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Young man, gather gold and gear...

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This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, it's rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
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Archives > Books and Poetry > Poetry > Carols of an Old Codger (1954) > Rhymes for Rusticity > Fisherfolk

Fisherfolk

Published by Susan on 2003/8/1 (2171 reads)
I like to look at fishermen...

I like to look at fishermen
      And oftentimes I wish
One would be lucky now and then
      And catch a little fish.
I watch them statuesquely stand,
      And at the water look;
But if they pull their float to land
      It's just to bait a hook.

I ponder the psychology
      That roots them in their place;
And wonder at the calm I see
      In every angler's face.
There is such patience in their eyes,
      Beside the river's brink;
And waiting for a bite or rise
      I do not think they think.

Or else they are just gentle men,
      Who love--they know not why,
Greeen grace of trees or water when
      It wimples to the sky . . .
Sweet simple souls! As vain I watch
      My heart to you is kind:
Most precious prize of all you catch,
      --Just Peace of Mind.

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