Oh, you who've been a-fishing will indorse me when I say

That it always is the biggest fish you catch that gets away!

'Tis even so in other things—yes, in our greedy

eyes

The biggest boon is some elusive, never-captured

prize;

We angle for the honors and the sweets of human

life

Like fishermen we brave the seas that roll in end

less strife;

And then at last, when all is done and we are spent

I would not have it otherwise; 't is better there

should be

Much bigger fish than I have caught a-swimming

in the sea;

For now some worthier one than I may angle for

that game

May by his arts entice, entrap, and comprehend

the same;

Which, having done, perchance he'll bless the man who's proud to say

That the biggest fish he ever caught were those that got away.

THIRTY-NINE.

HAPLESS day! O wretched day!
I hoped you'd pass me by

Alas, the years have sneaked away
And all is changed but I!

Had I the power, I would remand

You to a gloom condign,

But here you've crept upon me and

I — I am thirty-nine!

Now, were I thirty-five, I could
Assume a flippant guise ;
Or, were I forty years, I should

Undoubtedly look wise;

For forty years are said to bring

Sedateness superfine ;

But thirty-nine don't mean a thing —

A bas with thirty-nine!

You healthy, hulking girls and boys,—
What makes you grow so fast?
Oh, I'll survive your lusty noise—
I'm tough and bound to last!
No, no - I'm old and withered too
I feel my powers decline,

(Yet none believes this can be true
Of one at thirty-nine).

And

you,

dear girl with velvet eyes,

I wonder what you mean Through all our keen anxieties

By keeping sweet sixteen.

With your dear love to warm my heart,

Wretch were I to repine;

I was but jesting at the start

I'm glad I'm thirty-nine !

So, little children, roar and race

As blithely as you can,

And, sweetheart, let your tender

Exalt the Day and Man;

grace

For then these factors (I 'll engage)

All subtly shall combine

To make both juvenile and sage

The one who's thirty-nine!

Yes, after all, I'm free to say
I would much rather be
Standing as I do stand to-day,
'Twixt devil and deep sea;

For though my face be dark with care
Or with a grimace shine,

Each haply falls unto my share,

For I am thirty-nine!

'Tis passing meet to make good cheer

And lord it like a king,

Since only once we catch the year

That does n't mean a thing.

O happy day! O gracious day!
I pledge thee in this wine -
Come, let us journey on our way

A year, good Thirty-Nine!

Sept. 2, 1889.

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