Angling sketches . promise, given in the following verse r And I, when to breathe is a labour, and joyForgets me, and life is no longer the boy,On the labouring staff, and the tremorous knee,^Yill wander, bright river, to thee ! Life is always the boy when one is besidethe Tweed. Times change, and we change, fo:the worse. But the river changes little. Still hecourses through the keen and narrow rocks be-neath the bridge of Yair. From Yair, which hills so closely bind,Scarce can the Tweed his passage much he fret, and chafe, and all his eddying currents boil. Still the wat
Angling sketches . promise, given in the following verse r And I, when to breathe is a labour, and joyForgets me, and life is no longer the boy,On the labouring staff, and the tremorous knee,^Yill wander, bright river, to thee ! Life is always the boy when one is besidethe Tweed. Times change, and we change, fo:the worse. But the river changes little. Still hecourses through the keen and narrow rocks be-neath the bridge of Yair. From Yair, which hills so closely bind,Scarce can the Tweed his passage much he fret, and chafe, and all his eddying currents boil. Still the water loiters by the long boat-pool ofYair, as though loath to leave the drooping boughsof the elms. Still it courses with a deep edd\-through the Elm Wheel, and ripples underFernilea, where the author of the Flowers of theForest li\-ed in that now mouldering and rooflesshall, with the peaked turrets. Still Xeidpath isfair, Xeidpath of the unhappy maid, and still \\-emark the tin\- burn at Ashiesteil, how in November,. A TWEEDSIDE SKETCH 129 Murmuring hocirse, and frequent seen,Through bush and briar, no longer green,An angry brook, it sweeps the glade,Brawls over rock and wild foaming brown, with doubled speed,Hurries its waters to the Tweed. Still the old tower of Elibank is black and strongin ruin ; Elibank, the home of that Muckle MoudMeg, who made Harden after all a better bridethan he would have found in the hanging ash-treeof her father. These are unaltered, mainly, sinceScott saw them last, and little altered is thehomely house of Ashiesteil, where he had beenso happy. And we, too, feel but little changeamong those scenes of long ago, those best-beloved haunts of boyhood, where we have hadso many good days and bad, days of rising troutand success ; days of failure, and even of half-drowning. One cannot reproduce the charm of the strongriver in pool and stream, of the steep rich bankthat it rushes or lingers by, of the green andheathery hills beyond, or the bare
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Keywords: ., bookauthorla, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectfishing
