Composed in the top of a cherry tree when the wind was blowing a
gale.
In fishing for men, I should judge from your looks
You've always had biters enough at your hooks.
And whenever you dipp'd your net in the tide
You had little need to spread it out wide.
To encircle so many you wish'd for no more
And like the old fishers sat down on the shore,
Casting all the worthless and bad ones away--
Preserving the good and the true to this day.
May the promising youth, I saw by your side
All blooming and beaming, your hope and your pride,
Be a pillar of state, so strong and so tall
As to make you rejoice, that you made such a haul.