THE GOLD-FISH AND THE SILVER-FISH a Poem
THE GOLD-FISH AND THE SILVER-FISH
BY a little crystal brook
Winding thro' a woody nook,
Where the rippled current dashes
'Neath the elm-trees and the ashes,
Oft I ramble to explore
The green borders of the shore.
There a beach of gleamy sand
Fringes the rare fairy-laud,—
Sand as white as virgin snow,
With the color'd shells aglow ;
There the drooping branches meet
In that Eden-like retreat,
There the climbing grape-vine weaves
Garlands with its emerald leaves.
There the water-lilies float,
Drifting each a crystal boat,
Murmuring honey-bees glance by,
And the gorgeous butterfly.
All the scenes beyond compare,
All the sweetest sounds of air,
Glorify this blissful spot,
With enchantments fill the grot.
In the shadow, in the gleam
Of the pure transparent stream,
See, the yellow gold-fish glide,
Sporting with the amber tide,
Skimming near the riv'let's face,
Wheeling, darting in the race,
Now like nuggets of red ore
Sparkling o'er the sandy floor ;
Lovely ever as the dyes
Mingled in the opal skies.
See, too, silver-fishes skim
As with fluttering fins they swim,
Pearly-white as quivering light
Of tbe moonbeams of the night.
In a parlor's gilded room,
Rich with roses and perfume,
Where the porcelain vases shine
Ruby-red, as flll'd with wine;
Where the sculptur'd marbles stand
Statuesque on every hand;
Where the velvet couches show,
Where the silken curtains flow;
Where the works of masters old
Fascinate in frames of gold;
See in prismy globes of glass
Now the circling fishes pass,—
"Pis that gold and silver school
Captives from the fairy pool,
Kidnapp'd from the forest dell,
Prison'd in the glassy cell.
McLellan, Isaac. Poems of the Rod and Gun. New York: Henry Thorpe, 1886.
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