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Come! Let's go out and cast a fly ! | |
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By E. A. Brininstool
Come on, old sport, the day is fine!
The lure of Spring is in the air; The atmosphere is like rare wine,
The canyon stream is calling there!
Just lock your desk and drop the key,
Don't stop to argue or reply;
Don your old duds and come with me,
And let's go out and cast a fly I
Come on! I know a shelving stream
Where eddying ripples swiftly flow; A paradise—an angler's dream—
Come, hurry up, old man; let's go! I hear the murmuring waters call
To me as they go rushing by; Just drop your worries, one and all,
And let's go out and cast a fly!
I know a pool, rock-rimmed and deep,
In mountain solitudes secure,
Where speckled beauties wait to leap
And nab the wary angler's lure.
Let's quit the everlasting grind,
For fame and fortune—you and I, And leave our business cares behind,
And let's go out and cast a fly I
I seem to smell the odor sweet
Which haunts the spruce, the pine and fir. Far from the busy, bustling street,
With all its everlasting stir.
The rough, steep canyon walls we'll scale,
And to our favored lair we'll hie!
Come on, old scout! Let's hit the trail!
Let's get out there and cast a fly!
Can't get away? Oh, gosh! Break loose!
Are you so fond of dollars then? That is a mighty poor excuse—
Be different from other men I
Dame Nature's calling; to us there—
Suppose a dollar does slip by?
Life's pleasures are for us to share—
Come! Let's go out and cast a fly !
Hunter-Trader-Trapper. October: 1921,
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