The Fisher’s Boy

The Fisher's Boy -Low tide

The Fisher’s Boy

The Fisher's Boy
by Henry David Thoreau
The Fisher's Boy -Low tide

My life is like a stroll upon the beach,
⁠As near the ocean's edge as I can go;
My tardy steps its waves sometimes o'erreach,
⁠Sometimes I stay to let them overflow.

My sole employment 'tis, and scrupulous care,
⁠To place my gains beyond the reach of tides,
Each smoother pebble, and each shell more rare,
⁠Which Ocean kindly to my hand confides.

I have but few companions on the shore:
⁠They scorn the strand who sail upon the sea;
Yet oft I think the ocean they've sailed o'er
⁠Is deeper known upon the strand to me.

The middle sea contains no crimson dulse,
⁠Its deeper waves cast up no pearls to view;
Along the shore my hand is on its pulse,
⁠And I converse with many a shipwrecked crew.

About the poem

"The Fisher's Boy" is published in An American Anthology 1787–1900.  1900, 
Edmund Clarence Stedman ed. (1833–1908) 

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