My Old Fishing Boat

"My old boat rests on the shore,

By the river's sedgy brink,

Where the meadow grass bends o'er,

And the cattle come to drink;

'Tis a rusty, batter'd boat,

Boat without master sail,

And it never again may float,

In dead calm or in gale;

For its timbers and ribs are rent,

Shiver'd and crack'd and bent,

And the paint has faded away,

From its sides this many a-day;

Sides gaping in every seam,

Wide open to the stream.

 

And yet a brave boat wast thou!

When I launch'd you long ago,

When thy shapely, sharpen'd prow,

Cleaved the waters like a plow;

Gay then each painted side,

With umber and green and white,

My triumph and my pride,

My glory, my heart's delight!

Was ever a joy in the past,

Like mine when first arose,

The flag at the head of the mast,

A pennon of purple and rose;

When first thy snowy sail,

I gave to the riotous breeze,

And steer'd from this river-vale,

Straight out to the open seas!"

 

- Isaac McLellan, My Old Fishing Boat

 

 

Capture and edit by Orchid Arado

 

 

Photo Locale, Remembering IASWAS (scenery change):

maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Pryde/42/129/24

Done