Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. I took him out of the hands of death. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. I know less about this affair perhaps than you suppose.
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