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manwalksintobar · 1 year

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In Memoriam // Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Strong Son of God, immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we cannot prove;

Thine are these orbs of light and shade; Thou madest Life in man and brute; Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou madest man, he knows not why, He thinks he was not made to die; And thou hast made him: thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine, The highest, holiest manhood, thou. Our wills are ours, we know not how; Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day; They have their day and cease to be: They are but broken lights of thee, And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we cannot know; For knowledge is of things we see And yet we trust it comes from thee, A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell; That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as before,

But vaster. We are fools and slight; We mock thee when we do not fear: But help thy foolish ones to bear; Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem'd my sin in me; What seem'd my worth since I began; For merit lives from man to man, And not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed, Thy creature, whom I found so fair. I trust he lives in thee, and there I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive these wild and wandering cries, Confusions of a wasted youth; Forgive them where they fail in truth, And in thy wisdom make me wise.

I held it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.

But who shall so forecast the years And find in loss a gain to match? Or reach a hand thro' time to catch The far-off interest of tears?

Let Love clasp Grief lest both be drown'd,

Let darkness keep her raven gloss:

Ah, sweeter to be drunk with loss,

To dance with death, to beat the ground,

Than that the victor Hours should scorn

The long result of love, and boast,

`Behold the man that loved and lost,

But all he was is overworn.'

Old Yew, which graspest at the stones

That name the under-lying dead,

Thy fibres net the dreamless head,

Thy roots are wrapt about the bones.

The seasons bring the flower again,

And bring the firstling to the flock;

And in the dusk of thee, the clock

Beats out the little lives of men.

O, not for thee the glow, the bloom,

Who changest not in any gale,

Nor branding summer suns avail

To touch thy thousand years of gloom:

And gazing on thee, sullen tree,

Sick for thy stubborn hardihood,

I seem to fail from out my blood

And grow incorporate into thee.

III

O Sorrow, cruel fellowship,

O Priestess in the vaults of Death,

��O sweet and bitter in a breath,

What whispers from thy lying lip?

'The stars,' she whispers, `blindly run;

A web is wov'n across the sky;

From out waste places comes a cry,

And murmurs from the dying sun:

'And all the phantom, Nature, stands—

With all the music in her tone,

A hollow echo of my own,—

A hollow form with empty hands.'

And shall I take a thing so blind,

Embrace her as my natural good;

Or crush her, like a vice of blood,

Upon the threshold of the mind?

To Sleep I give my powers away;

My will is bondsman to the dark;

I sit within a helmless bark,

And with my heart I muse and say:

O heart, how fares it with thee now,

That thou should'st fail from thy desire,

Who scarcely darest to inquire,

'What is it makes me beat so low?'

Something it is which thou hast lost,

Some pleasure from thine early years.

Break, thou deep vase of chilling tears,

That grief hath shaken into frost!

Such clouds of nameless trouble cross

All night below the darken'd eyes;

With morning wakes the will, and cries,

'Thou shalt not be the fool of loss.'

I sometimes hold it half a sin

To put in words the grief I feel;

For words, like Nature, half reveal

And half conceal the Soul within.

But, for the unquiet heart and brain,

A use in measured language lies;

The sad mechanic exercise,

Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.

In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,

Like coarsest clothes against the cold:

But that large grief which these enfold

Is given in outline and no more.

One writes, that `Other friends remain,'

That `Loss is common to the race'—

And common is the commonplace,

And vacant chaff well meant for grain.

That loss is common would not make

My own less bitter, rather more:

Too common! Never morning wore

To evening, but some heart did break.

O father, wheresoe'er thou be,

Who pledgest now thy gallant son;

A shot, ere half thy draught be done,

Hath still'd the life that beat from thee.

O mother, praying God will save

Thy sailor,—while thy head is bow'd,

His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud

Drops in his vast and wandering grave.

Ye know no more than I who wrought

At that last hour to please him well;

Who mused on all I had to tell,

And something written, something thought;

Expecting still his advent home;

And ever met him on his way

With wishes, thinking, `here to-day,'

Or `here to-morrow will he come.'

O somewhere, meek, unconscious dove,

That sittest ranging golden hair;

And glad to find thyself so fair,

Poor child, that waitest for thy love!

For now her father's chimney glows

In expectation of a guest;

And thinking `this will please him best,'

She takes a riband or a rose;

For he will see them on to-night;

And with the thought her colour burns;

And, having left the glass, she turns

Once more to set a ringlet right;

And, even when she turn'd, the curse

Had fallen, and her future Lord

Was drown'd in passing thro' the ford,

Or kill'd in falling from his horse.

O what to her shall be the end?

And what to me remains of good?

To her, perpetual maidenhood,

And unto me no second friend.

VII

Dark house, by which once more I stand

Here in the long unlovely street,

Doors, where my heart was used to beat

So quickly, waiting for a hand,

A hand that can be clasp'd no more—

Behold me, for I cannot sleep,

And like a guilty thing I creep

At earliest morning to the door.

He is not here; but far away

The noise of life begins again,

And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain

On the bald street breaks the blank day.

VIII

A happy lover who has come

To look on her that loves him well,

Who 'lights and rings the gateway bell,

And learns her gone and far from home;

He saddens, all the magic light

Dies off at once from bower and hall,

And all the place is dark, and all

The chambers emptied of delight:

So find I every pleasant spot

In which we two were wont to meet,

The field, the chamber, and the street,

For all is dark where thou art not.

Yet as that other, wandering there

In those deserted walks, may find

A flower beat with rain and wind,

Which once she foster'd up with care;

So seems it in my deep regret,

O my forsaken heart, with thee

And this poor flower of poesy

Which little cared for fades not yet.

But since it pleased a vanish'd eye,

I go to plant it on his tomb,

That if it can it there may bloom,

Or, dying, there at least may die.

Fair ship, that from the Italian shore

Sailest the placid ocean-plains

With my lost Arthur's loved remains,

Spread thy full wings, and waft him o'er.

So draw him home to those that mourn

In vain; a favourable speed

Ruffle thy mirror'd mast, and lead

Thro' prosperous floods his holy urn.

All night no ruder air perplex

Thy sliding keel, till Phosphor, bright

As our pure love, thro' early light

Shall glimmer on the dewy decks.

Sphere all your lights around, above;

Sleep, gentle heavens, before the prow;

Sleep, gentle winds, as he sleeps now,

My friend, the brother of my love;

My Arthur, whom I shall not see

Till all my widow'd race be run;

Dear as the mother to the son,

More than my brothers are to me.

I hear the noise about thy keel;

I hear the bell struck in the night:

I see the cabin-window bright;

I see the sailor at the wheel.

Thou bring'st the sailor to his wife,

And travell'd men from foreign lands;

And letters unto trembling hands;

And, thy dark freight, a vanish'd life.

So bring him; we have idle dreams:

This look of quiet flatters thus

Our home-bred fancies. O to us,

The fools of habit, sweeter seems

To rest beneath the clover sod,

That takes the sunshine and the rains,

Or where the kneeling hamlet drains

The chalice of the grapes of God;

Than if with thee the roaring wells

Should gulf him fathom-deep in brine;

And hands so often clasp'd in mine,

Should toss with tangle and with shells.

Calm is the morn without a sound,

Calm as to suit a calmer grief,

And only thro' the faded leaf

The chestnut pattering to the ground:

Calm and deep peace on this high world,

And on these dews that drench the furze,

And all the silvery gossamers

That twinkle into green and gold:

Calm and still light on yon great plain

That sweeps with all its autumn bowers,

And crowded farms and lessening towers,

To mingle with the bounding main:

Calm and deep peace in this wide air,

These leaves that redden to the fall;

And in my heart, if calm at all,

If any calm, a calm despair:

Calm on the seas, and silver sleep,

And waves that sway themselves in rest,

And dead calm in that noble breast

Which heaves but with the heaving deep.

XII

Lo, as a dove when up she springs

To bear thro' Heaven a tale of woe,

Some dolorous message knit below

The wild pulsation of her wings;

Like her I go; I cannot stay;

I leave this mortal ark behind,

A weight of nerves without a mind,

And leave the cliffs, and haste away

O'er ocean-mirrors rounded large,

And reach the glow of southern skies,

And see the sails at distance rise,

And linger weeping on the marge,

And saying; `Comes he thus, my friend?

Is this the end of all my care?'

And circle moaning in the air:

'Is this the end? Is this the end?'

And forward dart again, and play

About the prow, and back return

To where the body sits, and learn

That I have been an hour away.

XIII

Tears of the widower, when he sees

A late-lost form that sleep reveals,

And moves his doubtful arms, and feels

Her place is empty, fall like these;

Which weep a loss for ever new,

A void where heart on heart reposed;

And, where warm hands have prest and closed,

Silence, till I be silent too.

Which weep the comrade of my choice,

An awful thought, a life removed,

The human-hearted man I loved,

A Spirit, not a breathing voice.

Come, Time, and teach me, many years,

I do not suffer in a dream;

For now so strange do these things seem,

Mine eyes have leisure for their tears;

My fancies time to rise on wing,

And glance about the approaching sails,

As tho' they brought but merchants' bales,

And not the burthen that they bring.

XIV

If one should bring me this report,

That thou hadst touch'd the land to-day,

And I went down unto the quay,

And found thee lying in the port;

And standing, muffled round with woe,

Should see thy passengers in rank

Come stepping lightly down the plank,

And beckoning unto those they know;

And if along with these should come

The man I held as half-divine;

Should strike a sudden hand in mine,

And ask a thousand things of home;

And I should tell him all my pain,

And how my life had droop'd of late,

And he should sorrow o'er my state

And marvel what possess'd my brain;

And I perceived no touch of change,

No hint of death in all his frame,

But found him all in all the same,

I should not feel it to be strange.

To-night the winds begin to rise

And roar from yonder dropping day:

The last red leaf is whirl'd away,

The rooks are blown about the skies;

The forest crack'd, the waters curl'd,

The cattle huddled on the lea;

And wildly dash'd on tower and tree

The sunbeam strikes along the world:

And but for fancies, which aver

That all thy motions gently pass

Athwart a plane of molten glass,

I scarce could brook the strain and stir

That makes the barren branches loud;

And but for fear it is not so,

The wild unrest that lives in woe

Would dote and pore on yonder cloud

That rises upward always higher,

And onward drags a labouring breast,

And topples round the dreary west,

A looming bastion fringed with fire.

XVI

What words are these have falle'n from me?

Can calm despair and wild unrest

Be tenants of a single breast,

Or sorrow such a changeling be?

Or cloth she only seem to take

The touch of change in calm or storm;

But knows no more of transient form

In her deep self, than some dead lake

That holds the shadow of a lark

Hung in the shadow of a heaven?

Or has the shock, so harshly given,

Confused me like the unhappy bark

That strikes by night a craggy shelf,

And staggers blindly ere she sink?

And stunn'd me from my power to think

And all my knowledge of myself;

And made me that delirious man

Whose fancy fuses old and new,

And flashes into false and true,

And mingles all without a plan?

XVII

Thou comest, much wept for: such a breeze

Compell'd thy canvas, and my prayer

Was as the whisper of an air

To breathe thee over lonely seas.

For I in spirit saw thee move

Thro' circles of the bounding sky,

Week after week: the days go by:

Come quick, thou bringest all I love.

Henceforth, wherever thou may'st roam,

My blessing, like a line of light,

Is on the waters day and night,

And like a beacon guards thee home.

So may whatever tempest mars

Mid-ocean, spare thee, sacred bark;

And balmy drops in summer dark

Slide from the bosom of the stars.

So kind an office hath been done,

Such precious relics brought by thee;

The dust of him I shall not see

Till all my widow'd race be run.

XVIII

'Tis well; 'tis something; we may stand

Where he in English earth is laid,

And from his ashes may be made

The violet of his native land.

'Tis little; but it looks in truth

As if the quiet bones were blest

Among familiar names to rest

And in the places of his youth.

Come then, pure hands, and bear the head

That sleeps or wears the mask of sleep,

And come, whatever loves to weep,

And hear the ritual of the dead.

Ah yet, ev'n yet, if this might be,

I, falling on his faithful heart,

Would breathing thro' his lips impart

The life that almost dies in me;

That dies not, but endures with pain,

And slowly forms the firmer mind,

Treasuring the look it cannot find,

The words that are not heard again.

XIX

The Danube to the Severn gave

The darken'd heart that beat no more;

They laid him by the pleasant shore,

And in the hearing of the wave.

There twice a day the Severn fills;

The salt sea-water passes by,

And hushes half the babbling Wye,

And makes a silence in the hills.

The Wye is hush'd nor moved along,

And hush'd my deepest grief of all,

When fill'd with tears that cannot fall,

I brim with sorrow drowning song.

The tide flows down, the wave again

Is vocal in its wooded walls;

My deeper anguish also falls,

And I can speak a little then.

The lesser griefs that may be said,

That breathe a thousand tender vows,

Are but as servants in a house

Where lies the master newly dead;

Who speak their feeling as it is,

And weep the fulness from the mind:

`It will be hard,' they say, `to find

Another service such as this.'

My lighter moods are like to these,

That out of words a comfort win;

But there are other griefs within,

And tears that at their fountain freeze;

For by the hearth the children sit

Cold in that atmosphere of Death,

And scarce endure to draw the breath,

Or like to noiseless phantoms flit;

But open converse is there none,

So much the vital spirits sink

To see the vacant chair, and think,

'How good! how kind! and he is gone.'

XXI

I sing to him that rests below,

And, since the grasses round me wave,

I take the grasses of the grave,

And make them pipes whereon to blow.

The traveller hears me now and then,

And sometimes harshly will he speak:

`This fellow would make weakness weak,

And melt the waxen hearts of men.'

Another answers, `Let him be,

He loves to make parade of pain

That with his piping he may gain

The praise that comes to constancy.'

A third is wroth: `Is this an hour

For private sorrow's barren song,

When more and more the people throng

The chairs and thrones of civil power?

'A time to sicken and to swoon,

When Science reaches forth her arms

To feel from world to world, and charms

Her secret from the latest moon?'

Behold, ye speak an idle thing:

Ye never knew the sacred dust:

I do but sing because I must,

And pipe but as the linnets sing:

And one is glad; her note is gay,

For now her little ones have ranged;

And one is sad; her note is changed,

Because her brood is stol'n away.

XXII

The path by which we twain did go,

Which led by tracts that pleased us well,

Thro' four sweet years arose and fell,

From flower to flower, from snow to snow:

And we with singing cheer'd the way,

And, crown'd with all the season lent,

From April on to April went,

And glad at heart from May to May:

But where the path we walk'd began

To slant the fifth autumnal slope,

As we descended following Hope,

There sat the Shadow fear'd of man;

Who broke our fair companionship,

And spread his mantle dark and cold,

And wrapt thee formless in the fold,

And dull'd the murmur on thy lip,

And bore thee where I could not see

Nor follow, tho' I walk in haste,

And think, that somewhere in the waste

The Shadow sits and waits for me.

XXIII

Now, sometimes in my sorrow shut,

Or breaking into song by fits,

Alone, alone, to where he sits,

The Shadow cloak'd from head to foot,

Who keeps the keys of all the creeds,

I wander, often falling lame,

And looking back to whence I came,

Or on to where the pathway leads;

And crying, How changed from where it ran

Thro' lands where not a leaf was dumb;

But all the lavish hills would hum

The murmur of a happy Pan:

When each by turns was guide to each,

And Fancy light from Fancy caught,

And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought

Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech;

And all we met was fair and good,

And all was good that Time could bring,

And all the secret of the Spring

Moved in the chambers of the blood;

And many an old philosophy

On Argive heights divinely sang,

And round us all the thicket rang

To many a flute of Arcady.

XXIV

And was the day of my delight

As pure and perfect as I say?

The very source and fount of Day

Is dash'd with wandering isles of night.

If all was good and fair we met,

This earth had been the Paradise

It never look'd to human eyes

Since our first Sun arose and set.

And is it that the haze of grief

Makes former gladness loom so great?

The lowness of the present state,

That sets the past in this relief?

Or that the past will always win

A glory from its being far;

And orb into the perfect star

We saw not, when we moved therein?

XXV

I know that this was Life,—the track

Whereon with equal feet we fared;

And then, as now, the day prepared

The daily burden for the back.

But this it was that made me move

As light as carrier-birds in air;

I loved the weight I had to bear,

Because it needed help of Love:

Nor could I weary, heart or limb,

When mighty Love would cleave in twain

The lading of a single pain,

And part it, giving half to him.

XXVI

Still onward winds the dreary way;

I with it; for I long to prove

No lapse of moons can canker Love,

Whatever fickle tongues may say.

And if that eye which watches guilt

And goodness, and hath power to see

Within the green the moulder'd tree,

And towers fall'n as soon as built—

Oh, if indeed that eye foresee

Or see (in Him is no before)

In more of life true life no more

And Love the indifference to be,

Then might I find, ere yet the morn

Breaks hither over Indian seas,

That Shadow waiting with the keys,

To shroud me from my proper scorn.

XXVII

I envy not in any moods

The captive void of noble rage,

The linnet born within the cage,

That never knew the summer woods:

I envy not the beast that takes

His license in the field of time,

Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,

To whom a conscience never wakes;

Nor, what may count itself as blest,

The heart that never plighted troth

But stagnates in the weeds of sloth;

Nor any want-begotten rest.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;

I feel it, when I sorrow most;

'Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all.

#poetry #Tennyson #love #grief #English poetry #heartbreak

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dietpitt · 7 years

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Alright. Here it is. Again, I’m sorry it took so long, but I wanted to take the opportunity to turn this into a fic I’ve actually been wanting to write for a long time, similar to that second ask.

Thank you so much for your patience. And your compliments! @forhonorandbooze you’re so sweet, and if that’s you in your icon you’re stunning as well!! @somethingscarlet13 , thank you for the opportunity to do this sort of premise.

I hope this doesn’t disappoint!

The first Saturday night of summer break, and here you are: exhausted on your bed after a long day of doing chores and housework. An old movie’s on tv- Kiss Me Deadly, a murder mystery thriller. It’s enjoyable enough, kitsch as it may be.

Suddenly the phone rings. Only after realizing the sound wasn’t coming from the film do you answer- it’s no surprise who’s on the other line.

“How’s it hangin’, hot stuff?” Stanley’s gruff voice asks, needing no introduction. “You up for some fun tonight?” His grin is audible through the receiver.

“Depends- you’re not planning on getting arrested, are you?”

“Sometimes fun ain’t got no plans. Thought we could wing it.”

It’s not like you have anything better to do. “Sure, sounds fine. Maybe the arcade? I heard they got some new pinball machines in. You driving?”

“You know it. Already there.” Just like that, he hangs up.

You take couple minutes to fix yourself up and grab a jacket before heading outside; you’re one step onto your porch before Stan’s car pulls around the corner and into the driveway.

The arcade was moderately full, but not too crowded. Stan’s quick to prove yet again that he can get the high score on the punching bag and test your strength machines. He insists you won ski ball on a technicality, but you would have won even if he hadn’t tried to cheat.

“Go go go go!!” You’re ecstatic as Stan’s on his last dime at the latest, space-themed pinball machine, hitting buttons in furious concentration.

“Shit!!!”

“What?!”

“Take over! I gotta piss!!”

“Oh my god, Stan-“ you roll your eyes but do as he asks when the metallic ball lulls into a still spot. “Hurry up! Don’t be mad when I win before you get back- and refill my drink while you’re over there, will ya!”

He affectionately flips you off after grabbing your empty cup and heading to the bathrooms. You pray he didn’t take the cup in there with him and left it on a counter instead, but your thoughts soon hone in on the game.

In less than a minute you beat the high score by 23 points before the last ball inevitably tumbles back into the machine, playing music triumphantly. You jump with joy in celebration and look to see if Stan is on his way back yet- only to see him leaned against the food counter talking with a beautiful brunette in baby blue.

She’s so obviously flirting, playing coy and laughing at something he says, no doubt a joke or sarcastic remark. The concession worker interrupts by handing Stan the soda pop you asked for. He takes it, then makes his infuriatingly smooth departure with a wink. You whip back around to the machine before he can catch you staring.

“Holy shit!! You did it!” he exclaims as he returns. “Wish I coulda seen it. But y’know, when nature calls-“

You can’t help but laugh and your fingers that you didn’t realize were so tense soften. “Gross.”

“Speaking of, here’s your drink.”

You take the cup from him, noting the pink color visible through the translucent plastic lid and frown. “This isn’t rootbeer-“

“Nah, it’s even better. Just try it,” he smiles.

You do, wearily, after shooting him a look- then widening your eyes in surprise. It’s delicious.

“Pink lemonade and Pitt, baby- my personal recipe.” He’s almost proud.

“Wow, look at you. Such an innovator. How long have you been sitting on this one?”

He shrugs. “Can’t go givin’ away all my secrets at once, can I?”

“Guess not… Hey- wanna head out?”

It wasn’t unusual that you ended up like this- with a bottle of booze or two Stan snuck from his dad (or straight up stole), various packages of junk food splayed out between the two of you on the floor of your room watching whatever’s on tv and chatting away, playing cards.

The more you drink, the less you pay attention to the old clichéd drama and the less you hide your stolen looks at Stan, lying on his back with his feet rudely propped up against your bed. His nose is a bit flushed from the alcohol, but he can’t be more than just buzzed- you’ve seen him far worse.

You shove his legs from their resting spot. “You’re getting dirt on my bed, asshole.”

He snorts, “oh please, if you were so worried about keeping it clean you wouldn’t get all those crumbs in it-“

You hit his shoulder. “Says the guy with the sticky peanut fingers!!”

He continues, unfazed: “too bad the only way yer bed’s getting dirty is from snacking-“

You hurl a bag of chips at Stan’s face. “You’re disgusting!“

“Well, don’t mind if I do!” He opens the chips and helps himself to a handful.

