top of page
the poetry of fly fishing
from childe harold's pilgrimage
lord byron
as presented in
The Deerslayeer
James Fenimore Cooper
"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore.
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal"
bottom of page