other.

The hopefulness of youth, its rosy visions, its smiling dreams, all
sparkled in his blight blue eye, in the glad, free, ringing joyance of
his deep rich voice, his cloudless smiles. And oh, who is there can
resist the witchery of life's young hopes, who does not feel the warm
blood run quicker through his veins, and bid his heart throb even as it
hath throbbed in former days, and the gray hues of life melt away before
the rosy glow of youth, even as the calm cold aspect of waning night is
lost in the warmth and loveliness of the infant morn? And what was the
magic acting on the enthusiast himself, that all traces of gloom and
pensive thought were banished from his brow, that the full tide of
poetry within his soul seemed thrilling on his lip, breathing in his
simplest word, entrancing his whole being in joy? Scarce could he
himself have defined its cause, such a multitude of strong emotions were
busy at his heart. He saw not the dangers overhanging the path of the
Bruce, he only saw and only felt him as his sovereign, as his brother,
his friend, destined to be all that he had hoped, prayed, and believed
he would be; willing to accept and return the affection he had so long
felt, and give him that friendship and confidence for which he had
yearned in vain so long. He saw his country free, independent,
unshackled, glorious as of old; and there was a light and lovely being
mingling in these stirring visions--when Scotland was free, what
happiness would not be his own! Agnes, who flitted before him in that
gay scene, the loveliest, dearest object there, clinging to him in her
timidity, shrinking from the gaze of the warriors around, respectful as
it was, feeling that all was strange, all save him to whom her young
heart was vowed--if such exclusiveness was dear to him, if it were bliss
to him to feel that, save her young brother, he alone had claim upon her
notice and her smile, oh! what would it be when she indeed was all, all