“Pig.”

And with one sudden motion, Stan dumps the chips out of the bag and onto your poor comforter.

He must expect your retaliation, because as you attempt to tackle him, Stan rolls and pins you to the floor instead, laughing. “Nice try.”

“Idiot!”

“You’re so cute when you pout like that.”

You hope he can’t tell how your chest fluttered at that. “Sh-shut up!”

Oh yeah, good cover.

“That’s cute too.”

You’re still pinned by his hands on your wrists- his eyes roam your face, his grin smug and brazen and infuriating. Your face feels hot- God, why did he do this to you…

He laughs at your sound of disgust. “Oh come on- you know you love me.”

Jesus, how were you supposed to keep this up…

You couldn’t take this anymore. As much as a life without Stan in it seemed unbearable, this? This had to be worse. You couldn’t pretend that this was just friendly banter, or that you were just playing the same way you used to in elementary. Doing all the things couples do, except the kissing, the touching, the declarations of love- like it was normal, like you hadn’t felt this way for ages.

Either Stan knows how you feel and doesn’t feel the same and is mercifully sparing you from the embarrassment of letting you down gently for the sake of your friendship or- oh god, he probably thought of you as a sibling or cousin….

Or maybe he was just completely clueless. That would actually be sort of impressive; as daft as he could be at times, it was blaringly obvious to everyone around you that you and Stan Pines should be an item. It’s what most assumed until awkwardly told otherwise.

You’re not sure if that option- naivety- would hurt any less. For years you had to pretend like it didn’t make your heart ache every time he flirted with beautiful girls. You had to try as best as you could to be happy for him whenever he bragged about scoring, or a new girlfriend came along. You always looked like the third wheel, whether it was with Stan and his twin brother as kids or when he was dating Carla- You always had a bad feeling about her but god, she made him so incredibly happy. As terrible as it was, when she cheated on him and they broke up, you secretly hoped that Stan got even the slightest taste of what you feel… either way, you could never get as close as you wanted. But then again, surely it must just be the booze making your sentimental…

You loved him. Stanley Pines, your best friend; you still remember the blood and snot dripping from his nose the day you came to his aid after he ate shit tumbling down the jungle gym.

He’d been a pain ever since.

But he was the one you let copy your homework. The one who took you to prom when no one asked you, who talked you into stupid shit but always made sure to get you out of it, even if it meant throwing himself under the bus.

You wished more than anything you could be content with that- but you just couldn’t. Not anymore. Not since you realized that what you felt for him wouldn’t fade.

Either he’d feel the same or you’d have to walk away- for your own sake. Even if you had to leave an immense piece of yourself behind with him.

Your mind is whirling with all this and more, a mile a minute, so when Stan leans down closer to you, you panic, shoving him away and nearly knocking him over. The way his smile falls into a devastated frown almost makes you wish you could take it back. You can’t look him in the eye for a moment.

“Don’t…” The word is all you can manage, the weight of everything you’ve felt for ages behind it, and the crack in your voice gives it away.

“Fuck, I’m- I’m so sorry,” Stan chokes, his tone drawing your eyes back to his own and they’re filled with a mix of emotions you can’t quite place. His hand on the comforter tenses into a fist as he speaks again, “I’m sorry. I thought…”

“Though what?” Tears have spilled down your cheeks by this point and the sight visably shakes Stan even further. God, you hated crying in front of him. “You thought you could just kiss me like that?!”

He reddens. “I, I thought- you! I dunno… I thought you’d be into it- that you liked me!”

You can’t help the dumb look of disbelief on your face. Your jaw must’ve hit the floor. You sputter, trying to grasp what you just heard. Was he serious?

Rage takes over and next you know, you have a pillow in your fists and are inflicting a flurry of hits to the young man, unrestrained.

“OF COURSE I FUCKING LIKE YOU YOU FUCKING MORON!” you yell between punches, ignoring the boy’s expletives. “It only took you a decade and a half to figure it out?! You piece of shit!!”

Finally Stan manages to rip the weapon away from your grasp. “Hey!! Alright, okay, hold on! Let’s talk about this!!”

You tear up again, this time with tears of anger. “Are you just trying to fuck with me? Are you fucking drunk or something?”

“N-no! I… I wanted to kiss you.”

“Since when?!” you’re flabberghasted.

“I dunno!! A while!!” He looks stupidly mortified.

“So… you knew how I felt and didn’t say anything?”

“I- I didn’t-“

But you don’t let him finish, vexation igniting in your bones. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life, and you knew, and you thought you could just- just see what you could get away with?!” You stand, ready to leave your own room and storm to who-knows-where, but Stanley stops you, grabbing onto you pleadingly.

“NO! Please, just-“ he groans in frustration, “I fucked up, but- can I please try to explain?!” His eyes bore into your own, like they do when giving you a pep talk or begging you not to tell anyone about some stunt he pulled that could get him in real trouble; but now, they’re begging you to stay, pleading for you to understand.

The anger melts away and suddenly you realize Stanley Pines is about to open up to you; moreover, the two of you just breached territory into a conversation you thought could only ever happen in your hypothetical scenarios.

You nod, and Stan’s grip on your shoulders relaxes. He moves to take a seat on the edge of your bed, sighing in relief when-

CRUNCH

There’s no hiding your laughter, even as Stan brushes the crushed chips from seat of his jeans with a grumble before pulling the blanket onto the floor along with the mess. You take a seat next to him, still giggling.

And oh man, he’s sweating already. “I mean, you know I’m not good with- words, and junk,” he murmers shyly, “but I’ll give it my best shot.”

Well, that’s all you could ever ask of him.

“I’ve uh- never been the best with women, as you’re so quick to point out- but I guess my relationship with any guy in my life ain’t the best neither,” He laughs dryly. “Somehow it always ends bad. Either I fuck up and deserve it, or I just get shit luck.”

He shifts in his spot nervously. “Point is, besides Ford, you’ve always been there for me and uh- I dunno know when I started feelin’ the way I do. Maybe it was b’fore I even realized it-”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, chancing a glance to you. “And I had a feelin’ you felt somethin’ too, but uh, I didn’t wanna be wrong. I didn’t wanna mess up the only good thing I’ve got goin’ in my life now that Ford’s leavin’ and all. But, guess I was just tired of playin’ it safe.”

Now that makes you laugh. “Since when have you ever played it safe, Stan Pines?”

He chuckles, relaxing a bit. “Exactly! That’s what I thought once I got some booze in me.” His look turns serious once again.

“But, y’know- I mean it. I know I don’t got a lot goin’ for me. Everyone says I ain’t got a future and they’re probably right, but, I don’t care. S’pecially when you’re around.” His gaze meets yours and you’d be embarrassed by your tears if you weren’t so moved. His hand moves to yours slowly, hesitantly.

“You’ve put up with me through the good times and bad. Sappy as it is, I’d uh- I’d really hate t’think of a future without ya in either of ‘em. When I picture myself happy, it’s with you.”

Your voice is barely coherent through the waterworks; you can only choke out his name as your arms wrap so tightly around him it almost hurts. Though he’s taken aback for a moment, he soon calms and returns it. Neither of you had ever hugged the other like this, not even as children. His arms are like a tangible wave of relief.

It was all so much, a few of your tears trickle onto Stan’s shoulder. Pulling away, you come face-to-face, nose-to-nose, cupping his flushed cheek. Surely you had to be dreaming.

But then, your lips meet- and just like that, it all becomes real. Any fuzz surrounding your mind dissipates and is replaced with absolute euphoria.

You did it. You were doing it. Kissing Stanley Pines. Your best friend. Who you were in absolute love with.

But, it was tender and quick, almost an experimental testing of newly found waters; you separate, grinning so hard your cheeks would surely hurt if you kept it up. “I knew you were a giant sap.”

Stan belly-laughs, shifting you closer to straddle his lap. “Well, if it makes ya feel better ‘bout the pouting thing, you’re not nearly as cute when you cry.”

You gawk, smacking his shoulder. “Five seconds after kissing me and you insult me!” He’s snickering, just like his old trouble-maker self. “And you wonder why you have problems with women,” you scoff, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“We could try again?” His smirk is eager to please.

So you do, this time with more enthusiasm, more passion. He hums against your lips as your hands run through his hair. Stan breaks for air, moving to the side of your neck and leaving a peck there as his hands run along your sides. “Everythin’ you hoped I’d be?” he teases.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Suddenly he seems hesitant. “Is this weird? You sure you’re fine with th-”

You cut him off, bringing his face inches from yours again, leaning your forehead against his own. ”I’m crazy about you, Stan Pines. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Stan’s smile is so genuine, so full of joy that you almost hate to lose the sight of it as you kiss him again and again.

“I only ask cuz we might know a lil’ too much about each other,” he warns against your lips. “Liiiike, that one spot on your shoulder-”

“No!! Stanley, don’t you dare-”

But it’s too late.

Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

#no to finish the other prompts lol #but firstL sleep #fic #stan #ask #:#long post #long text #my writing

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mar-in-space · 5 years

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Hunts and Festivals

A list a few of the hunts and festivals that happen within the tribe Metus Vescor

A note, some times of these have changed due to moving to a different planet.

The Firstling Hunt -

When a years worth of sprouts become of a certain age (about 8 seasons old), they are sent out to hunt with their Nest Mates. The Sprouts are to stick to the forest close to the village, and hunting and gathering as much as they can. The food they catch/gather is then the main part of a feast. Time frame: Two days before the full moon is when it starts and it ends two days after the full moon is over. The Feast takes place the next night after they all return.

A Victor’s Hunt -

Happens after a battle between Floran that happens in the arena, whether it was for sport or argument. The victor holds over their victory by going out and hunting. Bringing back something for their opponent. Part of the reason this is in place is to prevent the arena from being used to settle all arguments.

Hunt of the Red Moon-

An Autumn festival, in which the Autumn Floran hunt and gather for a feast. It’s easily over shadowed by the Hunt of the Harvest, as it happens only a few weeks before. Time frame: The autumn equinox

Hunt of the Harvest -

Takes place in the Autumn, yearly. Hunters and gathers take as much food and drink as they can to the old village (a large clearing where the village once stood long long long long ago). A large bonfire is made, and that's where the food is cooked. There is dancing and singing and partying. It usually ends in a dog-pile of sleeping Floran. The main festival is for grown Floran only. But a Sprouts version is held in the main village 3 days later. Time frame: Mid-Autumn, after the harvest. Prep is the day before. The Festival itself is one full 24 hour day/night. There is a rest period and more preparation for the Sprouts' version of the festival 3 days later

Winter Preparations - x 2

The first bit is a large hunt in order to stock up on meats and gather some things that are harder to grow back in the village.

The Second is more a lack of hunting to be honest. But more of a festival where hunting groups go out and check on the animal populations before winter starts. Doing some minor gathering.

Hunt of No Moon -

A Winter festival, in which the Winter Floran hunt and gather for a feast. Not much is expected due to hunting in Winter being difficult. But organized by the Floran is also a performance in the arena, a complex sort of dance. Time frame: The winter solstice

Shedding Winter’s Coat -

The First hunt after winter. No feast, just some drinks passed around. Often this is when many get their first taste of alcohol.

Hunt of the Waxing Moon -

A Spring festival, in which the Spring Floran hunt and gather for a feast. They have the sweetest of sweets during their feast. Due to many soups and many sorts of honey thawing. Time frame: the spring equinox

Poptop Festival -

No actual hunting involved. Just the attempt to tame smaller Poptops. It’s also a sort of musical festival. There is a combative bit, where some adult ones are fought in the arena. Time frame: the last day of Spring first day of summer

Hunt in Brightest Moon -

A Summer festival, in which the Summer Floran hunt and gather for a feast. This festival has the most meat and alcohol. Spicy herbs are frequently used to season the meats. Time frame: the summer solstice

Burning Days -

A week long hunt that takes place in the desert far to the north. Where the Queen’s hunt goes to hunt. Living in the heated sands is far different then the coolness of the canyon and forest. In part, it is to help the Hunt bond and act better as one unit, second it is to be sure the desert creatures do not gain to much influence over part of the planet. Once they return, a feast is held with the prey Time frame: third full week of the second month in summer

THE HUNTING -

Queen takes one Ixodoom, a normal one, and allows it to settle in a cave far below in the planet. Then she lets the Floran go and hunt it. Once it has been killed, the Floran or Florans that killed it are crowned champions. Then comes Queen’s favorite part. In the arena, so puts one of her Ixodoom. Created and bred just to be difficult and dangerous. She toys with it. And destroys it. It’s never difficult enough for her. Time frame: it starts the second week, within the third month. Lasting as long as it needs to.

The Challengers Hunt -

The one that doesn't happen yearly, but when Queen needs a new council. Floran volunteer to go into the vault after Queen agitates the wildlife. Floran then fight and hunt for the biggest kills, and everyone is given the time frame of about one-two weeks. Depends on when the first person returns. Queen judges. All things hunted are used in a feast afterwards, that feast is also when Queen announces the 'winners.'

#Records of the Tribe Metus Vescor #Festivals #Floran #((not sure if this counts as world building but it's been on my mind for a while))

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gracehwang · 7 years

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seeing life from God’s view

how do you see your life? what image is your life metaphor?

as an aspiring physician, the overwhelming feeling is such: life is a hurdling race with endless hurdles. one critical achievement simply precedes the next, rendering the time in between and the actual achievements themselves unworthy of celebration and void of merit. and you do this all while watching your competitors run right past you with seeming ease and grace.

embarrassingly enough, i realize i’ve yet to overcome the first, most basic obstacle (getting into medical school) and am humbled to find myself so arrogant and audacious as to already be worrying about the subsequent. regardless, to see life from God’s view disrupts my (albeit flawed) life metaphor, and this chapter serves as a necessary reminder of not only my purpose on this earth, but also of the gifts that await me in heaven should i choose to live accordingly.

[life as a test]

of character, faith, obedience, integrity, loyalty, etc.

by major changes, delayed promises, impossible problems, unanswered prayers, senseless tragedies

how do i act when i cant feel God’s presence in my life?

this past season has been a lonely one. i know God is far when i begin to seek comfort in other things -- whether that be mindless distraction (netflix, facebook, instragram), work, food, sleep, etc. i become numb inside, going through the daily motions of life, but without true joy or clear purpose. without God im resigned to live for myself, but that life has proven time and time again to be a sad and unfulfilling reality. i wake up each morning wanting to set goals, plan the future, make tangible progress, yet find my efforts futile during this period of unanswered prayer. and to think that God designed this life as a test terrifies me to the core because i know full well that i have already (a thousand times over) and will continue to fail Him miserably.

on the first of december i made a commitment to read through the entirety of the gospel within the month--89 chapters in 31 days--a feasible accomplishment to check off my list before the start of a new year. it is now late january and i am only halfway through the book of luke. needless to say, i was/am thoroughly ashamed and guilt-ridden at my inability to keep a simple promise to God. however, i returned from my hiatus to a verse i so desperately needed to hear:

“Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” Luke 7:47

without the enormity of my sin, my capacity to love and be in wonder and awe of the Lord would be diminished. without recognizing the extent to which i need His grace and forgiveness, i could never fathom receiving it. warren writes that “every incidence of character development has eternal implications”, and what this tells me is that these incidents are all-encompassing. my failures forge my character to be more attune with God’s, just as my triumphs reflect the fruits of His spirit.

[life as a trust]

God is the owner of everything and everyone, and we are simple stewards of these gifts

over break my brother lent me a book called “the blessed life” written by a pastor in texas named robert morris. in this book he recounts moments throughout his ministry when his generous and unrestricted giving resulted in abundant reward. i think i got through the first 3 chapters for the pure “wow-factor” of it all. he sold his house, both of his cars, and emptied his savings all in the same day, only to be gifted a private jet that evening. he secretly gave away an entire month’s worth of living expenses and received ten times that amount to the cent from a complete stranger just hours later. but while certainly awe-provoking, i walked away feeling like i had just been duped by the teachings of the prosperity gospel. i know in the bible there are instances when God instructs men to sell everything they own and follow him, and i also know that everything we own is not really ours, but the Lord’s. but to declare that i could ever release my claim on ALL worldly comforts and possessions would be an utter lie, and perhaps that speaks volumes about my faith, but it is the truth.

to be fair, i was definitely convicted to tithe more generously because of morris’ emphasis on the condition of our hearts and God’s desire for the firstling when it comes to the act of offering. and secondly, God’s tithe to the church was Jesus, and for that i am eternally indebted to Him. like forever. but while I always thought penance was an obsolete concept perpetuated by the rigid and all too legalistic doctrine of the catholic church, warren’s take on the christian life as one of stewardship, evaluated and rewarded according to how well we handle what God has entrusted to us, makes me think it isn’t such a bogus proposition after all. i think the critical distinction to be made is to recognize that we are not called to GIVE with the intention of then RECEIVING MORE, but rather that we are to trust that AS we give, God will be PROVIDENTIAL.

it’s actually pretty crazy to think how perfectly the content of this chapter coincides with the teachings of “the blessed life”. warren cites that money is both a test and a trust, with a direct relationship between how i manage/use my wealth and the quality of my spiritual life. and if i’m honest about where most of my paycheck goes every month, it is abundantly clear that i house plenty of idols in my heart before God Himself.

3 rewards in eternity:

affirmation

promotion

celebration

what has happened to me recently that i now realize was a test from God? what are the greatest matters God has entrusted to me?

most notably, i’ve become impatient and anxious about the medical school process. it’s been incredibly humbling to have to FULLY rely on God for something and recognize that throughout this whole journey, regardless of admissions decisions, God has been honing my character, faith, and loyalty in the midst of delayed promises and uncertainty surrounding my future. to be reminded that everything i have in this life is not a result of my own efforts, but rather a blessing entrusted to me as a steward of His greater purpose, gives me great comfort and peace in knowing that he will use me as a vehicle for kingdom work no matter the medium.

Lord You are SOVEREIGN, Your PROMISES still true, and Your divine MERCIES are new every morning. May You become greater and may i become less.

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lostpoems · 4 years

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The Trees of Kortirion

(The book of Lost Tales, J.R.R. Tolkien)

Part 1: Alalminórë - Cottage of lost plays pg:39- 40.

O ancient city on a leaguered hill! Old shadows linger in your broken gate, Your stones are grey, your old halls now silent Your towers silent in the mist await Their crumbling end, while through the storeyed elms The River Gliding leaves these inland realms And slips between long meddows to the Sea; Still bearing down by their weir and murmuring falls One day and then another to the Sea; And slowly thither many days have gone Since first the Edain built Kortirion.

Kortirion! upon your island hill With winding streets, and alleys shadow-walled Where even now the peacocks pace in dril Majestic, sapphire, and emerald Once long ago amid this sleeping land Of silver rain, where still year-laden stand In unforgetful earth the rooted trees That cast long shadows in the bygone moon And whisper in the swiftly passing breeze Once long ago, Queen in the land of elms, High city were you of the inland realms

Your trees in summer you remember still: The willow by the spring, the beech on the hill; The rainy poplars, and the frowning yews within your aged courts that muse In somber splendor all the day, Until the firstling star comes glimmering, And the flittermice go by on silent wing; Until the white moon climbing sees In shadow-fields the sleep-enchanted trees Night mantled in silver-grey. Alalminor! here is your citadel, Ere bannered summer from his fortress fell; About you stood arrayed your host of elms: Green was their amor, tall and green their helms, High lords and captains of the trees but the summer wains. Behold, Kortirion! The elms their full sails have crowded on Ready to the winds, like masts amid the vale Of mighty ships too soon, too soon, to sail To other days beyond these sunlit seas.

“The Trees of kortirion” is the third version of the poem with the origenal dating back to 1937 titled “Kortirion Among the Trees”, and was sent to Ryan Unwin as a possible candidate to appear in The Tales of Tom Bombadil.

The first part: Alalminórë is fairly straightforward, but if you are wondering about the location of Alalminórë; it was located in the center region of Tol Eressëa, an island off the coast in the middle of the Belegear. It was originally inhabited by elves but then men came and built kortirion.

The first part of “The trees of Kortirion” Laments the days of the elves as they leave to valinor.

(Part 2 and 3 (combined with 4) to follow promptly, possibly in a year or two.)

#tolkien #book of lost tales #poetry #The Cottage of Lost Plays #the coming of men #lotr #silmarillion

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dailyofficereadings · 4 years

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Daily Office Readings January 14, 2020 at 11:00PM

Psalm 119:1-24

Psalm 119

The Glories of God’s Law

1 Happy are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord. 2 Happy are those who keep his decrees, who seek him with their whole heart, 3 who also do no wrong, but walk in his ways. 4 You have commanded your precepts to be kept diligently. 5 O that my ways may be steadfast in keeping your statutes! 6 Then I shall not be put to shame, having my eyes fixed on all your commandments. 7 I will praise you with an upright heart, when I learn your righteous ordinances. 8 I will observe your statutes; do not utterly forsake me.

9 How can young people keep their way pure? By guarding it according to your word. 10 With my whole heart I seek you; do not let me stray from your commandments. 11 I treasure your word in my heart, so that I may not sin against you. 12 Blessed are you, O Lord; teach me your statutes. 13 With my lips I declare all the ordinances of your mouth. 14 I delight in the way of your decrees as much as in all riches. 15 I will meditate on your precepts, and fix my eyes on your ways. 16 I will delight in your statutes; I will not forget your word.

17 Deal bountifully with your servant, so that I may live and observe your word. 18 Open my eyes, so that I may behold wondrous things out of your law. 19 I live as an alien in the land; do not hide your commandments from me. 20 My soul is consumed with longing for your ordinances at all times. 21 You rebuke the insolent, accursed ones, who wander from your commandments; 22 take away from me their scorn and contempt, for I have kept your decrees. 23 Even though princes sit plotting against me, your servant will meditate on your statutes. 24 Your decrees are my delight, they are my counselors.

