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I felt my sorrow ere it came, As storms are felt on high, Before a single cloud denote Their presence on the sky.

The heart has omens deep and true, That ask no aid from words; Like viewless music from the harp, With none to wake its chords.

Strange, subtle, are these mysteries, And linked with unknown powers, Marking mysterious links that bind The spirit world to ours.

wept long and bitterly; in vain did she try to gain some composure by reading and re-reading Sir Jasper's letter. True, there was not even an allusion to illness in any way; parts were even playful in their cheerfulness; still she felt assured that there was something