human
And first hear this: God has been good to me; you must not think That I despair. There is a quiet time Like evening in my soul. I have no heart, For cruel Herbert killed it long ago, And death strides on. Sit, then, and give your mind To listen, and your eyes to look at me. Look at my face, Laurance, how white it is; Look at my hand,--my beauty is all gone. And Laurance lifted up his eyes; he looked, But answered, from their deeps that held no doubt, Far otherwise than she had willed,--they said,
gpt
Lovelier than ever.