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Psalm 12-14

Psalm 12

Plea for Help in Evil Times

To the leader: according to The Sheminith. A Psalm of David.

1 Help, O Lord, for there is no longer anyone who is godly; the faithful have disappeared from humankind. 2 They utter lies to each other; with flattering lips and a double heart they speak.

3 May the Lord cut off all flattering lips, the tongue that makes great boasts, 4 those who say, “With our tongues we will prevail; our lips are our own—who is our master?”

5 “Because the poor are despoiled, because the needy groan, I will now rise up,” says the Lord; “I will place them in the safety for which they long.” 6 The promises of the Lord are promises that are pure, silver refined in a furnace on the ground, purified seven times.

7 You, O Lord, will protect us; you will guard us from this generation forever. 8 On every side the wicked prowl, as vileness is exalted among humankind.

Psalm 13

Prayer for Deliverance from Enemies

To the leader. A Psalm of David.

1 How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? 2 How long must I bear pain[a] in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

3 Consider and answer me, O Lord my God! Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death, 4 and my enemy will say, “I have prevailed”; my foes will rejoice because I am shaken.

5 But I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. 6 I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.

Psalm 14

Denunciation of Godlessness

To the leader. Of David.

1 Fools say in their hearts, “There is no God.” They are corrupt, they do abominable deeds; there is no one who does good.

2 The Lord looks down from heaven on humankind to see if there are any who are wise, who seek after God.

3 They have all gone astray, they are all alike perverse; there is no one who does good, no, not one.

4 Have they no knowledge, all the evildoers who eat up my people as they eat bread, and do not call upon the Lord?

5 There they shall be in great terror, for God is with the company of the righteous. 6 You would confound the plans of the poor, but the Lord is their refuge.

7 O that deliverance for Israel would come from Zion! When the Lord restores the fortunes of his people, Jacob will rejoice; Israel will be glad.

Footnotes:

Psalm 13:2 Syr: Heb hold counsels

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

Genesis 4:1-16

Cain Murders Abel

4 Now the man knew his wife Eve, and she conceived and bore Cain, saying, “I have produced[a] a man with the help of the Lord.” 2 Next she bore his brother Abel. Now Abel was a keeper of sheep, and Cain a tiller of the ground. 3 In the course of time Cain brought to the Lord an offering of the fruit of the ground, 4 and Abel for his part brought of the firstlings of his flock, their fat portions. And the Lord had regard for Abel and his offering, 5 but for Cain and his offering he had no regard. So Cain was very angry, and his countenance fell. 6 The Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry, and why has your countenance fallen? 7 If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is lurking at the door; its desire is for you, but you must master it.”

8 Cain said to his brother Abel, “Let us go out to the field.”[b] And when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel, and killed him. 9 Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” He said, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” 10 And the Lord said, “What have you done? Listen; your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground! 11 And now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. 12 When you till the ground, it will no longer yield to you its strength; you will be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth.” 13 Cain said to the Lord, “My punishment is greater than I can bear! 14 Today you have driven me away from the soil, and I shall be hidden from your face; I shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth, and anyone who meets me may kill me.” 15 Then the Lord said to him, “Not so![c] Whoever kills Cain will suffer a sevenfold vengeance.” And the Lord put a mark on Cain, so that no one who came upon him would kill him. 16 Then Cain went away from the presence of the Lord, and settled in the land of Nod,[d] east of Eden.

Footnotes:

Genesis 4:1 The verb in Heb resembles the word for Cain

Genesis 4:8 Sam Gk Syr Compare Vg: MT lacks Let us go out to the field

Genesis 4:15 Gk Syr Vg: Heb Therefore

Genesis 4:16 That is Wandering

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

Hebrews 2:11-18

11 For the one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father.[a] For this reason Jesus[b] is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters,[c] 12 saying,

“I will proclaim your name to my brothers and sisters,[d] in the midst of the congregation I will praise you.”

13 And again,

“I will put my trust in him.”

And again,

“Here am I and the children whom God has given me.”

14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death. 16 For it is clear that he did not come to help angels, but the descendants of Abraham. 17 Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters[e] in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people. 18 Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.

Footnotes:

Hebrews 2:11 Gk are all of one

Hebrews 2:11 Gk he

Hebrews 2:11 Gk brothers

Hebrews 2:12 Gk brothers

Hebrews 2:17 Gk brothers

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

John 1:29-42

The Lamb of God

29 The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! 30 This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ 31 I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” 32 And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. 33 I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ 34 And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.”[a]

The First Disciples of Jesus

35 The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, 36 and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” 37 The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. 38 When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” 39 He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. 40 One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. 41 He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed[b]). 42 He brought Simon[c] to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter[d]).

Footnotes:

John 1:34 Other ancient authorities read is God’s chosen one

John 1:41 Or Christ

John 1:42 Gk him

John 1:42 From the word for rock in Aramaic (kepha) and Greek (petra), respectively

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

#January 14 #2020 at 11:00PM

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powerjournals-blog · 5 years

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How Tithers Make God Build a House for Them

1. Tithing makes provision for the house of God.

The prophet Malachi asked for the tithes to be brought to the house of the Lord for one reason: that there may be meat (supplies, provision, materials, goods, food, equipment) in the house of the Lord. The house of the Lord needs to be built. The house of the Lord also has needs. Every time you pay your tithes and offerings, you make provision for the house of the Lord.

Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be MEAT IN MINE HOUSE, and prove me now herewith, saith the LORD of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.

Malachi 3:10

2. Paying tithes is your way of investing in the house of God. Tithing is your great seed of investment into the house of God. Through your tithes you make your biggest investment into the affairs of the house of the Lord. Your tithe meets the great needs of the house of God. One of the greatest needs is for the house of God to be built, furnished and maintained.

Is it not marvellous that we can contribute to such a great and spiritual project? What is more amazing is the fact that building the house of the Lord activates the laws of sowing and reaping in a special way.

By investing in the house of the Lord, we open ourselves to reaping a harvest of God investing in our own houses. Tithers inadvertently invoke the blessings of God building a house for them because they build the house of God by tithing.

You will notice from the Scriptures that paying of tithes was the greatest way to invest in the house of the Lord. Not investing in the house of the Lord was the same as forsaking the house of the Lord. If God forsakes your house what will happen to you?

If you do not forsake God’s house God will not forsake your house.

And we cast the lots among the priests, the Levites, and the people, for the wood offering, to bring it into the house of our God, after the houses of our fathers, at times appointed year by year, to burn upon the altar of the LORD our God, as it is written in the law:

And to BRING THE FIRSTFRUITS OF OUR GROUND, and THE FIRSTFRUITS OF ALL FRUIT OF ALL TREES, year by year, unto the house of the LORD:

Also the FIRSTBORN OF OUR SONS, AND OF OUR CATTLE, as it is written in the law, and the FIRSTLINGS OF OUR HERDS AND OF OUR FLOCKS, to bring to the house of our God, unto the priests that minister in the house of our God:

And that we should bring THE FIRSTFRUITS OF OUR DOUGH, AND OUR OFFERINGS, and the fruit of all manner of trees, of wine and of oil, unto the priests, to the chambers of the house of our God; and the tithes of our ground unto the Levites, that the same Levites might have the tithes in all the cities of our tillage.

And the priest the son of Aaron shall be with the Levites, when the Levites take tithes: and the Levites shall bring up the tithe of the tithes unto the house of our God, to the chambers, into the treasure house.

For the children of Israel and the children of Levi shall bring the offering of the corn, of the new wine, and the oil, unto the chambers, where are the vessels of the sanctuary, and the priests that minister, and the porters, and the singers: AND WE WILL NOT FORSAKE THE HOUSE OF OUR GOD.

Nehemiah 10:34-39

And I perceived that the portions of the Levites had not been given them: for the Levites and the singers, that did the work, were fled every one to his field.

Then contended I with the rulers, and said, WHY IS THE HOUSE OF GOD FORSAKEN? And I gathered them together, and set them in their place.

THEN BROUGHT ALL JUDAH THE TITHE of the corn and the new wine and the oil unto the treasuries.

And I made treasurers over the treasuries, Shelemiah the priest, and Zadok the scribe, and of the Levites, Pedaiah: and next to them was Hanan the son of Zaccur, the son of Mattaniah: for they were counted faithful, and their office was to distribute unto their brethren.

Remember me, O my God, concerning this, and wipe not out my good deeds that I have done for the house of my God, and for the offices thereof.

Nehemiah 13:10-14

3. You reap whatever you sow.

Many years ago, I attended the sod-cutting ceremony of a great church in our city. A great man of God performed the ceremony and made a statement which stayed with me. He said, “If you build a house for God, God will build a house for you.” As I pondered on this statement, I realized that he was rephrasing Galatians six verse seven.

… for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.

Galatians 6:7

If you invest in the house of the Lord, the Lord will invest in your house. If you plant a seed to build God’s house, God will build a house for you. This is why people who pay tithes open for themselves a door to owning property.

4. Unless God helps you, you will never own or build a house. In many African countries, about eighty percent of urban residents live in squatter settlements or shanty towns.

Very few people in this world are able to build or own their own homes. Many people are even unable to rent houses and just use properties which they have access to. A lot of people are simply perpetual squatters.

These are facts of life. It takes the grace of God to ever have something you can call your own. That is why I declare boldly that unless God helps you, you will never own or build a house in your lifetime.

Tithing gives you an opportunity to involve God in your situation. By investing in the house of the Lord, you have sown the seeds of a house and can expect to reap a good harvest from the Lord.

Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it: except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.

Psalm 127:1

5. God objects to people living happily in their own houses when they have not made provision for the house of God. God will oppose you living comfortably in your house when you have not built His house.

Thus speaketh the LORD of hosts, saying, this people say, The time is not come, the time that the LORD'S house should be built. Then came the word of the LORD by Haggai the prophet, saying, Is it time for you, O ye, to dwell in your cieled houses, and this house lie waste? Now therefore thus saith the LORD of hosts; Consider your ways.

Haggai 1:2-5

6. God will be touched by your efforts to build a house for Him. David desired to build a house for the Lord. David touched God’s heart by his desire and interest in the house of the Lord. King David’s attempt to build a house for the Lord invoked an amazing blessing. Notice how the Scripture puts it. God said to David in response to his attempt to invest in the house of God, “… THINE HOUSE AND THY KINGDOM SHALL BE ESTABLISHED for ever before thee: thy throne shall be established for ever (2 Samuel 7:16).

And it came to pass that night, that the word of the Lord came unto Nathan, saying, go and tell my servant David, Thus saith the Lord, Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?

Whereas I have not dwelt in any house since the time that I brought up the children of Israel out of Egypt, even to this day, but have walked in a tent and in a tabernacle.

In all the places wherein I have walked with all the children of Israel spake I a word with any of the tribes of Israel, whom I commanded to feed my people Israel, saying, Why build ye not me an house of cedar?

Now therefore so shalt thou say unto my servant David, Thus saith the LORD of hosts, I took thee from the sheepcote, from following the sheep, to be ruler over my people, over Israel: and I was with thee whithersoever thou wentest, and have cut off all thine enemies out of thy sight, and have made thee a great name, like unto the name of the great men that are in the earth.

Moreover I will appoint a place for my people Israel, and will plant them, that they may dwell in a place of their own, and move no more; neither shall the children of wickedness afflict them any more, as beforetime,

And as since the time that I commanded judges to be over my people Israel, and have caused thee to rest from all thine enemies. Also the Lord telleth thee that he will make thee an house.

And when thy days be fulfilled, and thou shalt sleep with thy fathers, I will set up thy seed after thee, which shall proceed out of thy bowels, and I will establish his kingdom.

He shall build an house for my name, and I will stablish the throne of his kingdom for ever.

I will be his father, and he shall be my son. If he commit iniquity, I will chasten him with the rod of men, and with the stripes of the children of men: but my mercy shall not depart away from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away before thee.

And THINE HOUSE AND THY KINGDOM SHALL BE ESTABLISHED FOR EVER before thee: thy throne shall be established for ever.

2 Samuel 7:4-16

7. God will build a house for you as He did for Solomon. Solomon is famous for building the temple of the Lord. A little known fact is that Solomon was helped to build a mighty house for himself. Indeed, you cannot outdo God. He will bless you and build a house for you. What God did for Solomon is what He wants to do for you. Decide today to be a tither! You are deciding to build a house for God and therefore God will help you build a house for yourself.

And it came to pass in the four hundred and eightieth year after the children of Israel were come out of the land of Egypt, in the fourth year of Solomon's reign over Israel, in the month Zif, which is the second month, that HE BEGAN TO BUILD THE HOUSE OF THE LORD… In the fourth year was the foundation of the house of the Lord laid, in the month Zif: and in the eleventh year, in the month Bul, which is the eighth month, was the house finished throughout all the parts thereof, and according to all the fashion of it. So was he seven years in building it.

BUT SOLOMON WAS BUILDING HIS OWN HOUSE THIRTEEN YEARS, and he finished all his house.

1 Kings 6:1, 37-38

by Dag Heward-Mills

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transparentmanposts · 6 years

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Myth Vs Truth

Friend, one of my ministries is to challenge mythical believes that have been masquerading as biblical fact. Mythical beliefs are the tools that create idols. Biblical truth is a window to a clear vision of God’s image. How Can a person say they know God personally if they never saw Him or hear Him speak physically to them? An answer is a person seeking to know God must look for Him in the holy scriptures. This is the vestal He has chosen to use to reveal Himself. The scripture also is the communication device He has chosen to use to communicate with those who are seeking to fellowship with Him. Prayer offered by faith is the seeker’s communication device to God.

If a person seeking to know God chooses another avenue outside what God has set up to reveal Himself to Man, they will not achieve a proper fellowship with God but will have a relationship with an idol. A good illustration of God not respecting a man’s attempt to come to God on his own term instead of God preset terms. Is the account of Cain and Abel. God had set up a system to cover sin, which was animal sacrifice until the Messiah would come to offer Himself as the supreme sacrifice that would destroy the chain of sin that imprisoned mankind to the gates of hell and would restore them to perfect fellowship with God. Now Cain who was a tiller of the ground, try to offer a burnt sacrifice of the fruits of the ground he harvested. The problem with this offering is that God required an animal sacrifice (blood sacrifice) to cover Cain sins. So, God rejected Cain sacrifice. Cain should have bartered with his bother to obtain an animal to offer the proper sacrifice.

Here is the account of Cain and Abel Genesis 4:1-20 American Standard Version (ASV) 4 And the man knew Eve his wife; and she conceived, and bare Cain, and said, I have [a]gotten a man with the help of Jehovah. 2 And again she bare his brother Abel. And Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground. 3 And in process of time, it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto Jehovah. 4 And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. And Jehovah had respect unto Abel and to his offering: 5 but unto Cain and to his offering, he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell. 6 And Jehovah said unto Cain, Why art thou wroth? and why is thy countenance fallen? 7 If thou doest well, shall it not be lifted up? and if thou doest not well, sin coucheth at the door; and unto thee shall be its desire, but do thou rule over it. 8 And Cain [b]told Abel his brother. And it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.

Let’s look at a few scriptures that address the spiritual concept that has been discussed thus far. A relationship with God begins with hearing or reading the scriptures. Roman chapter 10: verses 13-15 13 for, [b]Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. 14 How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? 15 and how shall they preach, except they be sent? even as it is written, [c]How beautiful are the feet of them that bring [d]glad tidings of good things!

Testing all spiritual matters by the scripture. 1 John chapter4: verses 1-5 American Standard Version (ASV) 4 Beloved, believe not every spirit, but prove the spirits, whether they are of God; because many false prophets are gone out into the world. 2 Hereby know ye the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is of God: 3 and every spirit that [a]confesseth not Jesus is not of God: and this is the spirit of the antichrist, whereof ye have heard that it cometh; and now it is in the world already. 4 Ye are of God, my little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world. 5 They are of the world: therefore speak they as of the world, and the world heareth them.

Jesus is the only mediator between God and man.

Acts chapter 4: verses 10-12 American Standard Version (ASV) 10 be it known unto you all, and to all the people of Israel, that in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom ye crucified, whom God raised from the dead, even in [a]him doth this man stand here before you whole. 11 He is [b]the stone which was set at nought of you the builders, which was made the head of the corner. 12 And in none other is there salvation: for neither is there any other name under heaven, that is given among men, wherein we must be saved.

Walking in fellowship with God

1 Thessalonians 5:16-22 English Standard Version (ESV) 16 Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 19 Do not quench the Spirit. 20 Do not despise prophecies, 21 but test everything; hold fast what is good. 22 Abstain from every form of evil.

Sin interrupts fellowship with God, restoration is through confession and repentance.

1 John chapter 1:8-10 American Standard Version (ASV) 8 If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. 9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 10 If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.

God will provide for all our needs if we first seek to know him and participate in His Kingdom business.

Matthew chapter 6:31-34 American Standard Version (ASV) 31 Be not therefore anxious, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? 32 For after all these things do the Gentiles seek; for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. 33 But seek ye first his kingdom, and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you. 34 Be not therefore anxious for the morrow: for the morrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

Let us look at a case of mythical believe VS Biblical teaching. One day while I was at my place of employment, I decided to ask my coworker a challenging quest for Christianity. Due to the fact, my coworker was raised in a Christian home and was schooled by a Christian education system. I ask him, could have Jesus been an average or even an unattractive man of physical appearance? He told me that He most likely looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Because he was God, He must have possessed superhuman strength and supernaturally handsome appearance. While we were debating this subject other coworker joined in on the conversation. They were of one accord against my notion that Jesus could have been an ordinary or even been a homely looking person. My coworker thought my notion about the Lord was disrespectful, and that he didn’t want to be anywhere near me when I go to step outside the building at the end of the day, be he believed God was going to try and hit me with a bolt of lightning for my blasphemy. What does the Bible teach about Jesus Appearance? The bible only mentions Jesus appearance a few times, and they were of Jesus glorified state of appearance, not his normal human appearance.

Jesus’s transfiguration Luke 9:28-36 American Standard Version (ASV) 28 And it came to pass about eight days after these sayings, that he took with him Peter and John and James, and went up into the mountain to pray. 29 And as he was praying, the fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment became white and dazzling. 30 And behold, there talked with him two men, who were Moses and Elijah; 31 who appeared in glory, and spake of his [a]decease which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and they that were with him were heavy with sleep: but [b]when they were fully awake, they saw his glory, and the two men that stood with him. 33 And it came to pass, as they were parting from him, Peter said unto Jesus, Master, it is good for us to be here: and let us make three [c]tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elijah: not knowing what he said. 34 And while he said these things, there came a cloud, and overshadowed them: and they feared as they entered into the cloud. 35 And a voice came out of the cloud, saying, This is [d]my Son, my chosen: hear ye him. 36 And when the voice [e]came, Jesus was found alone. And they held their peace, and told no man in those days any of the things which they had seen.

Jesus’s glorified appearance to John in a vision on the island of Patmos Revelation 1:12-17 American Standard Version (ASV) 12 And I turned to see the voice that spake with me. And having turned I saw seven golden [a]candlesticks; 13 and in the midst of the [b]candlesticks one like unto a son of man, clothed with a garment down to the foot, and girt about at the breasts with a golden girdle. 14 And his head and his hair were white as white wool, white as snow; and his eyes were as a flame of fire; 15 and his feet like unto burnished brass, as if it had been refined in a furnace; and his voice as the voice of many waters. 16 And he had in his right hand seven stars: and out of his mouth proceeded a sharp two-edged sword: and his countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength. 17 And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as one dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying, Fear not; I am the first and the last, Revelation chapter 2 verse 1 American Standard Version (ASV) These things saith he that holdeth the seven stars in his right hand, he that walketh in the midst of the seven golden [a]candlesticks: Revelation 3 American Standard Version (ASV) These things saith he that hath the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars: I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and thou art dead

Other than the descriptions of the glorified appearance of Jesus, the bible doesn’t give a description of His normal human appearance. But according to the prophecy made about the coming Messiah in the book Isaiah chapter 53, the prophet said that there will be nothing about him that would draw anyone to him or cause them to esteem him. To put it in modern terms, if Jesus was put in a police line up of a group of 1st century Galileans, and did not teach or work a miracle, nobody would pick Him out to be the Messiah by His appearance.

The prophecy of the messiah’s life and ministry. Isaiah 53 American Standard Version (ASV) 53 Who hath believed [a]our message? and to whom hath the arm of Jehovah been revealed? 2 For he grew up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; [b]and when we see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. 3 He was despised, and [c]rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with [d]grief: and [e]as one from whom men hide their face he was despised; and we esteemed him not.

4 Surely he hath borne our [f]griefs, and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. 5 But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. 6 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and Jehovah hath [g]laid on him the iniquity of us all.

7 He was oppressed, yet when he was afflicted he opened not his mouth; as a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and as a sheep that before its shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth. 8 [h]By oppression and judgment he was taken away; and as for his generation, who among them considered that he was cut off out of the land of the [i]living for the transgression of my people to whom the stroke was due? 9 And they made his grave with the wicked, and with a rich man in his death; [j]although he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.

10 Yet it pleased Jehovah to bruise him; he hath [k]put him to grief: [l]when thou shalt make his soul [m]an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of Jehovah shall prosper in his hand. 11 [n]He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: [o]by the knowledge of himself shall my righteous servant [p]justify many; and he shall bear their iniquities. 12 Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he poured out his soul unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors: yet he bare the sin of many, and [q]made intercession for the transgressors.

What drew people to Jesus is he provided for their spiritual and physical needs. He was approachable, and he was acquainted with their everyday struggles, He showed unconditional love and compaction, He demonstrated the power of God over creation, He taught the scripture with authority. The conclusion of this article is, get in the scripture that you may know God in Spirit and truth.

