For his eye saw with hers, and followed hers;
Which colored all his objects—she was his life,
The ocean to the river of his thoughts,
Which terminated all.”
There was a subdued sorrow in his look, which touched me deeply. Does she love him? I thought, as I watched her bright and beaming glance, all untroubled by the thought of the morrow’s parting; or, can it be that she is heartless, the friend of my youth, whom I have loved, and still love so dearly? Methinks, if she have a heart, she cannot but be touched by a devotion so deep. Oh, true woman—
“In our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,”
Who can fathom the depths of thy soul? My sympathies from that night were with Melville, and I determined any influence I might have over Evelyn, should be exerted in favor of this, her true knight.
