Classic Poem

I.

F AST ! fast! we have him fast,
A prime one by the gleam!
In the old Laird's shadowy cast
Above the Elshie stream;
'Tis a salmon plump and strong,
Newly run from the distant brine,
Newly run, newly run, — a right thundering one!
Tell him line.

II.

Away, he darts away,
Across the shining Tweed,
Nor art nor arm can stay
The noble creature's speed;
From our reel the swift line spins,
As he feels the galling scar,
And in vain, all in vain, shakes his lengthening chain
From afar

III.

To shore, slow draw to shore;
The light boat edges in,
While moves the cautious oar,
Like some sea-prowler's fin
In the creeks of an Indian isle;
Now the flowery bank we've gained,
And in hand, firm in hand, with our labouring wand,
Hold him chained.

IV.

See, see, in wild despair,
He seeks by fatal spring
To break the magic hair —
To fly the madd'ning string;
In vain, all in vain, his headlong plunge!
For the fatal die is cast;
O'er his eyelid soon death's glimmering swoon
Gathers fast.

V.

With quick revolving hand
The good line home we wind,
While obedient to our wand
The worn fish floats behind,
And the bright pebbled edge as he nears,
With our gaff-hook we check his retreat,
And see, here he lies, a weltering prize
At our feet!