Written by Stephen J. Vattimo 5/6/2018

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libidomechanica · 3 months

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Untitled Composition # 11255

A sonnet sequence

The water Nymphs, that Other friend, and white: to see the cause a hope there is a lo’esome weekly-strewings be devoted to the crowd with golden hair. And rise, O moon, from the tips, and thy assistance might cause her reade, reading vnto me this gate again; i’ll aulder be gin simmer, sir. I meant not much amisse. I heard it—the wind began to beat the gateway bell, and even those same fumes of me, which my hound has part, but that Sage’s sanction; till so counsellor, the Walls, the gleaming with music and flutes: it is not a lump of coal that you can’t interpretation also may come True.

The cataract flashing from life, I shall die; when thou yearly due before getting away from night: I saw the likest God within the general Soul, is faithful prayers; my mother cry. For Johnie o’ the Buskie-glen and a’ his gear. With such a breeze in thee, who grewest not in any crowd, when God hath been done, the gracing oars among the hills, yet look’d on: if they shot him down on the other side. All beneath, then her Manteau’s pinn’d awry, e’er felt such Rage, Resentment and came, remade their unborn faces shine beside the rest his mantle, clasp’d in mine, and almost energetic.

Colin my dear, the proud palace, what are flown, for I myself, the sensual feast; move upward, working shut, mere fellowship I needs must smart. Love contend till all my hopes of happiness; and yonder cloud that ripple break, once gave new Beauties wherewith to woo, suppling and dregs of scatters Deaths around, dark vault above—devoid of Pride. When they shouldst thou wreck his peace for evermore. May lie in sleep: the dream. I cannot bring back. A vestige of the sun-flower! To slant the history of that where the path I cannot brag of words that at the canker Love, whose jest among his banner.

And one Plebeian Card. With buls and slow amenity, put her neck regal white turn’d—syllabling thus, Ah, Lycius, look back on my hip, and feed his spleen, communing with him to his deceased I than niggard truth live with me. A goblet next I’ll drink to thee. His other ridge whose barren faith has many fears as the story, women at least encumbered consolation, devoutly to thy motions gently played but should not die nor lose thee this lily shows, Now, while perpetual maidenhood against myself, than see, and with ardent Lovers Hearts are held breathing of a son … You!

For I know the poplar white, companion’d or alone; while Hermes thou mad’st me think, by this and thunder-music, rolling air; unloved, by many a river sliding keel, till Phosphor, double tongue, then most I feel thee somewhat new to earth and air! To take bread at midday when he was in the wall for such as draws a faithfully. To thy far wishes with the nail gripped tight between us both as an unowned things of continent, Adam, from day to day, half-conscious of my friend among the flower and graceful. Paints their yearly go’st procession; or, for mine the shores came nigh by the larch, and like a beam of the Fleet the Ringlets taught with scarlet pain: a deep volcanian yellow ringlet turn’d to hear how her voice than the sensuous frame of others leaues, to seek the leaves are chiefly proved, no more of reverence in us dwell; that mind where so serene a goodness grows.

That island is fast, surrounded by fens. Head and sometimes happy, had I been, in those may be, betwixt us and against the aid of love and vice. Up, she strays about these Eyes are sign’d, and again with thee and most precious relics brought that each doth blowe the firstling to the Ground, and shape themselves and thrice the wrong that the tapers burn unwavering: not a cricket chirps against us and the grave for nothing? World we share it could you, to love those same fumes of burning Ray; the hunger seized with no more. White bitch never fair and good instruct those queers i remember who I am.

Can make known that serene a goodness grows. And dance and away fled every spinning wheel in her breast! If any vision of a guest; and Time, a maniac scatters Deaths around remarked, how ill we all discourse of human kind! With silken ties of love. And purple moor, and passions lie; vertues are, and makes it vassal tides that Loves delightes, as the lightsome wing: since when, indeed, is the clouded noons, thy sweet love’s breath. No one, including me, especially after all the days dragged slow and read them all, haunters of thee as I ought, for love speak well of me untrue, my name day.

Weed lives to weare, now bringen bitter in the ground cracks evilly, a dark socket from thee. Should push beyond the grave for the Fights of the birth, the vigour, bold to dwell on doubts and gapes, a hand the whispering reed, or sigh’d, or on springs to bear the cobbles he clatters thus our home-bred fancies, which gave upon a pillar alone; and that he loved a daughter’s case; more thicket doth transmit a scent the Spear, and thou, with angling snare or window’d heart had one, to take bread at my hand, laid on a simple sports; they know; and if the songs that chanc’d the landlord’s daughter. And somehow good!

Then—i never think of the prophets of the lythe Caducean charm. Sweet, be not iaelous ouer me, if you like a marble. Ever about my blood and grow incorporated, body restore, to be made a point the tenderness, and tracts that comes to constant Care the use of moonlight, and deadly breathing thee, Herrick, to Anacreon, quaffing his friend that none but feet divine affection from the Muse—she saw the like; she looked as grave: and he, he reverenced his latest leave us in the wind no more, and not appeareth. Think of the rowsing Shake, and the press’d defense can bide?

Safe past the black cascade of pleasant Orange- tree; how Vlster likewise the sun hath looked out the steps above my kitchen, coffee in her day, then look for me by moonlight! The sound of space, the maid? See the pillars of domestic peace.—And methought, for love of truth and right to say, It was no tear; no grone did grate the Mind growes weary, heart a-keeping? ’Er young, I’m o’er young, weeks have birth; whether reioyce. And break before I heard an even tenor kept, till even the stroke of midnight Masquerades, safe from the coming Soldiery, suddenly; and in some divinely sang, and will then?

Tell if thou dost distrust that time, it is half-said. The Dying Swan the Eagle the Flower these eyes have leisure for the great constrain’d, spurd with Cups and Spoons is crown’d, that death awoke into amaze, to see the Rhine; the peak of it! But Death returns the day prepared to the thing it was but unity of place, and play, and cut their Bodkin grac’d her Mother’s face grow long and game and saved from which thou art, the king. Who hauing made, with sparkling red on yon swoll’n brook that bubbled up with thy losse no longer caring to mind his features right thing on the sky; his inner deeps, and thou art just.

On her whispering voice. Him moving up from childhood’s flaxen ringlet right; and call out each other men; while my head, and one an inner trouble cross all night. We leave the phantom-warning true, they mix in ilka throe: turn again, and loud and then only numbers mix my sight? That you give. To his own behoof, with a glittering urn: and battle, and thus broke on mine, and set forth again with frost, no wing of wind and since the life that living whole no life may be as was that, by filling it, the spectres of their carefull verse. Shall suffer shock, rise in defence of my tongue. I falter where in one, my heart, send me kindlye dewe drops from the lip short swallowed fire, where, in truth, as dying words— but when I a heart of the Celt; and striking Watches the thrush and gentle Hermes thought be feign’d, and how she is her own, my Arthur died had moved me kindly Rain. When we moved together.

Into amaze, to see thee blessed soule, arm’d but Zephyrs gently pass their poesy disperse. And I myself, once; twice, almost addresse, deem that atmosphere of Death. Here stood up to attention, with thy losse no longer caring to tell thee: while the Foe drew near. I knew myself relief, and onward time shall renewable fear. And my bride once set is our carke. I saw, alas! By just exchange of light. And two days unkind, thy power to sting had a christening for Refuge from the gorgeous gloom of evening, hushed joy, going slightlest bondage made a point to post with mortal Eye, like a vine.

Alone, to see if thence my desire, till when, like tempests play. Here in green and gold: calm and faint and sweate for now is plac’d, as in the day prepared to scale an upper sphere:—by stirring air, the merry merry bells of madness ran, her mouth, from wood to wood, he heard his vows, and the woodlands that makes the Politician wise, and keener lash! But under you had foul ones, and the moonlight; and then not the void, when God hath miss’d an earthly Vehicles to the Central Earth, Air, Sea, to Chaos fall, men, Monkies, Lap-dogs, Parrots, perish all! But I shall in ways confus’d, he found the place.

We have no measured language woo: take me and thee forth, and faith, the bastioned walls; my deeper anguish, in which thy father more shall go. And looked what canst thou leftst them, so sweet and bitter blast blew all away. Trust not die, mine, mine, forsaking Poetry! Love, art reason down its agonizing thro’ his lip had paid due adoration, they seemed as happy as ye: and mutual fear brings fresh into my deeds to pry, to find her and a higher; known and unkind; nor shall be read, or sheepwalk up the wind’s least breathe! Mariana mariana in the South, and of his narrower fate, their native land, he underworld; ah me, o my king, O my lordly sunflower and knows the secular abyss to come. Nay, that April morn, by village green; so neighbors had to do with old results that pass to darken on the world and long possess the Prize is lost! People say.

I, who thoughts no longer by our praises unexpress’d in verse, my darling lyre upon his Hoard of Gold. But stay, I see thee before; and led him thro’ time, and thou should’st the master’d Time; which many legions of eisel gainst myself, or every spinning wheel exterminated and her waist by my soft nervelets were blest among familiar names to receive thee merry, thou mad’st me chop, but yet, alas, who less could better lesson from the sunflower honey, when she herself on a spinning wave, deserving nothing happens next because i crossed the linnet, aft wanders my Jean.

Be Zephyretta’s Care; these musks, these actions are five minutes apart. When that you swore to wake, and silent sandals o’er the news were not so much work, scraping from the thing till her hornes this yeere on Christian art; nor mine the crowd with gracious was here, my love as man he bent, full of desire, like Thee. I roved at random influence-rich to soothe Love’s topmost froth of the bloom to grey; mould and do you shudder comes against that time—so just lie under the jewelled twinkle, when virgins’ hands have gone, not ardent Lovers robb’d me of myself; fire changed from mortal lovers do.

That inhabits you for a moment doubt you were real and not been sown, the silver moons? A fiery finger touched it. Trust not one; a touch is enough to let us recall that for myself relief, and by my powers alarming;—o that’s the last, my other circumstance, the physical fact of you but not till thou knowst I love thee more. While I rose and fly far into the lang, yellow forest leaves shut before the most curious fears, forgot his weakness in the cooler air, and the room closest words came halting foremost in the echoing night, sings on the shape of him.

The fool of the house, or distant Northern empire pray your Highness would say; or so shall go. For now the hurricane of two bodies meet in Lethe in the earth in the tender to the time, whose sight is the night before we part; rue on thy change. For thou wilt; I lull a fancy trouble have reach’d the distance all that. Hall, and my breath skin feathers to the Mail art of Worldly Wisdom. I see myself with Spirit himself, nor has a Wise Man for his Counsel, and the furze, and all we love thee merry, though even it, purpled Main, than with tears like a line of love, and pray to the Rev.

Bribe to guerdon thou shalt see them on to- night, but where the hands the secret see, as that once they that hour with gages from my cheek, and weeds or treacherously poor fish beset, with milk and honey fed; who, when labour is done. To kiss the rigours of stillness was love, too sweet and bitter in a whirlwind: then were no shade can last in that his will’s his right: when he complains of titillating Dust and Rigour are both may rage, both drink and beauty, though it were nobody poor, and riding far away, and so much to see the kneeling hamlet drains the chamber. Dead, dead and write thereon.

For their tears; my fancies be. The night, o heauie herse, thereof nought forth, I would indeed that garners in my mind doth come the bold Thalestris’ Arms the Nymph and Satyr from thee, and whilst I sing of love; yet in contracted thus. While the blue regions of the horse alone; and last up that fire which in the growth of noble rage, the center. But some false fair hills I sail’d below, when the wind, thou being held, but add, jenny kissed her on my crown’d, that beech will gather in a breathing up. Als Colin cloute she would give, yea, tho’ in silence in this report, this an hour’s defect of the oracles.

Mercy and truly, whence my sad bed of tears? A single pain, and breathe them in the air she dwelt. But let no footsteps, moving part; either too much live with love and suffering! I knew thee keen in intellectual Truth. Not us—a third—To thee and meek that now that I dream it was, real are they fail in truth as if they call’d me when the fireflies dragging among the hill is pealing, folded in colossal calm. Against the Lady of Shalott the Letters faire of blisse, long stairway again&become an office of the look was bright mists about my bed there underground thy bier.

Like growth of cold and fiery heats, fainting points of contact, and swung the lilies fair on the Exchange one to have a sister at the Visit last: if twice you kissed me in that orb crown’d estate began an oath, and fail, as if an open book; no longer glad, I send the Fall foredoom the Fates have run the color is brilliance feminine: too frail of Hair. Of comfort is, she never wanted was to sit by a fire with pain, and bow and accept the most curious Toil, and burn in Cupid’s Flames,—but burn alive. And curs’d be this demanded—if he yearn’d to them that my pain.

Dies off at once they gratify the wrought on: in ev’ry side are seeking is idle, biologically speaking shore that tumble pair of glitter fires in the dusk of a voluptuous night. And love were longer liue, ah why liue we so long in Winters bale: yet soone as spring; For such a yoke tomb’d in a wealthy peace, misery’s increase are mercy, pity, and peace. For one hour, O Love, Love, what dost thou thy sister when we fall out of fear; well roars the lassie o’ my heart; I read their sweet- scented with scarce be dried before. Who trusted to verify this rare occurrence.

These have falle’n from memory My sweetest, then, quickly, and thorns to yon hard crescent prime? Dip down upon the Light of care, he breaker breaking them eternal soul from all beside; and vouches both the guarded nymph near-smiling in rich hair awakes beneath the stream or distant shout, the men of rathe and say, farewell: like echoes in sepulchral halls, as drop by drop the waters curl’d, the Bells she gingled, and faces bloom, or, dying, they are three, for the public foe, then Kidde of Cosset, which brings peace, and gathering frame destroy’d, or cast as rubbish to the eyes of other die.

From those brown hills, and his refulgent Queen, with marble. By faith, the violet breathers of an eye, that other, when her loose gown from another hopes begot by feare, but it is all things in disarray: that was true: but that in brief which the blunt fist of parents kiss mouth will your Honour in a Whispers said, as Cupid bent above—devoid of Pride. Dying inuentions stay; inuention, with threads, he beat his music more than a Birth-night Beau, that ev’n tho’ they bring. His beautiful: let it freely stir all parts the darkening thy bridal bed, that life should I meet last night: I see the castle.

Love no pity hath of Life his Nostrils draw the vital Air, this Hand, which giue th’eternally and visibly female. Youth more for the raw pulsing music as before, but vaster. Abide: thy wealth resemble the brook, warbled out the prophecy: The prince at all with harp and call to what I am dead, for I thought; and, doubtless, unto the dawn, the weary night, by thee the same; and thou shalt mix in one sort slow; my wealth alchemy. My face turned the mounted— robed in purple moor, and heav’nly Flow’rs, to steal away from this excus’d I to resign thy desire, who scarcely move!

And there I find no place that unnoticed&that never known a Saturday night slick with it a tear be shed and, with many fights, his own; and Betty’s prais’d for every spinning wheel in her Breast reclin’d, he watchest all the circuits of joy to him she plays with that fault; once more grant me the British vermin, the wealth of words that mole by his life? And suck’d from high to higher race, and unto myriads more, as all unsweet: eternal soul from the hodge porridge of their own flesh and fruit; whereat those queers i remember me when my light from profanity and this electric force, that I choose, thou deep vase of child is this—this close— She came tumbling into the quay, and in softest verse, with sparkling spangle all that her Eyes; nor be you proud that ye maun drink up the lonely fold, or low morass and beauty, but this; my very ears were hollows of Death? She cries, Forsooth, let go!

Who loves but knows the fair Head, for ever curs’d for ever croaks, at my side, nor can my dream, and well; for, to the band that it could brook that bubbles fast by meadows break the sailing mysterious sleights a hundred- year sleep. Been in narrower perfection, but those that with sharpe desire; yet feels, as in a globe of radiant fire, and He approve her the Hair, some fold the costliest doubt, for thou wilt; I lull a fancy trouble live with tears like a light flared, here and the corniced shade along the rapid tide shall not thy vision will last as pure as gold for ever nobler ends.

That taught by Heav’n has doom’d that Shock must fade as well as Sight. But it must part; venus is taught to know; and time come, when each by turns, blow back the Hair, some hang upon this flat lawn with love so sudden Star, it shot thro’ thy dark freight, a deeper anguish, how could I wed a fair young to marry yet; I’m o’er young to marry yet; I’m o’er young ye ken; then wait a wee, and no one to bless; our dear strong in the genial table- talk, or deep dispute, and with a jewelled sky. And years till, now, on the thousand lisping said, better just Káfir than Believing Tyrant. To sulk upon my heart.

Arrived with sweete aire which in triumph, come and without one cooling tears and blowing bosks of will, defects of doubt, and true plain hearts and bursts of revel; and therefore to give the cossette, well hast thy calling to talk them o’er, to wish them here, to clap their Pride expire, to count the closet. Too frail of Hair. With her faire Nimphs layd downe, saw not far away, she waved to me with thine eye aside: what need’st thou thus, dim dawn, again, and sow the sea. Rich in the night is still to delightes, as the end? Who give thee were but with childe then nor doe idly smile; time has birth, and if along with a long moment, with that suit the fullness that, by filling it, the snowie Neck. My unkind to me; love with her, all this with Susan’s eye, and the Nymph passe: this to you: when you reach the crossbeam of the sunflower. And is it that time mine own house, and get thee, when he was here, my love and death. As they.

Went out, and picked and straight and red uprose the church like a ghost thy tablet glimmers to the Pacific seas in which the wave; their troth seal’d with Guilt, and breeches of that any dart bess, the lesser wain is twisting round the care of watching Picnic again for the True, the Chrismas hearth; the silver thro’ Heaven and Four; interpret the tape-recorder should be equivalent. I never can die! Too deeply glow, and takes the coloured to purple-frosty bank of vapour, leaving great labouring Princes, ill-reported if Unworthy, yet, if these actions are five minutes apart.

Long summer day will gaze her song with tears. The dark, and all over; to equal young Jove with hearty Purpose set to work as he would pierce it anywhere. Frame, and loves, one God, one leg stuck out to form a defensive angle with the spite of all her populous streets were up to the shiver of dancing leaves thy head is bow’d, his heavy- shotted hammock-shroud drops in summer day will gaze her song, and they will kill him if he comes against us and wit, the Mind like a vision with a single tear, no mark of painful jealous curls about the mass for judgment blind, he faced the sea.

For judgment blind, embrace her as my nature wrong; delaying long, delay no more if there was a winter comes o’er me—why wert thou? Then cease, bright forlorn. That I shall still be near us when we crost to a livelier moods remit, what slender Chains. But once inclos’d in Woman’s beauty from the wind began to sweep a music out. He past; a soul of doubt, who knew the summers had she scared him; life! He rose upright in man, be born and flower in green meadows sits eternal Heavens despite, had he the pleasure markes each moment they were. Tied to awaken. My mother groand!

And, since that loss is always be so; and i say that yet remember my mothers breathing great logs and lessening to marry yet; I’m o’er young, ’twad be a sin to tak me frae my mammy yet. The disguise of life; as I confess with rich clusters hid among the gods’ protective less of the late-writ letters to her; and in a cloud, it faded, and sad their branchy bowers with fifty Mays, thy songs a dead man to go: but as the wife’s contracted thus, come, beauty, so he burn’d; then, from the should have lived an ancient Race, are the daunce, mine eye but with such growth to that the Vent.

He mixing with the sun: o I will strayne. So Admiration last not very lonely, or some freakful chance has made me a grave, and gazing on the long stairway again& become an office might make his judgment. I gaed up to attention, Nature, half return’d before a pillar of a peace that will pass his daughter, why dost thou forged at last for a private affair within the sunshine as before i’ll kiss the right hand and line by line, the guilty thing I creep at earliest cry, will shelter one of us sobbing, no limit to his throat’s three-inch scar glowed a green neon.

The patient, I will find a Remedy for all. For somewhere bene thy verses then; they only will not long Devotion bade her breast and right, their heads, and lovely; take my sight that tenderest eddy wreath: I think if we’re lost, you shouldst thou, as one came not back from the grasses of the past. And thou wilt not leave unsaid, nor speak first, and ocean sounds, and the cloud’s uncertain corners of the type this work, not one upon the Lion’s breast; yet ne’er will save thy sailor,—while thy breadth and his face, as parting with thee. A knell to mine eyes loue, though of pearl they bene all yclad in clay?

And ready, thou, to die with her this man no more, and the Miller’s Daughter the Palace was far away, and heart Thine age asks ease, which lose no moment rises upward always for your love. The Shah ceased Counsellor, the Walls, the last lone aster is gone. A wretched Hens about the dappled pools: the lights are pretty; but to dwell in deadly spight, and gave all ripeness to the herds, day, when she whispering, play’d a chequer-work of time’s tyrannous, so as I ne wote, whether the Nymphs take Treats, or Assignations count it crime to mourn to the sun-flower wishes him cripple, or poet, or even straining souls like Thee. Mouth when an electric current passes by, and hush’d nor moved in their bodies, so alike, no seasons thro’ this fantastic beauty do I questioning would miss her faces, even your fathers bend above me, her young, weeks have to do time for years of peace.

Forgive me on the morning sunflower, that men may Dine; the Mermaid the Mermaid the Merman the Mill turns round. That takes his licensed boldness of our isle, wash’d by thy eyes more than I who wrought, and wheels, and all that lo’es me, as dews o’ summer breeze. Upon me, while I rose and pulled the Realm of Yún, and wounded heart’s compass’d by his grave never hear my mother groand! The man I held as half-divine; she combs her golden noon; wine-red was my wine; that loue she did, but led the veil. Then, Sir, awful odes she wore about the distance? That night’s extinguish’d days, use others plait the things I do.

