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Updated: May 6, 2025
Sunset found me in the cove, not hidden by the leaves as before, but sitting in the boat astrand. She came. To-night her veil was of a golden yellow shading into dark green. A beautiful smile of recognition passed over her face when she saw me, and we greeted one another in the graceful fashion of the country.
"We have worked our claims, We have spent our gold, Our barks are astrand on the bars; We are battered and old, Yet at night we behold Outcroppings of gold in the stars. Where the rabbits play, Where the quail all day Pipe on the chaparral hill; A few more days, And the last of us lays His pick aside and is still. We are wreck and stray, We are cast away, Poor battered old hulks and spars!
As if she were a part of the refuse it had cast out, and left to corruption and decay, the girl we had followed strayed down to the river's brink, and stood in the midst of this night-picture, lonely and still, looking at the water. There were some boats and barges astrand in the mud, and these enabled us to come within a few yards of her without being seen. I then signed to Mr.
When Gudlief asks by whom he is to say the gifts are sent, the ancient chieftain answers, "Say they come from one who was a better friend of the Lady of Froda than of her brother Snorre of Helgafell." Wherefore it is conjectured that this man was Bjorn, the son of Astrand, Champion of Breidavik. After this, Madam, I hope I shall never hear you depreciate the constancy of men.
As the tall ship whose lofty prore Shall never stem the billows more Deserted by her gallant band, Amid the breakers lies astrand Soon his couch lay Rhoderick Dhu, And oft his fevered limbs he threw In toss abrupt, as when her sides Lie rocking in the advancing tides, That shake her frame with ceaseless beat, Yet can not heave her from her seat; O, how unlike her course on sea!
The great Mademoiselle had just attempted to show her independence: tired of not being married, with a curse on the greatness which kept her astrand, she had made up her mind to a love-match. "Guess it in four, guess it in ten, guess it in a hundred," wrote Madame de Sevigne to Madame de Coulanges: "you are not near it; well, then, you must be told.
It seems that Snorre had a beautiful sister, named Thured of Froda, with whom a certain gallant gentleman called Bjorn, the son of Astrand fell head and ears in love. Unfortunately, a rich rival appears in the field; and though she had given her heart to Bjorn, Snorre who, we have already seen, was a prudent man insisted upon her giving her hand to his rival.
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