" 'Ah, my heart! her eyes and sheHave taught thee new astrology.Howe'er Love's native hours were set,Whatever starry synod met,'Tis in the mercy of her eye,If poor Love shall live or die.'CRASHAW: Love's Horoscope.On an early winter afternoon, clear but not cold, when the vegetable world was a weird multitude of skeletons through whose ribs the sun shone freely, a gleaming landau came to a pause on the crest of a hill in Wessex. The spot was where the old Melchester Road, which the carriage had hitherto followed, was joined by a drive that led round into a park at no great distance off. "