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87

XXI
THE TUNNY-FISHERS

[_]

Idyl xxi.

In rude log-cabin by the lone sea-shore
Two aged fishers slept the sleep of toil.
Rough was their life, and scant their household store,
Scarce aught but hooks and nets and seamen's coil.
To one of these came visions of strange spoil;
He caught a fish—such fish as none before
Caught ever, bright with sheen and glittering foil,
A golden fish; and made high vows no more
To sail the seas, but spend the troven gold;
Then woke and wept to starve or be forsworn.
To whom his fellow: “Surely, being old,
Thou drivellest. Vow and vision both are born
Of air. Catch living fish or die.” And cold
Through eastern windows crept the ashy dawn.