Page:The Bothie of Toper-na-fuosich - Clough (1848).pdf/50

 Estimate, and of a step (such a step!) in the dark to be taken, Terror nameless and ill understood of deserting her station,— Daily heavier, heavier upon her pressed the sorrow, Daily distincter, distincter within her arose the conviction, He was too high, too perfect, and she so unfit, so unworthy, (Ah me! Philip, that ever a word such as that should be written!) It would not do for him; nor for her; she also was something, Not much indeed and different, yet not to be lightly extinguished. Should he—he have a wife beneath him? herself be An inferior there where only equality can be? It would do neither for him, nor for her. Alas for Philip! Many were tears and great was perplexity. Nor had availed then All his prayer and all his device. But much was spoken Now, between Adam and Elspie; companions were they hourly: Much by Elspie to Adam, enquiring, anxiously seeking, From his experience seeking impartial accurate statement What it was to do this or do that, go hither or thither, How in the after life would seem what now seeming certain Might so soon be reversed; in her quest and obscure exploring Still from that quiet orb soliciting light to her footsteps; Much by Elspie to Adam enquiring, eagerly seeking: Much by Adam to Elspie, informing, reassuring, Much that was sweet to Elspie, by Adam heedfully speaking, Quietly, indirectly, in general terms, of Philip, Gravely, but indirectly, not as incognizant wholly, But as suspending until she should seek it, direct intimation; Much that was sweet in her heart of what he was and would be, Much that was strength to her mind, confirming beliefs and insights Pure and unfaltering, but young and mute and timid for action; Much of relations of rich and poor, and true education. It was on Saturday eve, in the gorgeous bright October, Then when brackens are changed, and heather blooms are faded, And amid russet of heather and fern green trees are bonnie; Alders are green, and oaks; the rowan scarlet and yellow; One great glory of broad gold pieces appears the aspen, And the jewels of gold that were hung in the hair of the birch-tree, Pendulous, here and there, her coronet, necklace, and earrings, Cover her now, o'er and o'er; she is weary and scatters them from her. There, upon Saturday eve, in the gorgeous bright October,