FISHERMAN 



By Edgar A. Guest 



'Tis good to go a-fisliing on river, lake or sea, 

 The flying gulls above you, and the ivaters just as free. 

 Away from wheels of commerce and smohe of factory stack, 

 A day of joy before you, and duty at your hack. 



'Tis good to go a-fishing, ivhen skies above are blue, 

 Out of the long year's sheaf of days to pilfer one or two; 

 To have no thought of money, no urge for worldly fame 

 To be at heart a fisherman, and a fisherman by name. 



Men see you from the distance, and this is all they say: 

 "There goes another fisherman. May luck be his today!" 

 And be you rich or be you poor, they have no wish to know. 

 For all the world is friendly to the men who fishing go. 



So let me be a fisherman. No other rank I'll seek. 

 The care- free man upon the bay of whom the travelers speak. 

 For there is envy in their eyes which kings may never know. 

 And every stranger cries, "Good luck" to men who fishing go. 



