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ON ANGLING. |
1S& |
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From scenes so sad I turn the eye, To Ternoise placid streams ;
Where verdant skies, in richest hues, Dazzle with silv'ry gleams
Thy villages so picturesque, Thy maidens fair and gay ;
Thy rippling waters music yield That melt the soul away.
Farewell, sweet rivers, on thy banks
]\Jy fancy oft will roam, Even amid those pure delights,
Found in an English home. |
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LINES WRITTEN ON A PANE OF GLASS IN A COUNTRY INN,-DUMFRIESSHIRE.
I've seen the smiling primrose flower,
Among the braes of Yarrow ; I've felt the cutting winds of March,
Among- the hills of Barra ; I've wawler'd Scotland o'er and o'er,
From Beauley to the Reed, Rut the bonniest stream to throiv a line.
Is the bonny., bonny Tweed. |
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