“I want to go fishing ! somewhere on a stream
I want to give way to the longing to dream.
Away from the tumult of motor and mill.
I want to be carefree. I want to be still!
I’m weary of doing things; weary of words,
I want to one with the blossoms and birds.
I want to push off from the river-kissed shore
Alone with my dreams and my fancies once more.
I am wearying of reading the books on my shelf
I want to be quiet and think for myself.
I’ve a feeling sometimes of huge things crushing me
And I want to go somewhere and set my soul free.
I want to go fishing! to sit all alone
Where only the purest of breezes are blown;
To visit in worlds that are different from ours,
The world of the insects, the song birds, the flowers;
To question the skies and the waters below
And be the glad youth that I was long ago.”