Chapter XL: Book V: The Bait Is Seized

_They sat, gazing down the slope of the little vale. She was turning idly the pages of the book, and she read to him--

“Lovely all times she lies, lovely to-night!--
Only, methinks, some loss of habit’s power
Befalls me wandering through this upland dim.
Once pass’d I blindfold here, at any hour;
Now seldom come I, since I came with him.”

“It was here we first read the poem,” he said. “Every spot brings back some line of it.”

“Even the old oak-tree where we used to sit,” she smiled--

“Hear it, O Thyrsis, still our tree is there!”_