Classic Poem

Good luck to your fishing!
And what have you caught?
Ah, would that my wishing
Were more than a thought!
Ah, would you had caught her,
Young Chloe, for me,—
Young Chloe, the daughter
Of Proteus, the sea!

She irks me, she irks me,
With blue of her eyes;
She irks me, she irks me,
With little drawn sighs;
She lures me with laughter,
She tempts me with tears;
And hope follows after,—
Hope only,—and fears!

Good luck to your fishing!
But would you had caught
That maid beyond wishing,
That maid beyond thought!
O cast the line deeper,
Deep—deep in the sea;
And catch her, and keep her,
Dan Cupid, for me!