THE OLD FISHER.

[ZaunköniG]

THE OLD FISHER.

Thou art a fisher of Mazorbo; lone,
Drifting a usual shadow o'er the sea,
With thine old boat, that like a barkless tree
Creaks in the wind, a pitchless dreary moan ;

And there thy life and all thy thoughts have flown,
Pouncing on crabs in shallows, till thy knee
Crooked as theirs, now halts unsteadily,
Going about to move the anchor-stone :

And when the waves roll inward from the east,
Takest thy net, and for some few sardines
Toil'st, in the morning's wild and chilly ray;

Then dost thou go to where yon bell-tower leans,
And in the sunshine sit, the poor man's feast,
Else abstinent in thy poverty, all the day.