Awhile life’s threshhold thou didst press with glee,
Then turned away; this life was not for thee!
A PISCATORIAL ECLOGUE.
VEL ISAACUS WALTON IN NOVAM SCALAM REDIVIVUS.
BY PETER VON GEIST.
Piscator. You are happily met, my fair young lady!
Discipula. A very good morrow to you, Mr. Piscator. You are early a-foot, with your rod and lines.
Piscator. A veteran of the angle will be stirring early; there is a brace of fish waiting for my hook on the other side of our lake. But you, my gentle maiden, have you come down to the beach to see the sun rise? and mayhap to pluck a rose with the dew on’t? I think you have found it; for I think I can see the rose on your cheek, and the dew in your eye. It is sweet to be up betimes in the morning, when the air and the new sunlight are as clear and calm as your own thoughts.
Discipula. It is even so, as you and I know right well. A pleasant sail to you; God send a dozen fish, and may you kill them merrily. But honest Mr. Piscator, do you go alone to-day?
Piscator. I think so to do; for you are to note, a companion of patience and sober demeanor, free from profane jests and scurrilous discourse, is worth gold, but is not so easy to be come at. And none other than such jumps with my humor.