 | The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang |  |
88
The Salmo Irritans
A most accommodating fish
Is he who lies in stream or pot,
Who rises frequent as you wish
At Silver Doctor or Jock Scott,
Or any other fly you've got
In all the piscatory clans;
You strike, but ah! you strike him not;
He is the Salmo Irritans.
Is he who lies in stream or pot,
Who rises frequent as you wish
At Silver Doctor or Jock Scott,
Or any other fly you've got
In all the piscatory clans;
You strike, but ah! you strike him not;
He is the Salmo Irritans.
You give him the accustomed rest;
A quarter of an hour or so—
And then you cast your very best,
Your heart is throbbing, loud or low;
He rises with a splendid show
Of silver sides and fins like fans,
Perchance you think you've got him? No!
He is the Salmo Irritans.
A quarter of an hour or so—
And then you cast your very best,
Your heart is throbbing, loud or low;
He rises with a splendid show
Of silver sides and fins like fans,
Perchance you think you've got him? No!
He is the Salmo Irritans.
89
You leave him till the eventide,
When wandering on by dub and pool
A score of other casts you've tried,
All fruitless and all beautiful;
But he still rises, calm and cool,
Who is not yours, nor any man's!
He leaves you looking like a fool—
He is the Salmo Irritans.
When wandering on by dub and pool
A score of other casts you've tried,
All fruitless and all beautiful;
But he still rises, calm and cool,
Who is not yours, nor any man's!
He leaves you looking like a fool—
He is the Salmo Irritans.
Envoy
Prince, wherefore comes he always short,This demon whom the angler bans?
This is his selfish view of sport,
He is the Salmo Irritans!
| The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang | |