 | Sonnets of the Wingless Hours |  |
12
RIVER BABBLE.
I.
The wreathing of my rhymes has helped to chase
Away despair from many a wingless day;
And in the corners of my heart I pray
That they may last, or leave at least some trace:
Away despair from many a wingless day;
And in the corners of my heart I pray
That they may last, or leave at least some trace:
Yet would I tear them all, could that replace
The fly-rod in my hand, this eve of May;
And watch the paper fragments float away
Into oblivion, on a trout-stream's face.
The fly-rod in my hand, this eve of May;
And watch the paper fragments float away
Into oblivion, on a trout-stream's face.
Thou fool, thou fool! thou weary, crippled fool!
Thou never more wilt leap from stone to stone
Where rise the trout in every rocky pool;
Thou never more wilt leap from stone to stone
Where rise the trout in every rocky pool;
Thou never more wilt stand at dusk alone
Beside the humming waters, in the cool,
Where dance the flies, and make the trout thy own!
Beside the humming waters, in the cool,
Where dance the flies, and make the trout thy own!
| Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | |