THERE sat a happy fisherman Upon a river bank. Before him on the wind's wings Tall reeds swayed rank on rank. He cut him down a dry reed, He pierced it through and through, Then pinched one end together, And in the other blew. As if to life awaking, The reed to speak began. Was it the wind's voice calling Or was it voice of man? The reed sang slow and sadly— "Oh let me, let me be, Oh happy, happy fisherman, For you are killing me. "I was a comely maiden With life and joy aglow. In my step-mother's house I flowered long ago. "And many tears and bitter I innocently shed, And often in the darkness I wished that I was dead. "She had a son beloved Of her and none besides, Who frightened honest people And ravished girlish brides. "And once we went at evening Upon the steep high shore To look upon the sunset And hear the waters roar. "He gave me gold and silver— I would not take his gold. He asked me for my true love— My heart grew sad and cold. "Then in my soft young bosom His heavy knife-blade sank, And here my corpse he buried Upon the river bank. "Out of my stricken bosom A great dry reed uprose, And in it live my dolor, My pain and all my woes. "Oh happy, happy fisherman, Pray let me, let me be, Or have you never suffered And tasted misery?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST A PRAYER TO THE WIND by THOMAS CAREW SONNET: THE EVENING STAR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW DAFFODILS by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE ON THE SALE BY AUCTION OF KEATS' LOVE LETTERS by OSCAR WILDE |