She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. If I offered you half of my possessions, you'd doubtless wallop me on the jaw. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. 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.
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