, the sea was right, and the trail was strong. — Suddenly the fish stopped biting. Longstreet was unable to account for the phenomenon, but while thinking it over he felt the strong pull of a bluefish at his hook. At the same instant he saw the dorsal fin of a shark close by the boat. The shark’s tail churned the water into foam twelve feet behind the fin.

1880 Census – David Longstreet – Ocean, Monmouth, New Jersey

When the shark snapped at the bluefish Longstreet was pulling to the boat, he could see that it was not the common shark, but the black shark, or dreaded man-eater. Longstreet continues: “I let go of my line, but the blue-fish darted straight for the boat, slipping under it and escaping. The shark, following closely with open mouth, plunged his nose through the ‘tuck’ of the boat, about a foot forward of the stern, and his under jaw closed on the keel with a crash-like the cut of an axe in a dry tree-trunk. Water spurted into the boat. The shock threw me headforemost out of the boat. I sank, and as I rose, I felt that I was kept under by the agitation of the water by the shark’s tail, which stirred the water like the propellor of a tug. But I struck out vigorously, and, to my horror, came to the surface alongside the tail of the shark. I put out my hand before I realized fully where I was, and touched his cold body, and remember I thought, ‘How hard and strong this is!’ As I turned to swim towards the boat my right foot struck his long tail, and here is the mark of the contact. As soon as I got to swimming I felt at ease. I didn’t seem to realize, as I do now, the horrible fate that awaited me if the struggling monster alongside of me got his head clear of the hole in the boat. I climbed into the boat, helping myself by putting my knee on the shark’s back. Meanwhile the other fisherman had been shouting for help, and a relief-boat soon approached, the struggling shark freeing itself and escaping.”

The Indiana Progress (Indiana, Pennsylvania) Sep 8, 1881