O’ER sandy bar and rocky floor
That pave the bottom of the deep,
Where kelp and dulse and seaweeds flaunt
Their garlands where the currents sweep;
Where rove the haddock and the cod,
The sheepshead and the silvery bass,
The dark hake schools rejoice to feed
In pastures of the salty grass.
The fisher in his rocking boat
From reef to reef pursues his prey,
Now in abysses dark and deep,
And now in shoaling cove and bay,
But best the sport when night her veil
Of shadows o'er the ocean spreads,
And the red moon along the seas
Her glimmering effulgence sheds.
Then when the drowsy breezes fold
Their wings and swoon away in sleep,
When not a ruffling ripple curls
The motionless undimpled deep;
When drops the moon her golden bridge
Of light athwart the level main,
And heavenly constellations burn,
Stars flood the night with twinkling rain,—
'Tis then the fisher's toilsome trade
Is with abounding spoil repaid.
McLellan, Isaac. Poems of the Rod and Gun. New York: Henry Thorpe, 1886.
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