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Updated: May 16, 2025
That the empty hand the wreath encloses; Earth's cold winds but make the spirit brave; Knowing that the briars bear the roses, Golden flowers the waste deserted grave. In the cypress-shade her myrtle groweth; Much she loves, because she much hath borne; Love-led, through the darksome way she goeth On to meet him in the breaking morn. She can bear "
When the love-led man had ceased from his labours, Bathsheba came and looked him in the face. "Gabriel, will you stay on with me?" she said, smiling winningly, and not troubling to bring her lips quite together again at the end, because there was going to be another smile soon. "I will," said Gabriel. And she smiled on him again.
When the love-led man had ceased from his labours, Bathsheba came and looked him in the face. "Gabriel, will you stay on with me?" she, said, smiling winningly, and not troubling to bring her lips quite together again at the end, because there was going to be another smile soon. "I will." said Gabriel. And she smiled on him again.
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