"Give me thy hand... I'm glad to find thee here."
The Lover's Melancholy.
"Half light, half shade,
She stood, a sight to make an old man young."
The Gardener's Daughter.
UTTERLY worn out, both in mind and body, by hard reading and confinement, I determined to return to Heathfield forthwith, with "all my blushing honours thick upon me