lawn lay out upon
An overhanging bole and deftly swayed A
well-hooked fish which shone
In the pale lemon sunshine like a spurt
Of silver, bowed and damascened, and girt
With crimson spots and moons which waned and
played.
VIII
The fish hung circled for a moment, ringed And
bright; then flung itself out, a thin blade
Of spotted lightning, and its tail was winged With chipped
and sparkled sunshine. And the shade
Broke up and splintered into shafts of light Wheeling about
the fish, who churned the air
And made the fish-line hum, and bent the rod Almost
to snapping. Care
The young man took against the twigs, with slight,
Deft movements he kept fish and line in tight
Obedience to his will with every prod.
IX
He lay there, and the fish hung just beyond. He
seemed uncertain what more he should do.
He drew back, pulled the rod to correspond, Tossed it and caught
it; every time he threw,
He caught it nearer to the point. At last The fish
was near enough to touch. He paused.
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