'Unjoyous in the joyful throng.'
It is so charming to be so watched for, greeted with such delight! This Blanden! But one must console oneself--
'With careless hands they mete our doom,
Our woe or welfare, Hazard gives
Patroclus slumbers in the tomb.'
And still it is melancholy--
'Gleams my love in beauty's splendour,
Like the child of ocean's foam,
As his bride my mistress tender
Is a stranger taking home.'"
Eva would have been best pleased to hasten down the footpath to meet her beloved one, if she had been free to follow her heart's impulses.
Blanden came at last, and she only greeted him with a cordial shake of the hand. The scholar averted his gaze, and looked at the sea that was already playing in the ashen grey tints of dusk; no more verses arose to his mind. The Rath was full of amiability.