Edgar Albert Guest

The Old, Old Story

I have no wish to rail at fate,
And vow that I’m unfairly treated;
I do not give vent to my hate
Because at times I am defeated.
Life has its ups and downs, I know,
But tell me why should people say
Whenever after fish I go:
‘You should have been here yesterday’?
 
It is my luck always to strike
A day when there is nothing doing,
When neither perch, nor bass, nor pike
My baited hooks will come a-wooing.
Must I a day late always be?
When not a nibble comes my way
Must someone always say to me:
‘We caught a bunch here yesterday’?
 
I am not prone to discontent,
Nor over-zealous now to climb;
If victory is not yet meant
For me I’ll calmly bide my time.
But I should like just once to go
Out fishing on some lake or bay
And not have someone mutter: ‘Oh,
You should have been here yesterday.’
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