AND ANGLING SONGS. 183 



III. 



Alas ! among morsels, the sweetest and rarest 

 That float down the streams of the brake, 



Deceits ever mingle, in colours the fairest, 



Capturing those capturing those who partake. 



IV. 



Tis thus in this bright world, at joys without measure 



Unheeding we ardently spring, 

 And forget that oft hid by the plumage of pleasure 



Lies a hook lies a hook in the wing. 



ST. RONAN'S CLUB. 



TnE year 1828, although not that of my introduction to Tweed 

 and Teviot (I had frequently troubled these rivers and some of 

 their tributaries before that period), is distinguished in my journal 

 as the one on which I became acquainted with the Ettrick Shep- 

 herd, a zealous angler as well as poet. About this time the vil- 

 lage of Innerleithen, on Tweedside, was selected as the theatre 

 of certain annual sports designated the St. Ronan's Games ; their 

 celebration, under that title, in the locality mentioned, being 

 intended as a token of respect to the matchless magician who had 

 established and made world-wide the fame of the great border 

 valley and its athletic ' indwellers.' To this centre of attraction 

 resorted many of the champions and aspirants, laurelled and 

 unlaurelled, among the gymnastic clubs in Scotland. The names 

 of those who distinguished themselves on its boards, as throwers 

 of the heavy and the light hammer, as putters of the stone and 

 cannon ball, as quoiters and runners and leapers, have the 



