Fishcraft 13 



When all the grass was spangled, with finny 



leaping gems, 

 Gems strung like precious rubies, on supple willow 



stems. 



They say, my little friend, that the ripple of the 



stream, 



With thy vermillion beauty, may no longer gleam. 

 That the golden yellow sides, that shine like 



sunset glow, 



Or the colors intermingled in the showery rainbow, 

 May never more be seen where the crystal waters 



glide, 

 The clear pellucid waters that o'er the shallows 



slide. 



They say thou art a pirate, a brigand that doth 



slay 

 The eggs and young of choicer fish that in the 



waters play; 



I know not if such charges for outlawry be true, 

 But none the less my sympthies shall ever be 



with you." 



