A boy and his dad on a fishing trip
there is a glorious fellowship!
father and son and the open sky
and the white clouds lazily drifting by,
and the laughing stream as it runs along
with the clicking reel like a martial song,
and the father teaching the youngster gay
how to land a fish in the sportsman's way.
I fancy I hear them talking there
in an open boat and the speech is fair,
and the boy is learning the ways of man
from the finest man in his youthful hen,
kings to the youngster can not compare
with the gentle father who's with him there.
and the greatest mind of the human race
not for no minute could take his place.
Which is happier man or boy?
the soul of the father is steeped in joy,
for he's finding out to his heart's delight
that his son is fit for the future fight.
He is learning the glorious depths of him
and the thoughts he thinks and his every whim,
and he shall discover when night comes on
how close he has grown to his little son,
a boy and his dad on a fishing trip
oh I envy then, as I see them there
under the sky in the open air,
for out of the old old long ago
came the summer days that I used to know,
when I learned life's truths from my father's lips
as I shared the joy of his fishing trip
builders of life's companionship!
