Explore "The Rescue of the Princess Winsome" by Annie Fellows Johnston on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
_Room in Ogre's tower. Princess Winsome kneeling with arm / around Dog's neck._
Princess: / / _Art_ thou my brother? Can it be / That thou hast taken such shape? / Oh turn those sad eyes not on me! / There _must_ be some escape. / And yet our parents think us dead. / No doubt they weep this very hour, / For no one ever has escaped, / Ere this, the Ogre's power. / Oh cruel fate! We can but die! / Each moment seems a week. / _Is_ there no hope? Oh, Hero dear, / If thou couldst only speak! / But no! Within this tower room / We're captive, and despair / Must settle on us. 'Tis the doom / Of all dragged up yon winding stair.