She has married some one he could not approve of, and gone right away. Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess.
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