THE SPECKLED TROUT

THE SPECKLED TROUT

With rod and line I took my wayThat led me through the gossip trees,Where all the forest was aswayWith hurry of the running breeze.I took my hat off to a flowerThat nodded welcome as I passed;And, pelted by a morning shower,Unto its heart a bee held fast.A head of gold one great weed tossed,And leaned to look when I went by;And where the brook the roadway crossedThe daisy kept on me its eye.And when I stooped to bathe my face,And seat me at a great tree’s foot,I heard the stream say, “Mark the place:And undermine it rock and root.”And o’er the whirling water thereA dragonfly its shuttle plied,Where wild a fern let down its hair,And leaned to see the water’s pride—A speckled trout. The spotted elf,Whom I had come so far to see,Stretched out above a rocky shelf,A shadow sleeping mockingly.* * * * *And I have sat here half the dayRegarding it. It has not stirred.I heard the running water say—“He does not know the magic word.“The word that changes everything,And brings all Nature to his hand:That makes of this great trout a king,And opes the way to Faeryland.”The BellmanMadison Cawein

With rod and line I took my wayThat led me through the gossip trees,Where all the forest was aswayWith hurry of the running breeze.I took my hat off to a flowerThat nodded welcome as I passed;And, pelted by a morning shower,Unto its heart a bee held fast.A head of gold one great weed tossed,And leaned to look when I went by;And where the brook the roadway crossedThe daisy kept on me its eye.And when I stooped to bathe my face,And seat me at a great tree’s foot,I heard the stream say, “Mark the place:And undermine it rock and root.”And o’er the whirling water thereA dragonfly its shuttle plied,Where wild a fern let down its hair,And leaned to see the water’s pride—A speckled trout. The spotted elf,Whom I had come so far to see,Stretched out above a rocky shelf,A shadow sleeping mockingly.* * * * *And I have sat here half the dayRegarding it. It has not stirred.I heard the running water say—“He does not know the magic word.“The word that changes everything,And brings all Nature to his hand:That makes of this great trout a king,And opes the way to Faeryland.”The BellmanMadison Cawein

With rod and line I took my wayThat led me through the gossip trees,Where all the forest was aswayWith hurry of the running breeze.

With rod and line I took my way

That led me through the gossip trees,

Where all the forest was asway

With hurry of the running breeze.

I took my hat off to a flowerThat nodded welcome as I passed;And, pelted by a morning shower,Unto its heart a bee held fast.

I took my hat off to a flower

That nodded welcome as I passed;

And, pelted by a morning shower,

Unto its heart a bee held fast.

A head of gold one great weed tossed,And leaned to look when I went by;And where the brook the roadway crossedThe daisy kept on me its eye.

A head of gold one great weed tossed,

And leaned to look when I went by;

And where the brook the roadway crossed

The daisy kept on me its eye.

And when I stooped to bathe my face,And seat me at a great tree’s foot,I heard the stream say, “Mark the place:And undermine it rock and root.”

And when I stooped to bathe my face,

And seat me at a great tree’s foot,

I heard the stream say, “Mark the place:

And undermine it rock and root.”

And o’er the whirling water thereA dragonfly its shuttle plied,Where wild a fern let down its hair,And leaned to see the water’s pride—

And o’er the whirling water there

A dragonfly its shuttle plied,

Where wild a fern let down its hair,

And leaned to see the water’s pride—

A speckled trout. The spotted elf,Whom I had come so far to see,Stretched out above a rocky shelf,A shadow sleeping mockingly.

A speckled trout. The spotted elf,

Whom I had come so far to see,

Stretched out above a rocky shelf,

A shadow sleeping mockingly.

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

And I have sat here half the dayRegarding it. It has not stirred.I heard the running water say—“He does not know the magic word.

And I have sat here half the day

Regarding it. It has not stirred.

I heard the running water say—

“He does not know the magic word.

“The word that changes everything,And brings all Nature to his hand:That makes of this great trout a king,And opes the way to Faeryland.”

“The word that changes everything,

And brings all Nature to his hand:

That makes of this great trout a king,

And opes the way to Faeryland.”

The BellmanMadison Cawein


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