Give it me." Before her playfully imperative injunction was fairly spoken, Richard had glanced at the document and discovered a Griffin between two Wheatsheaves: his crest in silver: and below--O wonderment immense! his own handwriting! He handed it to her.

She took it, and put it in her bosom.
Who would have thought, that, where all else perished, Odes, Idyls, Lines, Stanzas, this one Sonnet to the stars should be miraculously reserved for such a starry fate--passing beatitude! As they walked silently across the meadow, Richard strove to remember the hour and the mood of mind in which he had composed the notable production.

The stars were invoked, as seeing and foreseeing all, to tell him where then his love reclined, and so forth; Hesper was complacent enough to do so, and described her in a couplet-- "Through sunset's amber see me shining fair, As her blue eyes shine through her golden hair." And surely no words could be more prophetic.

Here were two blue eyes and golden hair; and by some strange chance, that appeared like the working of a divine finger, she had become the possessor of the prophecy, she that was to fulfil it! The youth was too charged with emotion to speak.
Doubtless the damsel had less to think of, or had some trifling burden on her conscience, for she seemed to grow embarrassed.

At last she drew up her chin to look at her companion under the nodding brim of her hat (and the action gave her a charmingly freakish air), crying, "But where are you going to?
You are wet through.