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Who sits beside her window Waiting to welcome him, 60 That comes so lothly toward her With his visage sick and dim.

He looked up, he looked down, In hope some comfort for to win: But bare and lothly were the walls.

Here he passed with her under the archway into a private room; and by the time he had deposited — so lothly — the precious burden upon a sofa, Bathsheba had opened her eyes.

Here he passed with her under the archway into a private room; and by the time he had deposited—so lothly—the precious burden upon a sofa, Bathsheba had opened her eyes.

Who least the public liberty could like, As lothly brook'd their flat servility.