As the Sunflower turns on her god, when he sets,
The same look that she turned when he rose.
Again I saw the sun-flecked shadows on that far Welsh hill; and Robert for a moment again stood beside me, with his girl's face and his curls of gold. We were looking for fairy-rings. … But all that existed of the real Robert must long ago have suffered a sea-change into something rich and strange. … Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend. … ]
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