The Valley Virginian. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1865-1895, 1878-12-19
WHEN WENT FISHING WITH BAD.

EY WILLIE WALTON.
When was q boy-I'm an old man now;
Look at the lines across my brow;
Old time has furrowed them there;
My back is bent and my eyes are dim;
He has placed his finger on every limb.
And pulled out most of my hair,
But iflfe has reached December
I'm not too old to RENE mber
When went fishing with dad
We would each OF us shoulder our part OF the ioat
And ioyfully start along the road;
But dads was the heaviest share;
Out ofthe village about mile,
Over meadow across stie;
And then we were almost there.
Dear old brook, can see it still;
The messy bank and the old gray mill
Where went fishing with dad
We would wonder about for little space
To find the coolest, shadiest place,
Before we went to work,
Then dad would a, range his rod and line,
And tell me just how to manage mine
When the fish began to jerk.
If only could feel as used to then;
II only the days could come back again.
When went fishing with dad.
Then seated ourselves on the bank to wait,
And see if the fish would bite.
Sometimes they would only take alook.
As if they thought there might be hook,
But couldn't be certain quite.
There was one old perch used to think
Would always look at the line and wink
When went fishing with dad.
And so we fshed till the sun was high.
And the morning hours had all &c ne by.
And the village clock struck one.
81 am hungry, jim" then dad would say;
Lets give the fishes chance to play
Until the lunch is done.'
Oh! nothing has ever tasted SO sweet
AS the big san witches used to eat
When went fishing with dad.
Then dad and would lie on the grass,
And wait Cor the heat of the day to pass;
How happy used to feel!
And what wonderful stories he would tell
To the eager boy that he loved so we'll
After our midday meal!
And how I would nestle close to his side,
To hear Of the world so big and wide,
When went fishing with dad.
For eagerly listened to every word;
And then among men of whom heard
HOW longed to play a part!
What wonderful dreams of the future came,
What visions Of wealth and honored name.
To fill my boyish heart!
There is no dream like the old dream.
There is no stream like the old stream.
Where l went i.hing with dad.
Then back again to our sport we'd go,
And fish till the sunsets crimson glow
Lit up 10y the dying day;
Then dad would call to me: "Jiu. we'll stop;
The basket is full to the very top;
Its time we were on our way
There are no ways like old ways,
There no days like the old days,
When went fishing with dad.
Then we took our way through the meadow land
And clung so tight to his wrinkled hand,
AS happy as could be-
And when the old house came In sight,
The smile on his old face grew so bright
AS he looked down on me;
And no one smiles as he used to smile,
And oh !! it seems such a long, long while
Since went fishing with dad.
It is way, way back in the weary years,
That with aching heart and falling tears
watched dad go away.
His aged head lay on my breast
When the angels called him home to rest
He was too old to stay.
And dug grave meath the very sod
That my boysh feet so often trod
When went fishing with da O.
The world has given me wealth and fame.
Fulfilled my dreams of an honored name,
And now am weak and old
The land is mine wherever lock;
I can catch my fish with silver hook
But my days are almost told;
Uncheered by the love Of child Or WIFE
would spend the end OF lonely life,
Where l went fishing with dad.
Ny limbs are weary, my eyes are dim;
shall tell them to lay me close by him
WheneverI come to die;
And side by side it will be my wish.
That there by the stream where we used to fish,
They will let the old man lie.
Close TO him would like to be,
Buried beneath the DID, old tree,
Where sat and fished with dad