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. " "I have often conjured up some frightful vision of the dead," murmured the knight, "but I never dreamed of an interview with the living. ‘Oh, I don’t wish to marry you. His brain reeled. Wood the best of wives.
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