Salmon Fishing. 147 



"IT IS NOT ALL GOLD THAT GLISTENS." 



Beneath the shelter of a rock, that had for ages stood, 

 And battled bravely with the stream, in spite of storm or flood,. 

 A salmon lurked in secret ; aye, a noble fish was he, 

 Bespangled o'er with silver, and just "fresh-run" from the sea. 



When lo ! with flashing eyes of fire, while watching for his prey, 

 A strange, though beauteous object he sees before him play ; 

 Now here, now there the tiny thing, radiant in every hue, 

 Turns proudly to display its charms of gold, and green, and blue. 



With painted wings expanded, oh ! how gracefully it glides 

 In many and many a circling sweep before the salmon's eyes ! 

 No waltzing ballroom-beauty in the height of all her glee, 

 Than that gay and gorgeous creature could more attractive be. 



Beware, beware, thou noble fish ! oh, turn thine eyes away, 

 Or the lovely-looking insect will lure thee all astray ! 

 Beneath those gorgeous colours, that so very tempting look, 

 Alas, alas, for thee, poor fish ! there lurks a deadly hook. 



Go, whistle to the wild, wild wind; forbid the breeze to blow; 

 Or speak to yon rushing river, and tell it not to flow ! 

 Each, each would heed the mandate, and as readily obey, 

 Well-nigh as soon as you could stop the wilful on their way. 



What means this strange commotion ? See ! there, there the 



salmon springs, 



As buoyant from the water, as though borne on eagle's wings,. 

 Down, down again he dashes into the swift-whirling stream, 

 His scales of glistening silver, like lightning-flashes gleam ! 



