An Angler's Rambles and Angling Songs

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Edmonston & Douglas, 1866 - Fishing - 410 pages

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Page 74 - Its wearied line reposes. No birr ! no whirr ! the salmon's ours, The noble fish — the thumper : Strike through his gill the ready gaff, And bending homewards, we shall quaff Another glorious bumper ! Hark to the music of the reel ! We listen with devotion ; There's something in that circling wheel That wakes the heart's emotion !
Page 73 - But now he turns ! keep down ahead, And lead him as a child is led, And land him at your leisure. Hark to the music of the reel! 'Tis welcome, it is glorious ; It wanders through the winding wheel, Returning and victorious.
Page 296 - An' ither waters tak' the lead ; 0' Hieland streams we covet nane, But gie to us the bonnie Tweed! An' gie to us the cheerfu' burn That steals into its valley fair — The streamlets that at ilka turn Sae saftly meet an' mingle there. The lanesome Tala and the Lyne, An' Manor wi' its mountain rills, An' Etterick, whose waters twine Wi' Yarrow, frae the forest hills; An Gala, too, an' Teviot bright, An' mony a stream o' playfu' speed : Their kindred valleys a' unite Amang the braes o
Page 402 - Sorrow, sorrow, speed away To our angler's quiet mound, With the old pilgrim, twilight grey, Enter thou on the holy ground ; There he sleeps, whose heart was twined With wild stream and wandering burn, Wooer of the western wind ! Watcher of the April morn...
Page 107 - There captive to her will, Yet, 'mid our fetters free, We seek by singing rill The broad and shady tree, And lisp our lay To flower and fay, Or mock the linnet's glee.
Page 107 - THE ANGLER'S VINDICATION Say not our hands are cruel, What deeds provoke the blame? Content our golden jewel, No blemish on our name: Creation's lords, We need no swords To win a withering fame. Say not in gore and guile We waste the...
Page 294 - Wind or calm at our trysting-tree ? Sing, sweet thrushes, forth and sing, Wile us with a merry glee ; To the flowery haunts of spring — To the angler's trysting-tree. Tell, sweet thrushes, tell to me, Are there flowers 'neath our willow tree, Spring and flowers at the trysting-tree ? HUGH CLARK. "HEONE." 1881, a volume of
Page 297 - Below the bields o' bonnie Tweed. Frae Holylee to Clovenford, A chancier bit ye canna hae; So gin ye tak' an angler's word, Ye'd through the whins an' ower the brae, An' work awa
Page 73 - A birr ! a whirr ! a salmon's on, A goodly fish ! a thumper ! Bring up, bring up the ready gaff, And if we land him, we shall quaff Another glorious bumper ! Hark ! 'tis the music of the reel, The strong, the quick, the steady ; The line darts from the active wheel, Have all things right and ready.

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