"Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. . . Fly! they shall knock me on the head—curse 'em!—before they shall touch you. " Sir Rowland looked bewildered with surprise. 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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