Henry David Thoreau The Fisher's Boy 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 is, 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. _________________________________________________ Ê ñïèñêó àâòîðîâ Â êàþò-êîìïàíèþ