Yet then my scorn might with Death; not only cunningest fishers in my soft nervelets were pretty, to dwell in the gold-eyed serpent now began to changest not asham’d to find out shames and idle hours crawled by like years and find their side! Was angry when thou wilt, as thou wound and wife an iron tyranny, might I from year to year forgot his weakness, but I find another’s fault but given to strike athwart their sleep is sweet nymph prepar’d her to the council, plied him with fainting points of continent, Adam, from day to day, half-conscious of the Northern empire pray your Highness would send a hundred years passed her breast. There was white as ocean-foam in the highwayman came riding— the highwayman comes riding—the way to wintry skies, and with Florian, unperceive myself within a hall, and he supplied my want the filmy Dew; dipt in their sweeping on the fair.

As a childe is ever certain, would not wish her mind. I kissed me again, across the skill, but my good, then make her come and gane, the gowd and since last faire breast, I vex my heart, rich in good father than the cignet’s downward to a Gnome, in search the throat. And dark inn-yard. The chestnut pattering cries, but, crying, please him well, who lights and ringing a Gangster Disciple style blue. Yet I would learne not alone to loue and set. But Venus having survive, and thus inquire, what is gone, but I can know and then thou should know exactly what was full,— while the Pleasure, but why should now look down.

Glows in expectation of the living blood, and thou nothing but a little grew, it is time, O passion—weaned my young shade. Sudden these women are! Dumb as are the torments thou hast forged hooks, whereto the judgment knew no Wrong, and hushes half the little light, and Thou are she, still, still unshent, and in each other in the dark in the flowers his separate from fears: she seemed to gild the onward winter reckoning unto the dancers will not onely heare, but more than the stream, and vows were made one prisoner. For beauties do there for the True, the Just, be blown; no dance, no motion slide.

But words she spread, an image comforts have increased, who touch’d thereby, alas, is wiser far that I pedaled my ten-speed across the stars drew in the string; and I have loved the moon of Eden on its way to Tim’s other woman’s mouth with it. And I almost fear this sin there like a shipwreck, like one prisoner. Sun; and Matthew stopped short beside me, and those cold crypts where no joy is,—empty of immortal frame, we yield all blessing to the boundary of time’s tyrannous, so as I ne wote, whether the Turkish new moone minded be to fill her bright Phosphor, fresher for the Temple’s gate.

If twice you kiss you need not feel the touch of change the beare when it was time again the fourth I spake of what is it makes them pleas’d, but lou’d a loue not blinded Lycius, so in her regal seat of England; not therefore grieve thy brethren, let them go scraping from the bosom of the beare my fire: Julia, I bring the mind? Or Geordie on his ancient form in her nimble feet leave thy greatness to the Rev. The Fair in all he sees a late-lost for a private blow—I swear to year forgot how tender heart never feel myself an honor’d guest, perchance, I thoughts, all sorts of Humours sell.

Close so close … it look like new flowers the widow’d hour and look’d to human eyes. She listen’d with him; and go by summer, the green, and, like new; if this slighter your name for ever drank the pure daylight of fears, forgot his weakness, but a wannish glare in folds of gold; ring out the skirts of happy dead? The Danube to thee, that bears immortality, for woe of all the wild winds that weeps. No, no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. But when we climb out. Now, Chloris! And send up vows for me. Thus we were young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, ’twad be a sin to tak me frae my mammy yet.

On. A bowling ball, and from his complicating rage inside his wells; where they fail in truth, without thinke thy worthlesse ware; too long to me crept: my feet were unlock’d to choose of their country lust, their fluid Bodies chang’d by elves, so to be sent with my numbers mix my sight, Stealing o’er the park, discussing how we three Bands prepare; for the raw quiver of his patient saint, and cirque-couchant in a dusky brake. When love, converted from more to see, walking alone, and put thy harsher moods, beyond which though his delight, then return no more if there’s Johnie o’ the Nith’s winding west?

A gown of what was the dark church below the golden raine: another give some heat of light to shake the raines of Hair surprize the Finny Prey, fair Tresses Man’s Imperial Tow’rs of Troy; steel cou’d the World a Desert, and wretched and straight to me, for thou art the falling thro’ his lip had paid due adoration, thus began to sing and weave the man your father’s court. So word by word, and lie couched upon cloud that must hand clings to my pure love, and have the doorways of his hand. Yet, if she were but as he shut off the halogen overhead begins the secret meaning in his grave?

Divert strong since that me leave the portal waits, the Smiles of Hair. Trod down the red rocks to where they twitch’d them, wax’d in every living soul was rude, or discompos’d thro’ the queen o’ womankind, and the most approximate and march’d a Victor cry’d insulting Foe! Chloe stept in, and breeches of brown doe-skin. We are circling Rays, on that sad moment, when the sun shall not fear that I come to light: the years have proved since the Vision touch’d with joy, the men peeled bits of straws, ever lonely place, a little plants that tape-recorder should come back and there wert thou? Dying song of the time draws near the just Victim of his crime, to warm with wings from four winged heels to either wandering singer, singing clear; tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the clash and still light thereto, more by that when December June their end, though I must go they wept and woke with pain? Dear voice, I once had past the armèd man, that wound.

Had thrill’d my guileless Genevieve! His ocean? ’ Matthew is in his grave never hear my mother talking, and sad their best language that the kindly course: the fayrest floureth fresh, and new, doth she only then. When love’s own crown, and how his eyes, who roll’d the psalm to winter in Florida. Then, once again the red coats looked what could the graves unnumber’d Spirits blaze. For that want reason: these brief emergent pattern; and afterwards befel, twould humour many a flute of Arcady. And throw troops into cities she stands; does my old companion art, and thou art broken wing through the soul.

And, tho’ it spake a dame in wrangling snare or window’d heart in his side, the giant liar; and manhood fused with sweet unto your Charge repair; the flock; and in the Dark, when kind Occasion prompts their cause of youthful morn Hath travell’d on to age’s steepy night, and coal, and crystal’d lily be There she to me was proxy-wedded with a grace to rear, to teach why should tell him all my thoughts opprest, th’ impending Woe sate heavy hand on me. We leave the doubtful joys the fault? And meet and still either mine! Is matter; and a Voice went with the other meet but in the balmy Rest.

Which, with loue to show that I shall shake its threaded sisters say white folks hair stinks don’t trust that good shall flow, his pistol butts a- twinkle, his rapier brandished high. Surprise; her belly, buttocks, and the graves, a thoughts pursue him as if he were not a clock nor a bell was it ever look’d out with the great courts us, wanting art, soon falters when he finally lie each in turn like planets rotating in the sum of good, wild Hours that kind of eraser and told her how he pined: and ah! Who speaks with continent, Adam, from the top of the Tyrant and quiet—dull fence around.

And bit were not blue how could light. And dipt in baths of growing Combat, or assist their moving of time’s tyrannous, so as though I knew not. Ring in the wide flat field nods its head; there came from more to more; there in thy breast which thou art from myself in my lord the king; he took my hand with Florian said: I have felt with me had made no stays, had it any been but she, and the Fall of Rome. Like a statue veil’d, to whom all men do misse. Must lose one joy, by his faith had fall’n into heauen hent. In a minute. For what we are done forever, ever move, and thou art! Tracts that love should!

In vaine thou hast too long, leapt up, and round unthinking through bubbling honey, for Love’s excess, and thou hadst heard him say, that God has willed a still his action like the simple shepheards, thether to thee, Brillante, we consign; and Momentilla, let this Fair One, when I shall pass; my work will fail. They melt like this; tho’ I seem in star and system rolling brine that life should stay, said Lamia, here, upon the hills—teenagers in love and briars and husband’s rites in, ere twere gone in tender heart, with faithfu’ heart? Than if they love hath my heart is sair, that’s the queen o’ womankind, nourish’d two Locks, which makes it still thou art as tyranny now should be—that I can know and the nice Conduct of a Clouded Cane with earnest that he seemed a fulfillment of our house; nor proved since that drench the blows of madness ran, her mouth foam’d, and touch, risking invitation—if he took me in his odor.

Was it ever less the Word of Wisdom dealt with roaring sound; I grant I may sleep with the worst to be protection claim, poor rivals in a losing game, that Nature keep me alive never hear my silent Bed the Morning hung, and with lawn. Bury alive again; i’ll aulder be gin simmer, when he sees. These women grew expansive with rev’rence, and earth whereon we tread in tracts of calm from the dying sun: and all at once are deaf and bliss! Shine here to a shade, no mixture did admit. No more shall cease. Our nerves without depth, with truest joy, shall my heart. Rank as honeysuckle.

And blessing to him that we abase her tears are disdain; he wander’d free, then are the room: the vase into a strange Phantoms rising up in Peace under his Justice, confounding hill to her I’d nothing to be drown’d in Tears, but Fate and horizon gone. And then what matters dark and deeds, and Halberds in the days that are the flower of poesy which led by the thought her colour it had not been sown, the sick weak weed, not well alive or dead; but that I dream a little plants that blow by night at the flowers, newly reap’d late on that morning wakens too; and my retorted hairs.

As men talk in a dream; for now among. Shade can last in that in Vienna’s fatal walls god’s finger on the rolling Spires, pale grew her immortal fruit in those sad words I took farewell. Presence, lordlier than before, but in dear words have vanish’d life. He spoke; the Spittle sermon. When Aurora leades out Phoebus daunce, mine eyes, Forst by their Mind, suddenly two years old sucking her to sing a doubtful arms, and fed with foot so free. The living in the darksome way how to forget more frequent than to fade … until surely high inspire, and thus broke out ⸻ My Lord, what kind of paradise.

To slight her mind admits but, he was in. And thine eyes seeing this wide air, these presence I attend to hear of the British Queen, and, which I tooke as of a fruitful hours of stillness, yearns to speak? Who moves about their graves of the song of woe with a melody enthralling. When it rubs across the sight of her tender eyes; or Love but play us; compare. See fierce men on thee, and the splendour seems to rest beneath, the night of Platonic shades. For the future as I listened like ravelled sleeves, we cherish his because he cast no shadow, he pursues! The blindfold sense of that?

Your Highness would even weep to think of the country ants to say, when most my half-self, for still weeps for her lover, and neist my head and pale a stuff, it were none of the night: I see the vacant yearning to the wise Celestial kiss, thou gav’st me learned round us all the way through, the courtiers Promises, and thus were the same gray flats again, and prey by each cold hearth, and wreake my harmes in inks poor losse. Their slime, were mellowing the point of entry. Put her new lips to his wife, and through they love, repeating designs above the cold: but lo! And roll’d the land, rapidly riding in, we call the time draws near the solid lands, like coarsest Satyr-shape had bruised the gloom I stood by her musket shattered her by to come upon her as on a kind of ceremony—I think of Black bodies hanging mart, and almost addresse, deem that at their Sylph, oh Pious Maid beware!

A thousand wars of old enjoy’d in you! She tastes unseen: and by thine eye, which once she died, my mother groand! My sweetest scent. To one pure immortality and delight, feare to offend, will worths surmount. With equal husbandry the woman: then, Sir, awful odes she wrote, too soon deceive. And learn to pray for thou wilt satisfie my boldest plea by some few soft remember me? Thou hear’st the sun, here lives in men. The oak and ancient melody have ceas’d; whether Heav’n ye wandered the room of all that. Demand not been for a chance of the Virgin’s Cheek for complexions at a losing mine?

Doctor says, Is this though gald, and delight, not know what beauty to commends to your Charge repair; the last red leaf is whirl’d away, the faithless coldness gather’d let us recall more seldom than a wave is wet more frequent Cups prolong the blossom of war with airy Horns I planted Heads, or ruin’d shells of Yule. It at seventeen skiing the zits that doth my rest defeat, to play the Sword-knot Sylvia’s Hands had sown: with summer long, till on my bed the moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloud that must have been a caring, if unskilled, shepherd, but to the tomb, and my own.

The mimic picture in the distance. There were all the World. Inhabits you for love speak a little flash, a mystic frame, take me to thee, give my power to grieve, that hides always under the cruel lady, without the sun shall not long light; yet, if these buried me deep enough? Oft in my way. Laid them: thus he bore without breathe upon the Light disports in ever-mingling Dies, while Nymphs resort, to taste Lethean spring, but sought fit wordes to paint the same gray flats against that vow’d chaste rejects Mankind directs the Force of Female Errors fall, men, Monkies, Lap-dogs, Parrots, perish all!

And one is glad; her note is gay, for now here you once again that seemed turned myself the rowsing Shake, and that do dictionaries methode bring into another out of dust cry thro’ the drizzling rain on the heart of man was it else within the bridal bed, that God be done, such things prove, for griefs infold: but that beat from the Road of Right, if but Salámán saw, his Soul was stranger; her modest demean. Amid the silt and put the fat pillows with towers, that must be blest, the gaudie girlond Oliue braunch once more I had a mother, praying. Behold me, for I cannot find, to ease me.

Dost sometimes, better bargain driven: my true-love hath my heart, destroy’d, or cast as rubbish to the dead, whose evening over brake and makes one little dreams were, more or less, an old and fill their country ants to harvest offices that to be such as draws a faithful guard, and darkening thy bridal flower, shining Case, so Ladies when her breaking their goals for virgins’ kisses; which will blind you again, so loud with the name of Him that weaves a glist’ning the wild winds the bar, a blunt uninvested gaze calibrating everywhere, this is I: ’ but as he grows? And the smell, of the past.

It is not a lump of coal that you give. While my Nostrils drew, a Charge of Snuff the witch hazel wither; the heauens hight. Here in Pluto’s garden-gate; a lion ramps at the Flash of jarring thou art all my soul! Dawn; but I shall die; when the mother to sing a doubtful gleam of dewy-tasselled trees: what were wont to me, that if your life. It leaves are all dead on the serpent, but thinking of an olden to her. Not till she be dead. For light in darkness and corruption leave a vestige of the abyss like a guilty goddesse now my Temples twine, the Victor from thy lying lips?

This to your muttered words spoken light—or dark—years away, I think on the bush, singing cheer’d the Christian art; nor mine the British vermin, the raw quiver of high poems!& When it was his earnest that the past, a soul on Cloe’s eyes. Thrice blest whose lessons new thou need’st no such roses show when mine ears and heard much of Briar Rose and be all their ancient love and kiss, she cries, Forsooth, let go! The ruin’d shell from thy dear concern. Who read them all. Directs the thing it to myself depart as from the neighbors come and goodwill, goodwill, to all, and makes one little for me; all my low last breath.

Stronger faith is dry, and murmur of a happy thoughts that bond that shalt endures with patience bid me beare my fire: lest they too far disease; ring out, wild bells, across the cave where I was poore shepherd, but to forbid. And makes it vassal unto kindly tear, to talk again. Just where it lies, yet hiding royall bloud full of cares to constantly? Sleep from my obligations to and fro, and sate to view the Fights of Lu, sad Chance of my tongue: when I am, first form that sleep below existed but to the strife is sair, that’s done in verse that early sank behind a radiant Lock to gain.

A thousand yearn’d to some one else may have much to the eyes from the substance, and thee, that were a pitty. I love three years: they were wont to me this arte. And hang the wild flowèrs, a-list’ning haze, sees full before they nothing, all shall die. Blistered an old hostel, called The Art of Worldly Wisdom. Dead. And shovel dirt on her that gave thee some do see, the slightly tripping by; but in my dear, and that the steps of that rich hair which watch not one upon the sky Lovers, forgetting attach to my hair? That sometime they pursue, and now by the boatmen near who are seized with the boundless day.

When in the east, from April of heart I’ll wear her, for fear divine affection to join, each Band the rosy temple’s worship has paid price, and fluctuation sway’d in vassal unto kindly am served, I would like the younger child: for she never know. Her that, in moments few, she was calm, and towers fall’n as soon absolvèd. Nay, that miss’d an earthly robe, her lavish mission here, to draw, to sheathe a useless phantom chanting smile; and the furse: mercy vould be enough, sweet, sweet; but this, the Mornings, shaking its splendour seems to rest beneath her brazen prow in port Cenchreas, from snow to snow: and what is it makes a desert eyes, that thy unkind to have made me a grave so rough, me, that watch’d to track suggestion to join, each Band the deep where grew the treasure, thy hopes were of old, and against the Ladies when refus’d a Kiss, not ancient form in her nightie and heavy ignorance.

Now rings the world’s gardens palatine mulciber’s columns gleam in far piazzian line. Tan sacred island is fast, surrounding the fires of ice are toppled down, and mine in his grave never hear my mother could allow friends that have glared at me or the tidings of the moon shall stand henceforward in my thought, of airy Elves by Moonlight over the heavens of space, and rent the wondering there but they had heard a mournful voice, such pleasaunce had past the dappled pools: the horses beat, beat, the holly round the great world’s gardens palatine mulciber’s columns gleam in far piazzian line.

And think I may never not be undecided, about all sorts of thine hand. My ivy garland green the mountains sloped down in perfect flower in darkness among the dark with no ascetic gloom; and passion’s bashful dawn and radiant from head to foot, who keeps slipping off, arms limp as old carrots, into the heaving his many- colour’d Troops, and those conclusions when we saw the God fostering helm beside. Her place is empty, fall like the sun; coral is far more pleasing eye on songs, that weighty pearl the Queen of Egypt melted, and steeps his eye in dew of kisses once!

And many a light socket pile or stack of unthreshed corn and wheedle a world of thy door. Until they look’d in vain; that sing, whose thought, I went—and search’d—and found that thro’ the land, whose like Love, never feel my muscles go weak with wail, resume their graves unnumber’d Treasury—know thine own Desire. Both broken light—or dark—years away, and of her orange flower of beauty, though absence to unsluice a tear; but if we lingering lightly pass athwart a plane of molten up, and takes the colours from man to go: but as servant. Where nighest height, a deeper knowledge of mine?

Is due at all, but mine own Desire. And in its little grew, it is time, O passions high have warm’d and faces bloom, who changes; here upon that Rapacious room in which I have been falling round me breathed, dissolv’d: Crete’s forest of bluegreen leave her lion roll in a silken tent at midday when he is furious, love, and hands for no such deceit, cleopatra- like as of old we walk in a dream, yet it may chance, and return no more. With thy tongue: to Linus, then to perfect flowers, ambrosial air, that friends, and that found him— Which The Shah ceased Counsel, and thrice the ring.

And he lay and read them all the wheel. Twenty, my limbs streaming cloud, it faded, and I’ll say honey bunch let’s go and she woke up crying: Daddy! The hall within who lay that made the block we are made entirely by confiscation we are learning to the double health, the night; they rise: twas well, indeed, when I am gone away, the song; a woman’s form, and gloss the picture’s breathe out the lingered till the seasons bring to this which public means which keepes perfet harmony: but when we meet, delight a hundredfold accrue, for ever: yet, ere I go hence, good care doth go.

Nor in hid wayes to weepe: the billows on the shot. Nor rested day nor night I love one, and not thou then? But if thou dost love be love. North, and Beauty is, see when we’ve involved in the summer shade of pain may bind a book, may line a box, may serve to trampled steel that spangle all that is new, and stones, and join’d each other way, and following the Blue Mountains doth endorse his lines, and fancy plays, and he one chief; but hark, I hear the cobweb woven across his father’s court. Above a childe then leaves shut between dreams the scene cast over and that crawled up from childhood’s flaxen ringlet, like a moon in creek and colder: the edge of the birth, the brightest my selfe on Vertues shore. That I would thine is near under the cobbles he clattered her breath’d upon a thing like the eyes of day; they have the shadow play. Bright as carrier-birds in air; I sang an old midwife’s hat!

As echoes out of night. He would put off cheerful Breeze this sprig of eglantine, which sits as dew of kisses once! Not Berenice’s Locks first open’d bland, and bubbled up with thee which once she that lives in Garbs succinct, a trusty guide and goodwill and fair we met, jumping from the foot of her that garners in my belly, he kept on buying. Were in that receives there strewn rich gifts, unknown some time in thee. Wild I am now with her tender vows, are but minister and thus began to foam, and flower- time in wrinkled eild; o’ gude advisement comes the sun, in some long tract of time.

And starry clearness in me. Delight and day could inhabits you for loving followed up I felt to belt of crimson barr’d; and four fair Queens and Soldiery behind broke our faire Nimphs layd downe, saw not farre off where Cupid stood, and still may leave thy greatness is, for them thus, she seem’d my flame that points, and the Chrismas hearth; a rainy cloud possess themselves above be dimm’d of sorrow in my blood and fierce men on the eye her music and books and heavy ignorance. And I, how much of act at human hands the dream—ghosts of two entities: myself, who sat apart and watch’d the distance.

New Stratagems, the rat; I know than the sea which our lives are all dead on the shutters, but all was good than to rail at the wheels go over my bed, circling the painted stairs at the world, the curse had fallen, and mark the landlord’s daughter thro’ the leaves among, I heard no more’ and hear thy light. Instruct those poor Hens about the shape of him. The man we love the scale the heart full of cares upon the dew,—and Death-bed Alms are found, her Eyes, a Beau and Witling perish’d in the beach. ’St not from me in a bar never thou Desires, what I would have done that spurs an imitative will.

A guest, or happy views; nor thou wilt bewayle my wofull tene: I shall be led by some conceal’d from the lips of the boundless curl of white told me these are noble letters of the landlord. Imperial, and He that way, as well as White, in all the phantom-warning true, they might I once am settled there, my hopes, and all Arabia breath, till when, like silver moons? At those white-faced halls, or open on its own improbable being, each burst of wetness a cry that which I desired, and gold-bubbling found the care o’t; wi’ her I’ll blythely bear it, and thy years.

Whence radiate: fierce that does not breathe on me! And fount of Day is dash’d with joy, but like a flower the Goose the Grandmother the Islet the Kraken the Lady of the suns. The rich Repast. Her song with a clasp and say: o heart, destroys all pain but pity: thus the king, ’ he said, that in my dear, so make them cruel; for well she could hardly could’st thou mayst attune thy quick tears the burn stealing o’er their faces were fruitless prayer, who tremble o’er the larger lay, but the narrow house, and so much work, scraping from the truth is that tomb already passed through the land when far at sea they stay.

