 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
132
IZAAK WALTON.
By guiltless guile the spotted trout to snare;In idlesse all unblamed to while away
With contemplation sweet the sunny day;
To stroll in morning's dewy freshness where
The stream invited, and grey-mantled sky,
And so with buoyant float, or mimic fly,
To win the sinless triumphs of thine art,—
These were thy simple pastimes, kind old man,
These are thy fame: yet would I praise thee more
For the rich treasure of a childlike heart
That longs to compass all the good it can,
Tender and self-forgetful, gushing o'er
With cheerful thoughts and generous feelings when
Loving thou yearnest on thy fellow-men.
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |