THE SONG OF THE BASS 



To many bards are many lays. 



Without dispute or doubt ; 

 And some the lordly salmon praise. 



And some the lusty trout. 



Yet in discourtesy to none, 



With due respect to all, 

 When hotly beats the August sun, 



And city pleasures pall, 

 The Bass, in river, bay, or sound, 

 '> My loyal muse still hymns, 

 Inch for inch and pound for pound, 



The gamest jish that swims. 



ALICE CALHOUN HAINE8 



