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Title: Up And Down Old Clark's Run
Author: George W. Doneghy [
More Titles by Doneghy]
Bright visions of childhood! How dear to the heart
Are the scenes which from memory can never depart!
Undimmed by the sorrows, the grief and the tears
Which have shadowed the pathway of life's later years,
They come like the rainbow which follows the storm--
On remembrance reflected with colors as warm--
And in dreams of delight they picture the fun
That we had long ago when we fished in Clark's Run!
With a can full of worms and a heart full of joy,
Up and down the old stream, a bare-footed boy,
A truant from school, my footsteps would stray
To the deep-shaded pool, or where ripples at play,
As they flowed over beds of smooth-polished stones,
Sang a lullaby sweet in soft undertones!
From the dawn of the day to the set of the sun
What pleasures we've had when we fished in Clark's Run!
Equipped with a pole, a hook and a line,
And stowed in some pocket a long piece of twine
On which you could string, if you seined for a week,
Every fish that was found up and down the old creek--
With one "gallus" to pants that were rolled to the knee,
And holes in our hats through which you could see
Where the sunbeams had turned the light hair to dun--
We hied us away to the banks of Clark's Run!
There we baited the hook and threw out the line,
And watched the cork disappear with a rapture divine!
And felt just as proud as a prince or a king
When we landed high up, with a jerk and a swing,
A fish that would measure two inches or more,
Then anchored him fast with the string to the shore!
But unnumbered now are the silver strands spun
With the hair of the head since we fished in Clark's Run!
O who can there be with a heart in his breast
Would forget the dear scenes which so lovingly rest
In the bosom when life has grown old and cold,
And feel no delight when such pictures unfold,
And would blot out forever from memory's page
The records of childhood which solace old age?
'Till time ends for me and with life I have done,
I'll dream of the days when we fished in Clark's Run!
[The end]
George W. Doneghy's poem: Up And Down Old Clark's Run
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