.OTk.MTk4MA

CHARLES E. CAPEN, EASTPORT, MAINE.

f

ROM out the green and silent deeps

Where lllany a weed-decked lllermaid sleeps, He lures the glistening, flnny hordes, The best Poseidon's store affords.

What kind so e'er his meshes flll, "All is good grist COllles to his lllill." His chiefest joy that slllaller catch, Sardinia's best would scarcely lllatch. Ye merry, hearty gods of eld, Who riot on Olympus held, Too soon ye lived nor knew the bliss Attendant on a dish like this. Nectar! Ambrosia! crumbs indeed To all who may on sardines feed! 0.' knowing well the dish sublJm.e You guard your secret for all time. Useless your care, in vain your ire; As once Prometheus stole your fire, Your food is taken by the man Whose strength lies in the words "I CAN!" Now lllortals all from east to west United rise to call him blest. His bounty broad as 'Quoddy Bay, IDs kindly heart as deep, they say.

C>

