398 In the Haunts of Bream and Bass. 



Hear the woodpecker, rap-a-tap ! 

 See him with his cardinal's cap! 



And the querulous, leering jay, 

 How he clamors for a fray J 



Patiently I draw and cast, 

 Keenly expectant, till, at last, 



Comes a flash, down in the stream, 

 Never made by perch or bream, 



Then a mighty weight I feel, 

 Sings the line and whirs the reel ! 



v. 



Out of a giant tulip-tree, 



A great gay blossom falls on me ; 



Old gold and fire its petals are, 

 It flashes like a falling star. 



A big blue heron flying by 

 Looks at me with a greedy eye. 



I see a striped squirrel shoot 

 Into a hollow maple-root; 



A bumble-bee, with mail all rust, 



His thighs puffed out with anther-dust, 



Clasps a shrinking bloom about, 

 And draws her amber sweetness out. 



Bubble, bubble flows the stream, 

 Like an old tune through a dream ! 



A white-faced hornet hurtles by, 

 Lags a turquoise butterfly, 



One intent on prey and treasure, 

 One afloat on tides of pleasure! 



Sunshine arrows, swift and keen, 

 Pierce the maple's helmet green. 



