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Updated: June 26, 2025
With death upon his heart inch by inch he fights it with laughs. I saw him yestermorn. His great eyes winked. They made a bet at me. He will outlast us yet, he swore, ten years. Brave fight! Shall I live to see it stop gasp the last quip fail on sunny lips? I peer into the years between. They hang among the mists. Aurora comes. It is a week. Sweet day-spring! NOHANT, October 11, 1839.
We found a party of soldiers gathered round it. They were listening. "They are human cries," said one: "More like the howling of a dog," replied another; and again they bent to catch the sound of regular distant moans, which issued from the precincts of the ruined city. "That, Clara," I said, "is the gate, that the street which yestermorn your father rode up."
"I dreamed," said Lady Mary, "that I went yestermorn to your castle, and I found it in the woods, with high walls, and a deep moat, and over the gateway was written: BE BOLD, BE BOLD. "But it is not so, nor it was not so," said Mr. Fox. "And when I came to the doorway over it was written: BE BOLD, BE BOLD, BUT NOT TOO BOLD. "It is not so, nor it was not so," said Mr. Fox.
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