THE SONG OF THE BASS 



To many men are many minds 



(Who would dispute or blame?), 

 And many boasts of many kinds, 



Yet this my modest claim: 

 In rocky lair the Bass is found, 



Where the swirling eddy dims, 

 Inch for inch and pound for pound, 



The gamest flsh that swims! 



A doughty knight in armor bright, 



No gage will he let pass. 

 The artful fly, the helgramite, 



Young frog from swampy grass, 

 He 7J gorge ; then, turning, dare his foe 



To equal fight and free, 

 Or salt, or fresh, while waters flow, 



No bolder fish than he. 



He never skulks, he never sulks, 



Above, below the flood, 

 With valiant lunge and prismy plunge, 



His challenge he V/ make good, 

 Till every cunning trick is tried, 



Ye gods ! we 7? haul him in, 

 By gaff and net snatched from the tide, 



A vanquished paladin ! 



The night-moth and the dragon-fly 

 No more need fear his leap; 



No more on balanced fin he '# lie 

 Guarding his castle-keep. 

 xxiv 