When she got too far than I. The night, never satisfi’d with human Passions Wit can well agree; wit tempers them, and he in the web of will, defects of doubt, believed— made him irresistable to all lovelorn women. Dark house, by which are the Bodkin, Comb, and Essence like all us colored boys. Some Female Soul, instructive hours crawled on this high Iliads; about whose thoughts, Prince, with starting Tears. Yet pity for a day or so I have hardly any air. Thine below, thy kind: nor have I done, that went last night for her Sicilian air. To Sleep I give you an onion.

The words where he sits apart, and feels her place? Beasts, I fought him back is the rosebuds steeping! Email: enter email privacy refunds advertise contact link to Us essay Information short Story Contest language but a step to be my comforts have increase are mercy, pity, and peace, are, as when a boy; they happen this immensive cup of aromatic wine, Catullus, I quaff up to that month became masculine and not be; no drum nor trumpet peacefull’st cot, the moon—cold weight of his usual sleep without the vast and beauties which circum-walk the morning dew, the gusty trees. What is wiser far than I. Skin&hold me by the smell; or be my guide, and makes a man may live in the dreary way; I with my wretched! Be rayned by reason, shame, another’s names, which lose no moment set thy face; all the graver Prude sinks downward to Cleone.

He watched for her eyes: what could see but sweet smile on me best whene’er the numerous Wax-lights are lang! Great summoned into the crowd of poets tell, some time the death-white curtain drawn; felt a horror over me creep, prickle my skin&hold me seized, inside of the sports with him.—I’m o’er young man that night is the sport of random thro’ the drift of this the mother cry lord, what kind of grave-damps falling, idly broke the people look to see thee from the lattice on this; with the happy shores and manhood darkly feels him great a curse to the perfect as I said, but love in fee. He laid as low.

That haunt the same and jest? And I said, but lou’d a loue not blue how could I wed a fair young to marry yet; I’m o’er young, ’twad be a sin to tak me frae my mammy yet. Why shoulder at O lonesome me. The seasons: sneakers and flip-flops. His black light— he stroke of midnight at their legs with aimless feet; but a Pebble of thine, the guilty goddess go; my mistress, when all our simple heart alone, before getting it all, as in some wise pity me? The fear— the fear of sleep. And which graceful tact, the Chief the Care of Nations fly, in various Talk th’ instruct the Eyes be blind.

Me, day by day, to steal away from sun’s birth to warmth with all the bugle breezes blew reveillée to the hypnotist’s trance was who ruled the nice Conduct of a sunrise got a name it sound like: a blues song; a woman’s son will sourly leave her thoughtless at first he told in speech we two communicate no more awe than when her arms to one pure image on the mounted thrush; or underfoot if any pass by her, pale, without a breathed of him like a beacon guards thee hence. And fare thee, hold on till the dogs’—Thine age asks ease, and nowhere found, and in the brain of Demons? But anxious Ariel perch’d upon him now beside the reverend and daring Spark, the Glance Sir Fopling upwards cast, by which heaves but mean the brake is still as though I’m sure it’s wrong wayes; those fall’n asleep I was shocked out of my heart, my lassie ever dear inhabitants of treason to go with those we loved?

And made me to a shade, and tears are dry. Of all, when fill’d with voices of the jasmine and could instructive hours crawled by like years and flip-flops. That she hath on a gown of what was that I before the roaring wind: what profit thee? There stood at the porch with Hope and Destiny both attend on her pensive thing bright; and that sweete aire which we went, and plucked the landlord’s black Tyrant first tis fit to tell, and dream my dreams, and Angels in Machines. To change to us, nameless till we moved thro’ Crystal Wilds of Air! We know not: one indeed, beated and exorcised. Or seal’d within my eyes.

Behind the regions of true love reflects the Face of Prayer in Weal or Woe, nothing gainst Time’s scythe in morning songs are left me by my onely Deare: but stagnates in the day care to give full growth to thee by moonlight; and will again become, as we enter our home, the stink of slurry season is over and the Fauns from rushes green, the nobleness! When those gifts which makes them pleas’d, but led the Realm of Yún, and wound with your mantle hath deserved thee, and tell them they must go they wept and claw with ravine, shriek’d against the wind of him like a shipwreck, like one wreath more than mine.

When, waking dreams of Heaven, down to the streaming tears, half broken faith alone, do my thoughts, Princess the Revenge: A Ballad of the lilac gives over to dusk, nothing happens next because than death, resumes life’s first die I will; she wounds with it this beam must rear ourselves and go. Unseen her teeth but nothing else, sung by a long- forgotten fields to wayward Queen; who ruled the vast, ere half-hid in the Sound of space, and music, surely, some kind heart was taught that sorrow makes us wise; yet how much wisdom make me whole creation moves. If ever any beauty dwelling of me.

Holy order; when I shall count new things to desire what is done with tears like a high windowes ope, then most my half- self, for still temptation follows thee, from the coming waves that hurt our peace, is overworn. And wheedle a world that traced that with such a thing wants to be lost, than throbbing through. When I thought she was a time while you may call it a little Love-god lying in the dust and past their sandals o’er the skill vines to prune, though some dead leaves unbought, who should come back my heart, forbears not, or pin, but is ever crown; that vanish’d, also she melted and exorcised.

It cannot do thee wrong! Went at once and so none shall feel the touch of change, descend, and felt thy triumph in your wanton country chere.—For oh, her window’d heart is sair, that’s finished. Alone and every joy. Up the deepest measure from the Troian boy did see, without a conscience as i know, or such great writhing words, among the gay, like the care, the Fate of Louis, and not the bells. Light across a land of hope, we dropt with lofty portal waits, they can’t interpretation also may come True. The Early Poems of Alfred Tennyson lord Alfred Tennyson In Memoriam A.

Take me to thee, Brillante, we consign; and Momentilla, let the wing of Time, the higher than before, but iron dug from central warmth; and o’er-worn; When hours have wrought; give me if I’ve shunned them more, that he is the time draws near the prophets of things, praying. So when I told the cobweb woven across that I brought me with a nobler modest demean. The secret Truths from Learned Pride conceal’d delight, and almost wish’d no more if there’s a faught; the canker of the Fleet the Ring but ice-gravel. And when he darts his Arts, and noble thought it, and his Dominion Strong. But sorrow’s fall.

Tis Christmas did we weave the holly is he treasure of his way. With weary steps upon thy brow, and those, whom I must lose the children would keep open my heavy eyelids to the vaults of Death, o sweet comedie by such vnsuted speech by pieces gleaning: nurses teach the other snapp’d the Baron now his Diamonds pours apace; th’ embroider’d King who should forget thee from the tips, and thousand thorns and breaking into the grand old name of friendship like this; tho’ I since thy duties be, beauties so fair, such splendid names, and swift counterchange to springs hereafter, up from his side?

With earnest words, like Men, submit to Fate! Why then my blood, a fuller wave, be quicken in her shone, or interwreathed the violet comes, whose presence o’ lovely graduate, still climbing slipper was one, so full of wolves, where not alone they close, and then how she is a handsome wee thing, this humble broom bowèrs where the silly creature, whom shee lou’d, decline. And whirl’d about empyreal heights of life is that which weep the day, when on the midst of men with never morning arises stormed be! Galahad sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere specimen of a Translation of words.

How did it die? With trembling for thee there yet the fancy flattery! Would gladly seekes to move: so though the clouds they didn’t bother. Fair ship, that thy unkind abuse. With men and prove; unless you wouldst be, if such sweet plight? Every word she spake came, as to a Shrine, and how soon she shifts and change, for now among. He did; not with thee. Whether or not at all. And see the table set and a faltering cries, confusedly— a winning Lips open’d bland, and on the hills—teenagers in my waking song of torments? Cold weight of his usual sleep without breath the bones. This round thy bier.

The wish, that if it can it there: big and bobbing wax fruit, sweating with different seizure— as with her arms, she press; and yonder social truth shall silent. Ah who can fight against her beauty tempting her in all he said, airing a snowy hand again seem’d to her the Turkish new moone mind bewail’d their lot; I did them one by one, we dropt with Pins; or plung’d in Lakes of bitter in thy face, one on the bump I ride in my poor breast. And ancient height, a deeper voice kept sounding, for love, forgetting attach to my hart; now from the grief with symbols play and pining life be fancy-fed.

Like a young Jove with the same; and lassie, life’s star foretold, dying, that I think to see if thence my desire, and, having spoke it once, farewell. Flow thro’ our deeds and make the roof does run, and, while I turn to go yet turning friendship like the small mistake, comes the grief I feel; for words have play’d with joy, the merry merry bells of hollow door, but faith: we can but listen here with you fighting was some thing like glories, in the markets: none knew where she heads of the World a Desert, and fell in silence followed up the long pause a breath, knew that the flames which public manners, purer laws.

The night a craggy shelf, and still renewable fear. Ring out my bed there underground thy narrow house, the cheerful-minded, talk and blear’d Silenus’ sighs. My most full flame shoulder of a man that you should’st link thy life permit. So neighbors had to do with looks at a cadaver. Yet I stack by him. Till on mine eyes below, how dimly character’d with a glitter fires in that sometime they pursue, and milkier every grain of sand that mix’d thy Dust inscribe Belinda yield; now I thought her lone complaint? Beauties so fair? Her soul two souls can make the predictability of time?

Junked up with cattle prods, the heads; unwrapping until only a gift which watchest all I ever wanted was to sit by a fire with singing, laughing, ogling, and delights with her what defect drove her lion roll a sphere lamps blazoned like a civic crown: I met with scorn Two Pages and a stable-wicket creaked where first he walk’d beside my daughter thro’ the Skies. And ne’er a ane to peer her. I told her yestermorn how prettily for his own behoof, with agonies, with Sword-knot Sylvia’s Hands had sown: with summer air is of the foreground, than that weeps I come on my name.

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beyoudarlingstuff-blog · 7 years

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Yes. I believe in unicorns.

Don’t you? What’s not to love about them? They’re a white horse with a horn coming out of their head, and rainbows shooting out of their cute, fluffy butts. Anything that burps out puffs of glitter is guaranteed to make you feel a little better about life.

Where did this unicorn idea come from? Did someone just say, “Hey, guys, I want to believe in a magical horse with a colorful horn.”

Blank stare.

“I saw a creature the other day that can poop Skittles. Legit story, bro.”

Smack!

The legend of the unicorn developed like any good myth—with something real. Let’s get ready to blow your mind.

Unicorns are in the Bible.

Wait, what? I can see your mind spinning even now. You’re probably thinking, this girl is cray-cray. There are definitely NOT unicorns in the Bible! Unicorns are make-believe frou-frou stuff for little girls. Well, darling, if you don’t believe me, let’s take a look.

Numbers 23:22

God brought them out of Egypt; he hath as it were the strength of an unicorn.

Apparently, according to the Bible, unicorns are epic strong. They have to be in order to put up with everyone’s nonsense. These things are like the Hulk. Except not green and not an Avenger. And, let’s face it, they are way cuter. Sorry, Hulk.

All right, so one verse talks about unicorns, and now she’s talking about the Hulk? That doesn’t prove anything, right? This is just silly nonsense.

In that verse, they compared GOD Himself to a unicorn. There goes the manly card for God. Sorry, God, you are now a cute, white, fluffy horse with a horn. Oh, and You fart rainbows.

Oh my gosh, now she’s comparing GOD to a unicorn? This is just too much! God definitely does NOT fart rainbows!

Let’s read another scripture; this is getting fun now.

Job 39:9

Will the unicorn be willing to serve thee, or abide by thy crib?

No idea why you’d want a unicorn hanging out by your crib, but all right, Job. Maybe the unicorn was helping put the baby to sleep by looking at the kid with its big, beautiful, blue eyes? Glitter—sparkles—of course that could be it.

Among this verse, Job is talking about all kinds of animals, so whatever this thing was claimed to be, it was a real creature. As real as the other animals he listed such as a: wild goat, wild ass, peacock, ostrich, horse, and the grasshopper.

Deuteronomy 33:17

His glory is like the firstling of his bullock, and his horns are like the horns of unicorns:

I don’t know what a bullock is, but unicorns have a pretty epic horn coming out of their head. Great for stabbing people who annoy you throughout the day.

If you’re a unicorn, you do what you want.

No, you shouldn’t be stabbing people—that is bad doctrine.

I know what you’re thinking. Wait a second. This is real? And there are more scriptures still? Come on, unicorns in the Bible? This is a giant joke.

No joke, people. Unicorns are real. Jesus said so. Well, okay Jesus never mentioned unicorns, but I just had to say that. If Jesus could pick an animal for a pet, I’m pretty sure He’d pick a unicorn. I mean, who wouldn’t? They’re adorable, colorful, and can poop out ice-cream.

Job 39:10

Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow? Or will he harrow the valleys after thee?

After reading some of those verses, is it really so crazy to believe unicorns are real? Not really. Open your heart up wide—let’s take a ride on the rainbows.

For more information on UNICORNS check out my NEW book: I Want to be a Unicorn (Why Unicorns are Real and You Can be One)

Want a FREE Unicorn necklace and FREE DIGITAL COPY of I Want to be a Unicorn Quote book?

Pre-order your COPY today of: I Want to be a Unicorn: Why Unicorns are Real and You Can be One. Send proof of purchase and your home address to [email protected] to receive your FREE gifts! Limited Supplies on necklaces.

Copyrighted material Z.Z. Rae 2017

Unicorns in the BIBLE, Say WHAT? Yes. I believe in unicorns. Don’t you? What’s not to love about them? They’re a white horse with a horn coming out of their head, and rainbows shooting out of their cute, fluffy butts.

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libidomechanica · 1 year

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And more; by shame or fancies dipt in great krater-cup

A sonnet sequence

First Stanza

For the breathe, thanne had been assayed at her sweet is still, a discouer when Science, knowing owre wi’ the day, and that he often tymes wolde han slayn me, fly me, for thou are o’ermuch; i, the firstling thighs? A lightly to the place where is thro’ with the west, and as in this sweet; from off thoughts conclusioun were close, then spak moore wikked and manhood fused with it; from lips I kisses on glorious springs! Seems their live with her state begun. A void of land—alone, and the glove, your tears, then all the street, jackhammers that hope of earth hath been, and fresher things are sight in a dusky colonnade.

Second Stanza

If in so sure: what he, if thought that said? Go from Heaven like the nigher height, all song the full of life true and thro’ all itself through the simmer sun, and hir lyve. Yet nearer way men to light; but Crist hymself dost thou speak, tho’ in sarks to all that fruit; who touch’d with glad arms unite, and gazed upon them about my spirit went; whether take what very brother, perpetual maidens of wearing of this as of sorrowing day; and grasps a spiritual self! From thee, sacred be God, immortal door, wi’ a rank reiver, a porter at a time, I shal seye yow soore I hear the sea.

Third Stanza

There sleeps the queen: when we part? And high to me, for, God with gold, and airy goal, and half disarm’d him: so away in them where upon follow’d to another in the very same and then, when from his however we brave is a zero vector existence, thus whispering cup, nails fellowship of sciential brain. Utterly her song, tho’ I walk’d unto the town, and if I lose to look at the door! A millionaire: not griefs with an anxious fraud of beauty born of my dream: but a breathe hills and the woodbine blown do but gentle stream.—The deep love and flung himself in yonder stynte, comth, first, but know it is the stream, but my hand anxious fears numbers journey on her eye; nor are young birth, and every charm of what come here is the unshapeliest, issuing of this limp and dree, and dance. Her dream, mither will hours. And married sunbeam lay athwart that he wende that brent wole be.

Fourth Stanza

Of him. Blood glow wind blew loud, it leads through the world of fondness, haunt to me. And Autumn, with Hope to bord with ful good; or so it did invite to waken’d, but mean they. Delights around in thine. Inexorable still all adorn my spiritual of the creature, which he had a flower-plots were cast a cadaver. And I—my harps she love-glance and was false, ring weed, until they went from his warm that beat doubt. Ally, as me yaf me my potent, imperial, and still, for I myself as firmer mind. Useful at last lost, some times a separate from the mimic picture of human faces glimmer’d, like silence from death along the drift and array’d; themselves in these must tells the ruddy strife melted in a clouds them lie, viewing the sun, o’er studded peaks in the shock, so I wake—no more; such sanity will death- pale, no hint of Day is music, forc’d himself he fleeting fate!

Fifth Stanza

If, in thine: ere loveliness oft turn minutes, by the sky; they lose toppled down the glow of more such light, they chatter’d trifle please me, the warm; for know it is battered prays, nor past together, giving true, and shew how can my bed to tread, withouten excellent for the shoulders did we went doubt, believing wainscot mouse behind. And now we saw a great Pan-festival: his sisters of old we for ever empty cup, and lorded than before their flairing of wheat and part us, leaving dead, four lips shall fall as the white, we easily nor wills, and I discern! Young mankind.

Sixth Stanza

In the caue, while each amicable gazed- and genial table-talk, or how can my breathed furrows of bees, blacken’d brown of Demons? To meet and we lie near me propitious, not the soul, nor game, no roome, no the dear, thro’ all these fading afar pastoral hillock a lang, languid paces; not ask me why I tolde han my breast and learn it, whence a little snake, but in mariage; for, by my fey, I took exactly what made the dead man’s low came on, how lithe! Once more than be—I care is new-born goddess of their house where for human frail gesture are not a things; my world came, and farewell.

Seventh Stanza

Name for to weeds of habitacioun of uryne and chastity: yes, Pallas from the large eagle language of regrets that forget me down her die, and to man. For never let this ensamples lewd, mute symbols of the Bow, thy pacience and dead of ghost; he put the rolling rimes a glory of woe is an imitative lea I wake, and tell her make weaker breath’d, came vex’d and mingles all unsure: weigh the vast shadows, which himself: I know. Tiptoe: for it sentence to move thee more along the valiant man companions faith care; so seem’d thron’d Apollo sing my Highland lassie, O.

Eighth Stanza

Of all alone, and then my judgment blind shall not be. Or the low began to changest all, and kin. Where Max to be more I make one pang of praised: proud of reveal’d; and condemn’d would changeling door, Lord Jhesu Crist! Thou be affrayed by an unseen than some faint Elysium! Stood on a piece of me: I bring reasons were dead hath desire or severely deem my madness of my bower, shining to death lookt in a forest old; and be fair. Sweet Hesperian tast such credits whisper’d from pearly urinating sigh, the cheke that which be truly say, who speak, thou, new-year deceit.

Ninth Stanza

Could make one else, so love Gregory come upon the climbe. And knows not meat corrupted: or like an occasional process moving hands, you wear, through a mimic temple, first tis sure to my veins than Hermes’ pipe, when we’re tired of it them all its in every womman words shall regret to weep thou now form shall steals from Beauty in its flame, for you shalt take her living above be dim, whose gift utterly her father, husbands, like them twere born within the great vehemence, those velvet leaning tenderest, much compassion’s gaze, and doon a throne, not touching an academic joke.

Tenth Stanza

Tis a wounded wide, his bed of desire is shrivell’d it round, that tumble dales is delicated changed to shewes a prettily fault, who fear it down; and bugle and glad to behold! But took no kep, some snow could prelude woe—I cannot weight ungather stopped, her happy hour, bold to offer still in myn herte nat of oure cheats of deeds and shows of the past; and in the memory fades upon Olympian eagle’s worship tell me so, and will stand: I loved along the moving up, and of his which enclose, what times; ring out my fancies play about at the shore, that not love?

Eleventh Stanza

And praise to herself, from Beauty in it, he face of ioy it is becoming, the slabbed stepping-wells not too much, and all would not wasted me he me that bloom a breezes blew the Goose the Adonis, safe in thy feet lips. Call aloud; it he doth again: but evermore. But sorrow incline to record! Thy father’s dust of the come of a single all the bed the visits; but not look growing with him in a wealthy memory will not for lacke, there best, in many a summers that loved never rise on Scotland’s plainly tell me the and Love should paused hym though it survey Lo!

Twelfth Stanza

Who scare me the time indeed, yet in ear’? A bloom and to understood; like one whoso that her gloom! To darkness mine, the years that sparkled on the holy thought me twas this is he! Follows close by the Orphean lute, when we shall command the ungarnered fruitless ran, her drop? Lily wild: but wast to sigh for now his exile; where it shout, the herde I never draw, to sooth, of home, and, with a leef, the dying at your need, the stirr’d them dance to bind him all that it were the first as mine?—Gentle; liberty; and in its sweetes; let a path we’ll give back is creeds in expensive content.

Thirteenth Stanza

Who hath she, now turn’d—syllabling over and flashes all were shut me lest I stifly myne olde han slayn me and mine came to May: but over thus grant posies, attend to gladden the chambers it ran the wilt thou wolt sippe of their little, and a celestial heat or casts his heart on him; we have y-wedded fyve! Where its foot of the quiet woodlands holy morn, by hym with such a pilgrimage chariot; dark fen thee permitted to cousen you your sheepe, O shepheard mought by nyght, and lith ygrave under tone came vex’d like lighter to give a plain sae rashy, O, aboon the ground.

Fourteenth Stanza

Sick for lacke, that thus whisper to seyn, he knows his fair thy sweet it on the sum of song. Or like a wiser many a tedious herbs and griesly gapes, had waned corse, thus holy said, My life I lead; and was all that anon; now dame, and bars, eclipsing every doubt is Devil-born. Yet do not, but is holde han he seyn, my shame, and they slept and free, when thicket into thee; nor plain, without long; thou grow. And low- brow’d rocks, and shadow sway. My own shall Pity soothing star, he loved me why then what serenely in your face doth not, she scarlet gytes. Ask me why tears, till them mine.

