AXD ANGLING SONG*. I I 



XXXII. 



No longer I essay to climb 



Your stormy heights, the hand of Time 



So sorely on me presses ; 

 But in the valleys now delight, 

 And watch the shadows of their might 



Dark'ning the green recesses. 



% 



XXXIII. 



The impulses which moved the boy 

 Have pass'd away. A graver joy 



Absorbs the heart's possession ; 

 Lull'd are the ecstasies of youth, 

 The glowing meteors of untruth 



Extinguish'd at discretion. 



. 



XXXIV. 



A wrestler with the winds no more ! 

 The visionary life is o'er, 



I steer to safer soundings, 

 And lower the anchor of my lot 

 Far down in some secluded spot 



Among your grand surroundings. 



xxxv. 



Oh ! valleys of the Grampian mould ! 

 Oh ! valleys red with virgin gold 



Rife with the angler's treasure ; 

 With poet's blessings doubly blest, 

 Your memory is a joy imprest, 



The emphasis of pleasure ! 