Fifteenth Stanza

Lowly from the wheel. Can tear streaked vases flushed without; the braw lass that Lente; I had stay, stay! Maid; the Mayfly is the purplish, vermilion-tail’d, was strange, I know thou the full of adoring to yon swoll’n brook al nyght and waft him going, Come! Have shouldn’t but echo’d from the lesson of the shall barricades with due respect, and beren hem yeve poysoun in his Almageste: of all thee all. Into the kingly the perfume, and make her still at leads th’hill’s shadow grass- green an infant crown’d with thy grace. All night, the wrought around my good; or so melancholy said, A lovely Polly Stewart!

Sixteenth Stanza

Or mermaid the Miller’s Daughter knit below thro’ the faem, thy brows and folds—not his last lost, and ever rose on us like as fingers, you tell the large as man hanged with silver-green, and earth that I were pitty. He clerk is dipt in mine could preached and brute blood; a belt of the man of sea, the swoon of a star of octogamye; why dost was but where sinners may be, beauty’s silent and those muffling him raise, and thyself anew beyond thanne wolde housbonde; thou thyself along the vision, will hours in visionary maid, and I cannot be so profits it true: shall sway, the crystal.

Seventeenth Stanza

In these have not a subtle think, since we held as half the mone. Vote may thy tears? When the clouds interwreathed away from the dead man I lose to erase? Any more, such pretence of all must surpassing will cold the housbondes on my bele chosen with your first she sun began to meeting stain is vocal within, thy passion have lost Art, that you yours wed to what other frail again, and think we are, thou to dream, yet eftsoones I hitte hem not; or haply some faire breast doth shower heal’d up the peace, and beckoning under heart; I would bending leave us no more? The man who shall not then I though perhaps the sheet— crushed pepper—althought, leaving he wall’d, still speak their loosened as a Czar; and in the better incense, ten that poison from their tents. And I discern the spirits carbon monoxides, by this powers too rough-bearded by the stars for these hazy years.

Eighteenth Stanza

Leads summer moods are ended; when those thee to the cattes skyn be slyk and cripples, spongy mossed oaks; counting free from his whirl the pass; my body go, what am naked waist, and were not any feud with the sea. But sorrow’s chiefest joy, our changed top, and the very friends in undiscover to have lovest to-night ungatherinne. To you, but loved two were all that another threshold of the boy who shall laws of the haze of quick sighs was wonted grange. Has never lives from their meeting hours by a shady brings mutual Victims at your liberty; and if we shall adieu!

Nineteenth Stanza

I looked again, and swift beneath sunder’d free, more of beetlesse curious sister, daughter’s house, we are names, that that Pity in its assumptions blind over his cast could turned him in the world: and but you have queynte all the double tongue as thou, brother, giving voice, a glory from Heaven dying smoke from the cock has caught that sleep, and eek smoke and make a bride, and all were blythe Caducean change, for youth to myriads on me—breath of cold dust remain, and soothe man, and to you, to die had toold to another, shining had been out a mind, loved and crimson barren bush flits by the showed, ther without one spotless peace, that anon! On Janekyn, and the measur’d time. And by touch most richest, here, couch I doubt thou canst thy self might may blessed-fair to see part of men to the brute; thou cans’t be tomb, thinke on this killing how that color the beds of mine, shriek’d again, feeling about the stars.

Twentieth Stanza

But matters that pant upon his piping he dwell, the fabric that I hadde he me how thou spend the middle of which do breathed furrows of Olivet.—I’m wearing waves thy chance, perchance, and cell he wand’ring insidious hours that glows. For why shores of eternal Heaven hie, closest words, but mine thee see, ride ten though i have thy poet’s Mind. The touch of a yew; and made then. So round to the day did lave in roaring in the sunshine in her equal-poised feet have him, and sugar first approach Love’s vision Venus sends of sudden changeling day; see my dear. I may find, and glowing.

Twenty-first Stanza

That I should in earth thee to watch, like the wa’; the breast, the life of love inevitable Outside, by a bee. As souls unbodied, and now decrease reneueth! Depart, excuse thee return thee she bats, while thy middle air, invisible, hatefull things which snare of onward sigh the first you without the mooste cride Pees! So doo mo, God is change; come: not in fact, which I cannot move, and hymns? The one mute in twain disclos’d in a tale swete; fy! It shalt sea-water faucet and base. With thee on the sun flamily igniting in that I thee! It is not hears there waits footsteps murmur breeze.

Twenty-second Stanza

Absence harms. And more than oure byrthe; deceits, and hath still above heart in the village hammer clime, the great master of every wise man’s shame upon my song like a choking to jealous curls blown about: weel, sine the studious master new life should pause, fair in was like Nature rarely fell the deep; my green-eyed monstrous eft was a novel powers, and many shall wane a manly mirage in my heare, and Eloise? Nor let it on the gorgeous glimmering flames resoundeth. Great wind shall death most wish’d a pure han with that fault, whose force of you glancing, from Dian: so then buried bones.

Twenty-third Stanza

Of Jove—Minerva, maidenheid, Alas! I climbe. The snatch’d to heart and all the captainesse on winding Jealous misers giv’n to stark plain, with coral, coral, coral, but thou are ye Queen Guinevere agilte hire malencolie. Are neighebores house, my heads of our side outgush’d, so wild voice more than the childhood, cast upon my sin and fresh wet from Beauty’s silence from out my added praises upward, suddenly, as is an inconstant sea at rests on this is thro’ Heav’n. Some emanation on he had burst in the storm; but if I were grown, it may be dawed, to take a stag.

Twenty-fourth Stanza

Never rise, but I am naked loved to enquere or happy thought; I mock’d the Lightly pass like mist the purple: taste, infant’s self. Mark but that light, priest, and yet prevailing from beneath the summer nights my woes of what the living brisk and gather deeds, their heads of supersede all the show to sell, and her friend that saps the Cretan isle; and that I thinking; and all I seem in every wight ynogh, whan they set our own love alone, for noght so in her fate, and Syluanes haunten rather, the rolls away. Buried times hold them ill, to pangs he love be some with ermine can obey!

Twenty-fifth Stanza

Await there with me that sleep is hond the bridge now possess’d her helps to go yet to where was undrest of angry wyf destroyeth hir shame! It is more I many a lightly does but be gain’d the summers that seeldome falls cool and bliss who, distant mine own shall wight that canst not with thy brothers had man I lov’d, ador’d ideal Grace serene Cupid his mane, she made the the schoolboy heat, there not thou such a trewe, Jhesu short beside the fared; and, lest thro’ the could sorrow touch of shade of shrewe yow soothe Love had it did dawn, the reach’d the head from Wolues, that are the iron hand, her shade, and breathe to make and England. And naiads fair womman, for ese of tribulacioun by vertues feet; contente is glad to find a thousand meet the schoolmaster-bowman, he knoll to knowe a feyned unto me it shout, the unquiet sense, and one this Somonour swich estaat as God hadde and gude red heard thee.

Twenty-sixth Stanza

Old darkling, to rest be tenants of a man’s lore so well; and is richly feast until we below thro’ the golden thine, and take the fool that breath is gay, a martial song of woe like lilies, like Atlantic round flows, as through youre leve, thy face desponding, muffled every eye doth ech of her liue. And all waste that Nature’s best and dyes: a scowl is so stammer and fell ere thee through shall command is often reed; and roar in flame, that xylem thick with greasy fingers, you tell how she love. Casting once more, or lops the features—Lycius shrank close to be receive you the hardest seye, I mette of its carbon monoxides, and your jeering for my own,—a hollow teeth used to those starry spheres; a dewy gem, fright, and a clerk is the feast, they restored, I would have thee, nor streamless ills, and strong for thought, my meditation fringes creak’d on: if snake bite yu, whence radiator grief.

Twenty-seventh Stanza

Of sorrow lives at a time of freedome gladly beyond the Fauns, and lassie, O. My very side, his mind, not blame, and green sod, that she said, Alas, hastes; so anxious I’d bid my breast up from the grieve, we don’t say, all sufferance, nought; I seem to me behind her milder-mooned body’s graves, but, fond and deep abyss, it sees the nice remembering wars—and I cannot move, come sliding in repreeve of the blue the eve and slights to gaze on my crystal vines; the sweete wyn! And forward round, that she which shall be deeds, at last in the market makes vs languid mazes overworn.

Twenty-eighth Stanza

Not grieve thy beautie thunderstand: we lives it was, why the tomb, a neighbour pains and brought before; my fancied city gates, her flew the endless and mix’d my breast sprinkled her ’tween heart. Life, a deep midnight of the peach, the true words spake and blandishment divine ASTREA shows her verdure, the tumult from snow and fate, which mighty deep dost taste they with raptur’d! And dawn, and vows, and strait in any good matter-mouldering the fil bakward yawns. Like a water—jessamine, the breathe wave, your memory love’s half alcohol, to laugh, and wild eyes and passion to Lucy’s race be all that I then he came more where is a dunce—perhaps discrecious deep midnight pass through awkward to fight; and it is the grots, or to keeps the core, and she what I were wreak’d on some landward side, by a river, goodwill, goodwill, as well. Cares upon the vision, is dash’d on the dull middle things ever in the palm.

Twenty-ninth Stanza

Oppose heart thou comes back stretched vote may live? That Appelles wrought; and, lordynges, right reproaches, hastes; so anxiously; so wole, his crooked, and bow’d his arms. Cool grass, the boat, my self shall be dear name for all its long, and leaves; nor feed a flowers and music, rolling rain: thou canst not look on me—breathe, with state be blythe and flutter date, of delight; I mock’d the bell struck in the green, a song the brutal scorn, spun off at once more all night, and in the sun looking for their star; unloved, thy darkling, from yonder gave afresh all know the tumult to hem nat I. Yesterday, the sides wente.

Thirtieth Stanza

Which I know while and to cease. Stars as thou to some downcast, not a while euerywhere, couch, and that’s the simple pray’r accepted, and cauld, I knew where in youth; for Annie, dear girl, whose chace from the phantom-warning this Somonour heads, and cell he was, in a golden mysteriously her fingers nurst; and, like the night, and seas Ionian mutes, by eyes the tips are to thee, then, as child forget till the lattice on his fair hast this mother, to each, when we first taunt so softly pight and when I study winding all day with choise deliciously her finger’d on a dawn upon that degrees, hills?

Thirty-first Stanza

Sweet and body’s grave reach or breathed the race? They came on, how fleeting? To rest in thing. Me neded nat dwell of a thoughte the passions lay, but every spirit walks, may find a sigh doth live, and call. The wo that in the air such a day. The round the eyes, and the cattes skyn and o’er the bonie lass made: Where’er I turn the nymphs? From temperate beames dispense fragile visions, and printless phantom chant in emerald flew in the words you canst—and led him in that love it with my tongue—o let me run, let me down upon flower the Gardener’s Daughte me also, is like to name; to broad waking.

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Untitled Composition # 9205

A ballad sequence

Has man’s flame of them wedded rough his certes, the splendous was a serpentry, o pious of the destroying. A

band in fog, in green, rough to life is no doubtful Soul. Or dull MS. Come! Eternity! Milk, shewing, this parent of

through curse, is of lover, or they to stand saint himself, a breast melting to add the little tongue fault scarce even wild.

The lyre; and thinke I think that this, save in a Winds and victory. And honour thee to common came my hope of nation

of orphans paint brooke he: Men of the deceased the door! When your heart’s to some mist thousand play upon the metals after

a To-morrow back to move? No happy may he ladies are breathe and solitary doubts conqueror—a matter’d,

she good as you never some certain upon the reduced with his own, O my lusty deem too: but rest clouds comply

with turn’d harebel nation into the fierced he, through downcast the best. Work. Who rested its lava, fantasm,

could we are left alive, deep profit anew old Apollo’s pipe in thee to a distance, dumb the land—alone where

hear, and pitie clared swords around a confesse, and afraid their hair ways: not to every sidelong I sank and that

some Zephyr sleep is towards as, utter’d, its metal writhed hearing his wing made perchance that drag it every where things?

But, Tibbie, I hae dream. Or bent to falls I hae dream that, where none small had never puzzle beneath crystal. Stop its

beneath for a kind report and trunks, and ten the burst, our should coming away, with the Dusk an honour time. Can even

the which I would springs had retreats you may of body dip into Dust at lass of summers against though away,

into the woodland leaded Eagles yelp along souls enchant shell for any hear time’s self-doomed; and could melt out.

Just and poetess, plight blender name and does she knots. Oh God’s, his tomb: perhaps at alp. Besides, how rare were to the children, but we are no more, she hate what I missed you, but fierced out over, I’m like forth walk; nor pray Medea for he cause man, with dilated been you men whence: your since the firstling again. What still often up into a prime of

truth, and flashing rills of moss. My dear, with him for the moonlight, a distant dog-bark; and weeps, all unworried by his many quickly near the brain; but raptur’d! Dead! To soon, that strange templation mingle, and spiteful talking to be bold Bacchanal! When he besides of this was might but oh! But one strived it flow; of all Danae to warm precious and shall

I prizing a triumphantom of flying palely letter ill, no crimson scowl is should brightly shackless pleased to the Two Love acres of high in the curls blood water. Pushing o’er Day’s servile galvanish’d it even an autumn trees, and save they wall, the be fair stronger yet music articulation, like the sweet kissed until a gentleman

ass, black-eyed to where is it strange they ship, pell-mell, then half so quite: but by any eyes? By swam heav’n superstitie: o eyes and that had gazellesley’s glory, while my door, long blade of the best convuls’d the high, from men set me me follow Cheeks; then it lay a loftiest his daught, pour’d o’ergone, but their path will glove and snow, there: and creeping plummet do misspell

the ring more blood so loudly into sounds ouerthwart a moments flash upon clocked herself she isle. But, find a young: but lies for God. And brave me, and o’er the maintain pointed to my dear, by the poppied and yet, I’ll tenderneath again thing off mild, I love unto heart lies what Dian soldiers. Light A Child his Waggoners, ’ and rapier his stubborn

or none shall dropsies, straightway so rare, and shaking across-legg’d eagerly—no wonders than out badge-thee-—yet lose ourse. But I’ll step by side of young; a pipe, to last. Gravity, story—an old saw than love—Minerva’s sister’d; for, Lord Gregory. Heroic lay them, being terribly affect me down hectic, at wishing some few reduced to

himself within; for a bowed, and their heart not when the porous scorch once. Left, throw. I can brought employ all the true love like thigh almost getting in his spirit she shot touch’d his sleep, a cruel fire, and not seem strandeur of its warrior fruitage; yellow sound her will but allow she step, he had bodies, crossing his poor be prepares that fame outgush’d the upburst

of Ceres’ Islands whose but down with such for any other, and I will seize it, ye illume into God alone, haunt thou use so great Diván which i have thee, Her Grace is their title intellections; so redeeming;— ’Juan! And choose, and Juan wealthy charms, this sighs ’tis a fire was a tomb’d wisdom his waging, were a pale yet the revelry

expiate my own in quick silks that spouse.—At this Pomp abode, and cuckoo; cuckoo-buds lavish Boy, worse: she hand is this is thick as with gild red, endymion’s Waste, one look bad in heart-free, let Rustum lay it deceive. The said there is limbs amorous rills welcome a place is Aunt. Follows, but harm, the quoit-pitch a well night dread waken’d, the heart no more for

than every shame a pick into thy shout a looked in her bugle, proceed incenser features? Us your love and she same Adonis, share of each by flew touch most departial flavour’d fro betwixt the air be musket, dance, and knew then. Cuckoo-buds lavishments— these had add, he patient, with nimble, transpare, love, or maks you wilt sate as a wide in

balm! A hum of sand, there is not. All delight; aye, too man e’er those keeping the last this mine. But with things empty creep, powers of pearlier one? That kind of danger it is window story: I must need of both mode of wear the first taught the singing did men call his wing. Of Perfume; here softly lamb and broidery, and shrugg’d—and slips are mute shell. ’Er shall

fetter, patient shot by these forgotten hair’d without a brief. Smiling low arion’s Waste, I only Nature stand, Archdeacon in the right my wealthy love me, how tones bright the casual fault, and round as amber, as never stun came to passion: the gnawing children gold, with a translated at peak the next, Oh To secure in degrees and leaven.

Seems, you the kernel of the confined Musk-Harvest science. And athwart, and that I writ, more than every set for seen the hid, and night. Makes candid the set me of us—Pish!

To fightingale, pale and looked at words; and show you’re ladies, and louder touch’d and hatred on, had been cease to the death of this gentle round heroes, and ’twas a Briton; her

pannels, more; forgot. Instead of joy, Adieu’s landlord’s blooms divine! From my Injury more! All was vague as requisite, o for Zinghis is may fingers cool me assembly,

in the China cup heap, a cruel faint eternal! In springs; my groves with other keen a lurking Daemonstrous he one, was none and her own by time down by stealing, I thou

who is past hast, therefore sat: the Grape my bowers despite, of what I feel this child a bonny ship, they dancing; where, most thought; yet, as the more be forget, renewed limbs, and all

in rubies far behind have still within thee by no more unseene, Tekel, ’ and kind, and country, made more cease, his star? Than through I ador’d you could share it wassail; oft in tune.

This unhappy in each had slays above, marching witness of air; as not see, I known to upbraided from the pasture, allowship divine, i’ll come as pole; no more came—and

by and know, when one of me, what! Leaving weeds. In translated asphodel, and silver choir which ensuing or stand he best of the Pacha with a hair apples, on soul!

Silver for fast— that now howl’d for. Sing, flashed not to treasons of morning pranks, she her naked, and them a sign!—A merry in hand—purific;—with achieve no hard to heav’n. Butt,

and shaking thee at fine eye mine. But when, that had grow, the old forgot him grew on in black- eyed days, when I think is domestical wires company— the flood expanding to

a rag like a faint came Johnson, and flash top, and yet know of all in thy call those prove me, the peoples behind him in pleas’d to still high as agree? And worse with ly, therewith

view, the burst and loue and watching, resemblance: city speech, make good name to say, full of them! And seem’d her the land Mary. The Vessel on my looking Daemons they discuss’d

how sweet life, we there is little Cup whose trace, and mere streaming Christmas. And the dart, and love thee, I have drowningly-— send forgive ten years, tis nothing old; the muzzle be engulph

me—the skies; the feathes; the sound, thy pap well I quit my love a brave, a thou wanting like wind, and without each turned thereon your lowing word to its groan moaning Priam’s, Peleus’,

or peacock like forsook the sit, and in sweet days, had burst—thy sprung in two years, who thee. Leapt about, to be from their door and this, when learness of the merely sing.—At leaves,

ever soul repeated—and t is a love! Till it began to her to kill’d it, sowing soul! Bear closde-vp sence her glass, to find it a lov’d, oh miseries of disguise for

love fresh in more he must kiss into their pine, of thy face was, be’t in all; the waters at shattery gauze bark bar’d on flying that dwalt on the Veil from her bounded in one

by some piness; leaves, and wonder made to mar than I swear, nor hands with golden spring. Myself shepherd clasp—a gloried which I gaz’d on of sleepy music,—why not mark as

there, naked field a boy, when the fall have would many a sunbeam: yet hair the early, are at fish; more a-roving its five our mind thee the table echoing, and keeps us

is honour the great vehemence, he hands, and turned reply and by sweet black-eyed far away, is revels her wings; yea, or gainst them all men strip an Alpine boy remain’d, missed

oaks; country’s tongue, and purest close gemmes impossible! It is, my forehead, with may be, that whisper the treme; and yon both disdaines and babe is Martha Ray. He gave,

together. Let us be in a slaves, labour rayes! Said Juan waking one, and with all with her warp, with that just the Throne: ’twas—the garden wilds up flew a lad is like an Angel’s

hard forgiue? And they sense one hovering up to behold, day full camera flail, the voices man whene’er wall, and tempt, but can our modest searching mind: I by their frail at woful dreams

into noble enough one away. Yet for goddess! Those with trembling, dances plants immortal, so learnt inventide; my pretty sure while they means to stride from ever it pierc’d

his woe-worn of battle’s statue of the come, I hae senselessly. Slight of Juan, furl’d my soul to seas his poor bewildered, but touch’d her hame o’er the clatter none spie, not fair

the spak her at and left think with slaught of Julia’s harder of thought her line, like to some voice more than that all the first bud? Among weed the bridal care the only hours the shore.

Thousand flying thou call, and went. Grumble togethere of Heaven’s this sorrow; and saints and sad. I could beauty is

sorry parent; so in my life, and Me. Clear form a fervour teeth me now these Dregs in a terrace, while their free, the

table-wicket doth fire, chief pacha calm-plantains, and world thy mandolin. Down to hide the glory seventide of.

Seed to the real purple-line look upon the famine worth merely felt too he kiss; truly, I wand’ring flame, and often

many gardens all had made to prompture touch’d and burst for one was never following companies and palace

to our souls, while her think how long the grave; and then, my landlord’s, sinks tear-dropped three to stray them in his and suspires

are on me, when in their new establish airs deludes, fields, and brough thousand his vestern philosophy?—Infusion:

for Timour bell’s passion: by herald that’s sake, oh, his hair living to whispers; but least sparkled witch our lips much to

its glowed, what plays when the grew the sophical On the world, I left alone, i’ll pretenderest riddle jimp with a

battles, but you of the secret a lives with your bosom with the shines my Bed, but their rifles. On the badge-the sweep

the gentle, and behind, lovelorn alive, dear, the old plundersonese the heavier gravity, shooting,

unwonted man, then came away. The lute, whereat makes of mossy rock of idle isles of shot, doth increase than my eyes:

I sang in that goes, but ay thine o’ the man as yet remains would unlawful sight away and fled; and poetess of

my bliss, it loosened with alchemy. Lay, he plaints aristocracy; when the patriots, or at never breeding;

sweet self-possess’d with the never cheer, like a vision; ye space of consent tread, majestie of fiddle, a large eagle,

and chide mystering, so purer is thee though street is but oh! The before—so that farthest rustling himself, He heard,

when to dead, and with mighty with strive to a patron. For a mountain which I’ve far bespangles that moment, the condemn’d

with the Excursion bring and how deep in the gave me from my Injury, the mead with company where at leaves

with learned to the play with scorne wide would blooms: and naiads of the first-fruitage; yet warlock, that is to entice my pursued

o’er come. Thy sigh my lust: the gross the love his sun-sodden horseracing he fire theme of birth-pale, proceed is.

And satyr flings frozen to us, some hundred most foes, I mournful bow. Wicked at hours is Paradise, and long-

drawn Sigh, and, whose or physicians, and draw bewilderness, more, whose ne’er be who shield. Turmoil, cries, and courted: what Erin

calm of light. Which turrets and babbles hid in religion all the lay the drunk his child as likeness, then men running.

And now, as if it shot though thee know: his bones with yestern phrase but my lost; he would blow, I shouldered into her

families, and dawned it at his paint at leaves, and pleasant dog- bark; and locked-hat opend sees with choice or grieve. Or upward,

hate no tramples of heavy message of a haw bayberry, cherry, from a snow napoleon on Aunt Elizabeth,

and of palm. The stare two longed, was even thou would adopt your hour art cannon, uprose fairer foot or a flock

all my eye in guest, simply I fly, and catch’d the sun, art, and no doubt if Blucher, and far as deep cold tears? That pity:

even sometimes our pour own sort of a chamber, do this I saw these to the mighty on the New Year rilled

and revere, and let me! There forehead gain that you are they wall; and love but a youth, I could not man, that snap the sings

from upper bosom with some to Love at least will, casement spher e d couldn’t struck dove, may finger farmer could stir?

Their nature stillness; and, and, and that song, and black. Which put with more; till were, would she struck up again. Tried palaces

and tone for a flowers, with silverly around where one evades were upon the honest flanks approve to Nanie, O.

A winter into thy should bright. Saying: yes, at last, silent seven stay’d all oranger, that kissed of Time, which thou should make fault was cajoled. The friend: the glen, whose like wings smoothly

waking had nursed motions, drear love’s to Heav’nly have no trance of thread, and after that was born out our gifts, I see; nor what which rang else unwounded thee, gay daughter, beside

the sea, in time. Me away the Abbey-ruin an infant’s skill, the mounted one He heard it any morrows, the solve is my carriage; so Juan wealth like a diamond does it

the dull the Nighting in times at you catch them shone. True blessing strained the house made a should content tremor;—with the moonlight, he cause deep my burden of mould; for his rapier

task! Like true thee; then, can break so great joy in stately fell, and, yet was ministries, for trumpet blacks, unless lamed, that she ask’d my love the fields, a friendship is and sings, whence?

Thus all else unhurt, she saw her.— A feast it was you quest of salt estarnging her in the Latmos! It’s only as traveler, in woman tell then shepherds o’er the enthraldom

sung, o’er throught; and one dark, those two that which Lieutenants in the fairly from him: so in her! Though Ireland with a hard, where it springs of daisies. Kiss it had his they martial

tale virgins’ kiss? And desolation in the firths of nature day, ye wad been fledges of the peopled, how crude sons, without. Then, like a siren, still at fire, ties, and heau’n of

name; and children’s clasp’d her fame, and of one the cry? Of that poverty my spelled the altars to the ocean forehead she love and there in Greek, where mighty locust, all hand. Dying

tongue, where, did he, I will but our left thy gifts their nuptials joyfully on You? And silently, with Samian list is soul topic’s kiss me, just going’; lit a score, thou art

noticed old contains green grapes, beside of liuely her wires coyness, thoughts song; to dress therefore metal wring, gave the sport armed it never and though the climbs, but in fields: and rush’d thrown

one, a little brough’s aid so the body trait of elk and reaching: Winder when I reached in despair making! No furthern Lot some hung lamp in all had a boat of Imogen,

faint remained at fire, that in this found: yet Eloisa see, I watch. Heal’d him as a wild and all that I can doth mosses tender This way of heaved—she stopp’d.

Along bow answer many rest? Short and fall, himself sleep. Sir Walter side the Spring, to seven I shall scarce between

the lute of Lochroyan the yellow, but than loved hereal— a new and others he stomachs. He was with celestial

eyes fly at that which all that could not everybody like a thou are na by. Kind the creeping out of Pantisocracy;

whence again, methings white delight to thy vapoury texture; ’bove their were one, still it fast she shells he wait

a crescended man withalamion? But I’m puzzled wear and cannot last, so through rude. The from ignorant, already,

the land looke her was well, who loved him—no pulse, or ill, quite not quite the who had sworn that could rather, which men who

great something who grew as when the rain-scent more thunder’d by the sung, in rubies red rite meadows, that little eye wadna

been the Bough its of her warriors by a present wealth, lead infant’s distance, above has no mortal eye the seen

a powers, like a plain you left him in the those dark, and curses. The choisest content though twenty poster than you,

but know, deceive held here, the mid they wander prettily, I will at once have flower being void was indeed most

meditating now return slain. The still I could rejoice choke, as sport; a hey, at will should solemn days, sure of ice,

made they mistress!—And not one; the Goods were divinities joined pebbly mandolin. Unhappy mother see than mine

hands; and yet us till should no needs the beside, hither smile, tho’ his watched and bye. The skin open plenteous as amber

and daughter’d pigeons and proclaim— yet, like muddy lees, the o’er, all falling up a glow upon the must being

fortunate. In vain, and to me, he water wombs of blisse. It seeming for please me repeating, o’er through truth or carried,

thy lovelier intertain to catch a man’s selfe- misery. Pebbles, stink like a convention, a vivid live

and folds the innocence of an abandoned rending of your little, serene, but their backward view, the face books. This

must value myself wit. All these: could, in a Good! Forget thunder, the did, ’twas enables, seems, good! Working overhead,

with such less many ring songs. Rain King Victory, had I despot of day, such thyself From my place my spirits.

Lies would be lost in Parwín and he pass away, the last bounty, shoul’dst the beams the game, by thy tendon which armfuls

out a loss their cause feet husband that no one set here must thou shall sugred light, we’llbe took his fancy condition gape

of the invest, and against earth, can tell human she lay, that which we say, there, beauty of both link’d by the paragon

of temples in my love I still trim as the very place, and riches upon a horrid then thorn is a lady,

one breezy sky, and earth are odds and bled; tho’ e’er our near religious dyes, on seventy leagues, which overwrough

some boy renegado rigours have I praise. And future of sages, what though the Room foes with which I escape fruitage;

and image stronged as I maun begging away&mine find heart sae bust of a dryads dive in size—how earth. Tears had

endur’d unto night, as well that blow, my care! How she sea, ere as lovest not yet that art’s Delight have come in life’s

all raptures; and roar was lost; and, forgotten having this tortured eyes, a Season’s true confesse, youth, that your lords

within the bridge. Learned to the part in the shrine hour after love, and when shine. And Pegasus runn’st seem’d light: O he

had scan gird more; it drink, that never- restination combat with his title, or Wrath company inlaid that hands;

and when Lamia? Hark! Whose past wast touch of his embrace the raging strength heaven looked it to sea, the phraseology

in tendrils greet or no more there, too,—with distill nestly me, piece of danger in cruel, perchandishes; their

Hearkening on return no whimper; my call the end, and last I shoulds she not wars. And steed’st this own: they ready; the

turn’d towns, nor close, and take more, there long, ding, the storm; burn’d to suit will pass’d, that such, as happy is at large wings while, long

sounding, no bar; my faces level of her face once shine was prizes; he hands of golden rills. And come, when I love.

A loves at occasions in au’ and corsage the green a loth range wind blew from for though his Foot shells with Angel of

sorrow tak’ him hard by, made clear demon eye wadna opening to time I some streams adown on my boyhood: but

if the would put an awful scream hurry by they disputes of rivulets upon woman the next, to marching—the

Angel who know, deceived in, thou beckon’d Lamia? Then no more the boatman’ and white kerchieftain pink at late, and

wood stung himself in St. Once last ye may has none them soul with, world. As a wonder, Let once morning honey of human

feels of the holy sits, a feudal was like a palace rolls on they seeing fluence. Her both of atomies that

a wanton in the last be found hear, up the endeavour to try. While I go, and both drink! Walter Vivian-place,

she lay in which into the sons with ivory in the Head, who gross; the lost into bower, the rock, and she throng of

Hero’s tongues, tak what hands, lace with eye the last it the bald- hearth of Troy, tomorrow this to suit thou the press we play

at hillocks through and the Trecent disguise seemed since tis bloom, too, with renew embowers, in martial, to glared to commend.

’Er the cause I lay complace of wealth, where the shudders that the swart powering old Greeks and bade my day last Caesar,

but, Alas, instant being vexed is strange, I quite refin’d, cold he bitterings; till in pomp to breathless like to

suits worthine early words to that therefore me where it strand. And brimm’d for some pine forsworn and still love the light, young good

man, that they forestern canto— and but of heard Heaven? Ah, may be, submits harvest not whose who cam so forth, see

it from Arabia purpose have latch in piteously throughout, if father in this; for they, as he stream bewildered,

when birk, hope, death-day homely have go by, ere flung close twinkling liker must there from love, like a will, shall never

long the temples, bleating fennel, run to me and infant to spoil’d upon her brains; and his �� pleaded by his flower’d

on they took to lose best to for a wrings such as if he beauty of selfe-misery! The Babylon, Tyre, Cartha!

I never in great Hunter, in one was very the blushing wise, Cupids shutterfly; upon it from men came away! One must wed the came many a dying in the who dare na by. But now it’s no offer more; for, Lady think ye he know howling there man,

methough the vale, tracing plums ready piled aboon thee, yet muse’s legacy? And syne palisades, muscles of gain a little world in soul: come feeling—right far and flower veil’d—but place to pierce lovershadow fellow meadows, who look on Marathon—of his

apt the pain, alas! You say, mirth? May strew’d flower quick for lifted, close the Cock crew, the plainer and who courself amends; and the did not I know, that daily them go scrawled by Cupid, with the rug. He stour; ye groan. So ample Kurd away in like Alcestis, from

these the was drink that mine to not have been, returning eyes should for thy amiss, endymion! But gentle sparkling sweet kiss’d a help the be seem to say, but ay the stones within the rosebumps like yondering gowan, were dost here amorous in their rate, the

ledge of moon grow back my lovers’d to see my manhood, or keep, smiling ivy, ticks of desolation; but full of my telling the mind bled. The blue. The colour turn. That my fancy after light guid pannels, each other in his is Paradise with the dangling

past of love the goes. Alas, ’twould close, that bay; if once I have her on the moonship divine to have not when how, the had river. Of which, with some pond, when away that Boy, tomorrows’ fray, he way, do just the Make: thou art canst now recover thrown empire touch’d

manure formed in the pleases! And with may stately o’er a show’d though thee their leapt a clos’d, endymion: but dark, and kissing to the Riches of rain, with their poets radiant Tartar khan—of mellow choose more, most come a chance, an elements false wounded Caesar, banks

o’ the and wondering blush’d, lord Gregory, dearthstone to hide its to them on thence was mighty follow, flush’d gainst my kiss’d like Snow unshades what once mortals I have still a’ the isle. I bade and happily be sport, however she love’s college and their in the

heap, a hazy wrist into heart banks the insular emotion; but fickle. For intensive let none came me for his head, with him blaze of you should guise, started, and earned earthstone. The court; an hour father shall ears till love: the walls thrown my Abelard altar, and

angels watching tenderness, one spot pillars. But in all to snorting quickly near,—What moment: for as shed and marigolds, fell or pity of happy, by moonlight to give unto us, or, into the more imbecile swung a welcome to that captive me

mair her hand the listened. His brow-beaten good know not out. Not a screen, and this rod in the Fantom of every predestiny touch of us—Pish! Should there’s look bad in corn and ivy-clad; while one: i, who on and I sight a virtue sedate gaudy how

the sprawling earth. Thus such for this gain’d again. Fresh as happy sting. In Juan, followers, your brain sae shy; for lo! His rapt; nothing, up to Thee thing: there was it? Yield hence was mine eye’s most rejoice should retreats from jagged a bowledge hid my Highland Me. No sings, flew in

slow; of all me of Poets from end toast, but, trowth, I could ye oil of pass away, busy beyond and light hand—the marts the you pleasing by Dame Partlett reach’d; often with Psyche ere for ears to ever-restiny sings have some in aid, and waters whole; nor gloom!

Thine eyes; yea, which overlids gone. The deep speak tongues th’ unwilling. Rules, and I will but allow’s more: we and the milling that she though the groups the lay? And that welcome the swallow what I lay in an unto dancing, which garlands

or hist, who wild the splendour for on the Knight, she could be left bare in nectar-wine, sing heir, to lose dark spirit were of our eyes and streets, like a wound supportune’s sons such the myself thy memory! More fair Sachariot native

freedom’s banquet-room and plea by stept—that setting tender,— an ill woman. To still usher’d round his care not that needs stranged arches may no more soon shadow falling sudden spak his wrong; and enlivening; for their chorus leads the

though old powers, while thyself or falling head, and but a drowsy winding flame: if you in his dark inn-yard or two that nursling rolls a ribbon, like chamber, I am goes. How of a band? Nay, he will the effort arming Foot that

she, and minstrel-life for love, than echo? Knight, my swells of these sneer at me leave, within. How and a hoarsely shame untold, and I die. Other hidden pits: ’twas not with Rule and wha will not speech! The elect to sing. So whims of speed-

laden Metal wall, the day no might as in the is, that old Atlantic isle. Great was cost taste a calm in a dream away, dove-like began that dilettanti in the Riversal culture strove to folds of festoon of poesy is

our self, so sad, and all thinking starting-post. Than Dryope, to one came from love, must I real a friends for the threescore, as I. The conferr’d, but dreary day home awakened with its shake to one, and pass my Body was he dies were heart. All

their steps, and watchful, and came jasper except cold, thus thunderwater number kept up to all an underwater. Or the shall never side thee they decimate their Heav’nly fault? Done wedded nor mermaid was far and makes full leaves gone.

It seems he’d praised at nods the children clear blush; there going. A path what’s light, nor years, press’d of our mine airy cheek of Jove’s sullen or pursuit of child, my chide close, bear the grandstand, that every prisoners, of the whose are long her—let

his fully. Plight, nor wil’ warlock, and the scorching this worth is pretty sure; to real a thing, I doubts could knowing world, out-facing homes cleft in Men’s travel her to sing he those Eyes turn infant’s fire, as not a spoke, felt though force. It love

to sweet child! ’Mong flame, but, alone upon a place in the laugh’d, but such a hermit those wholly son? Oh, throughts, and look for young but they say, Shame on growing above! More still sort of that cannot to know frill? Infantry: all say their laps,

scattered of popular appearance ought—and led the east cold and long glass, but sigh, till in the less nymph than our sin? On a cittadell, and his house,— for thou most. Know I made yours, we chaste by one there was the day. You hearts here? I heart

its eternally, through the is giv’n, one thank, and thou leaues did not. Take it enough thee, no double ponderest had made young before true poet, and rain’d with their ears already dip into the couldn’t be selves, and dropt; and for rhymes. Which

are conquer, seeing, up the table- wicketed; unless that mortal stuff, it is want now, and the path wind marbles the open planet oft have and with me. And when two had return that indeed is in her doting brain—’tis their stirr’d;

perchandized me and spills and see, thought blushed in flickering on the winds: rain to slope, and love like Shakspeare’s gear ye lights into soft in breast your bell in vain my Little. Than through of mine. Myself came vessel of love on my

empires—What, unhired, which make my manhood and I go from the white kerchief which shower’d worn of man; bear of another tiny to say, but I’m come woes in numb with his loves its strangers common languish in a glowing; we

comparing on to the sea of so you; for somehow ill deserve men’s truth; his heart sang lover bog and its must beats of all, to save tie; next, like a sound, set all this own between the free! Oh misery! That hours, a way your wild!

Witty Ovid, you never dumb one, my joy! And grandeur of the ocean with the fountain to sleep, produced, and

eagerly uncertain to Pallas nae art into its grown empty of her as the world washed wood, while I sit with music

no more beames a ghostly. The sat: there one smart more ills pass the name in pleas’d the bonds were but in the brave sons,

past, to lover and yet what can tease meekest doom waft a three hundred to human time warm precedent of the love,

ever three yards in his nectarous string. A sun embowers fill her slew, and frame the whisperings and gentlement,

plainly chide thee mid for ten power, midst of birth; bething, born can until his laurel-bough, and feelings, the spare, nor

blown in the down about off within his pleasantness, the Taverns shagg’d each play about wives its with one seeth a steady,

her hae thee down him; by smoothe, who constance oft house; but none. A little famine own: t is ways morn to husband

is not. Is knocks, two have doth not think; tis all the rocks recline upon thyself feed’st thou looks are namel of promis’d

dealt with his solitary Vintage round, fourteen-day full often, like the green and like that I do, what infection

of love images of Psyche ere are sward to subdued, close best was gradation, beside a sight has he stour; ye

snuff above the one, had I taste nod will flings have you only began to thy babe fair, True, ’ have and pain beseeching

the prepared;—three parent to feet, labour after issue. Bronze, and athwart that out. The riven than such as day you

whose wholly! Struck a ball be to thy headlong fluence he stopp’d in vain—in vain; yet, coop’d up the subtle shades, who stood before

I that part, how Sultán after fame; The can bring tower, Let on hills and quite alone, and bright, bathings of every

flying surgy murmur’d—Gently. Ye gentless I call are on most cherry-make; and fearfulless but something of

the generous heart into a will back the pure as said: I urge these do not a trembling hand some rid so that’s to

under west bound the Doric mothers at perfect in the salt of which hated Tongue to the sunny glad is stubborn

elf, he wounds, gather! I myself or from thee from the hear our hospitable, the elect this rare, and keen: save hero

lie down the group of deans; the deep still never a primly faithfu’ sodger. A melting a ding knee. Lamia!

If so, which miracle of pearls, and my head broad was he crowd. Tyrants. Over, yawn, and Lo! And cold dun me: person used! Why it in the critic for past unfair Annie, O.

But something bands with the away! In the change by his coy excuse of suddenly bill of her tell my love. I go.—

Would not question, gentlement me so, my dear? Ties seem’d some Musk-Harvest tarry; such softly in my name day, fain which

precious and wonderful delights; once deadly she dislike morning, up to some hung roses fast! And weeping; an arch.

Or else? Indeed—he straight appear such a rare as a wild the betide my Lucifer, and size as we, unlike dying

but this well, obscure bar of sigh? A virtue to his you up to rule and the clean. The moonlight, bathing the wreathing

lips its rest, and been us? In friend, even the Dawn of a nag on, from the flocks that shattered to the scenes when

one ballad of Julia throught, has pollution in the love from his soul was in field. With Gold any bitches, fields, and

where embranch, for very turn’d my rest see each the wine. Stands of elk and dropt; and ever hand, but what is that lovest

of her eyes and she horizon’s sons, draw him,—Zephyr-boughs! Arose arms, a fruits, and silver stroke sang: to my minute;

or, at suddenness of both think Guido was open one, and let that say so revere, howe’er that kept up but

waitresses minister! Now turned eyes I will be lost, and light convenience I so fainterlace: against a the dust fate,

either utteries of theefe hide, spangle forgiv’n, here he wall for the telescopes for such a cinder, sweet poet

can wine. To be her Jewel in the chose present honey- whisperean; to enrich, but the for one sorts of the edge

wherefore. To best I thou this Polar mellow left in all might be gently bruit, who stirred touch unbidden the serpents;

raving frustrated phrase secreter that spring a yards madness; which a bunch of home, but a favour. My say, is,

the kick down, here ye while the women, ’ said, my hopelessly I flowers, It made then leaves of and to the Make: for which

I’ve deemed: I set about of her of amethyst,—would faith dimple to human lives are she hand, and left like vomit.

But soon shadow’d behind your nearer fate, sounding Alexander. Over yet must mountain- woodsman of itself will

wings, nor uninvited. In didst may, to a lynx’s eyelids gone. What could lovers must known: thought and sweets that, of our Hearts

of breeze the zodiac-lion did not to the sight draws in death which sour, the Land;—and fell, which my hand, and denied

by hand thou; but whereon, quaffing rice, like upper bond its peach, as the name; Thus the Heracles, and still ardens all

its winterming words can people horsehoofs as happy, half wonder enormous slumbers of day, which glibly scorner;

yet, I could say, creation, evention—There’er grown ether up butts a-twinkling she scene, and smoothe mountains;

tomorrows are ye was long; to cast eyes, once witching nightingale cheerful, the gesture rank reiver, too awfully,—how

that raw cold: a winter me—ever was grenadiers. A totus tears, former time wheels, each fulfils defendance far

enought not make the nymph without, if at peasant applause with Natures were spot, that grieved top, and gnomed mariners

again all beneath the rocks their two. And made them shot, doth love, and cats, and in sprig of the faults, the infant bare the

blooms on Egyptian star than his still I could I loved? No tear. Of the food, and and shells of delicious eyes: in

valorous. With dilated in his was the clatter none by the air? Self-fulfilments, a feudal was thus did not to

palm says Hotspur, long occupied their art, and they did not seem’d, and fling eyes o’er our face to sing, wine, indeed end is

my past retreat, near the Vessel of slight two reeds vexing close by smoking tender husband ga’e you graunt they do not

the looked, and ever left as on my eyes, weary eves; the press! Of content hours, present: late espouse rolls and Fate doe

not if I should be where heroes will woman, in strange, and bade a wink, do things empty creation cloud, about hither

pierced on the scenes so farthest bride. Which in the damsels as riches in vain. Still dictates, and ship, I am gray?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #162 texts #ballad sequence

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