#i am indeed filled with woe
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#had to adapt the last line to fit the format better#im sure someone has done this already#polls#zelzah speaks#i am indeed filled with woe
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JTTW BOOK CLUB
CHPT 7-9
@journeythroughjourneytothewest
Chpt 7
•”All this was probably refined in his stomach by the Samadhi fire to form a single solid mass” I know other deities can use the fire but I’m wracking my brain for when it used before(this point) specifically- My understanding was the furnace refined the immortal elixirs and fruit- I’m going to assume Laozi is just theorizing and doesn’t know what actually happened
•Diamond body….👀
•Erlang gets absolutely DRIPPED out, he earned it FR
•eyes permanently irritated by the smoke churned up the the Xun trigram, someone get this man some eye drops
•he is extra pissed
•HE JUST BODIES LAOZI IM YELLING😂
•”this cosmic being fully fused with nature’s gifts passes with ease through 10,000 toils and tests”
•Big war form out to beat serious ass, he’s not jokin bitch
•” bright and luminous; ….illustrious pearl of mani he is indeed” MMMMM comparing him to a mani- a flaming (wish granting) jewel is hilarious 💀
•Tathagata bringing in the big guns (himself)
•”how tf do you know The Way and not know who I am?? And you’re so….violent” I can sense the side eye
•I wonder if Wukong has previous incarnations?? Buddha says he just reached human form this incarnation but if his rock was there at the beginning of creation, wouldn’t his soul be ‘baking’ (for lack of a better term) the whole time until he hatched?
•” and with a total lack of respect he left a bubbling pool of monkey urine” Iconic moment LMAOOOO
•smart for Wukong to leave a momento- too bad it didn’t matter lol
•ah so he was jumping to visit the pillars again, not run away(supposedly)- he’d rather prove he’s right than escape💀 that checks out
•monkey has been squished, it is now party o’clock
•are you allowed to give the Buddha drugs if it’s an offering? Like wine??🤔 “wtf is this allowed? Wtf”
•”Wukong is wiggling out”
“Dw, take this”
*slaps tag on the mountain like flex tape*
•enough room to breathe and move his hands- I would lose my mind
•Molten copper & iron pellets mimic punishments in hell (just learned this🙏), shedding the Karma like water -I feel like 500 years is pretty good tbh considering everything
Woe molten metal and iron upon ye
Chpt 8 + 9 under cut:
Chpt 8:
•lots of lovely poems in this chapter
•a paragraph recap of the past 7 chapters
•wonder what Feast of the Ullambana Bowl is? (the notes say it’s a mass for the dead and is also know as the Ghost festival, practiced by Taoists and Buddhists)
•”the Chan mind shines bright like a thousand rivers’ moon; true nature’s pure and great as an unclouded sky.”
Lovely poem, and I’m beginning to realize this book is very heavily focused on the Chan school, which I don’t know why I didn’t pick up on sooner? White-Robed Guan Yin is a Chan specific form, usually depicted in their bamboo grove
•Tathagata reveals his 3 baskets of scripture after everyone is done presenting their poems, feels almost like he suggested the celebration to announce these
•Each basket corresponds to scriptures of Heaven, Earth, and the Damned- a total of 15,144 FUCKING SCROLLS
•oooo Guanyin poem!! “ a golden body filled with wisdom, fringes of dangling pearls and jade, …dark hair piled smartly in a coiled-dragon bun. With brows of new moon shape and eyes like two bright stars, her jadelike face beams natural joy. …Her orchid heart delights in green bamboos; her chaste nature loves the wisteria. The living Guanyin from the Cave of Tidal Sound.”
•5 Talismans: Embroidered Cassock that will protect him from falling back into the Wheel of Transmigration, a 9 ring priestly staff that will protect him from poison or harm, 3 tightening fillets- the Golden, the Constructive, and the Prohibitive Spell.
•Guanyin thinks this will take about 2 to 3 years💀 hooooo boy….
•FLOWING SAND RIVER!!! MY 2ND FAV BOY!!!
•Green and Black complexion, Gleaming eyes like the lights beneath a stove, forked mouth with teeth like knives and swords, and disheveled red hair
•like that Wujing is using a priest staff he def took from one of the monks he ate lol
•Wujing fighting Moksa for his life only to drop everything to apologize and talk to Guanyin LMAO
•MOKSA PICKS HIM UP BY THE COLLAR AKFKAKDJDJ
•ah, so Wujing didn’t reincarnate, he was changed, STABBED OVER 100 TIMES EVERY 7 DAYS AND FORCED TO COMMIT CANNABILSM SO HE DOESNT STARVE AS PUNISHMENT- THATS JUST LOVELY😭
•I like the interpretation that he could have been trying to signal a coup by breaking the crystal cup
•Guanyin hearing about Wujing’s string of skulls: it’s a surprise tool that will help us later
•BAJIE TIME
•this idiot bro “HOW DARE YOU TRY TO GET FLOWER PETALS IN MY EYES!!” “IDIOT THAT WAS GUANYIN” “…Guanyin is here??” “LOOK UP”
•Wuneng is reincarnated, he got beat to death in Heaven for hitting on Chang’e LMAOOOOO GET REKT
•ah yes, casually mentions killing his pig family and then his life of eating humans. Lovely.
•AO LIE TIME
•I committed a little accidental arson, please bail me out
•Damn, he got a really short intro
•interesting that Guanyin id’s the Peach Banquet as Wukongs fall from grace. I would def agree with this- eating the peaches like he did was extremely reckless and the beginning of the end imo
•”who tf is talking shit up there”
•No one has ever visited Wukong, I’m guessing the Guards were horrible company
•I like how both Guanyin and Sanzang try to give Wukong a religious name- Guanyin is very happy to hear he has the Wu- prefix as well lol
•arrived in Chang’an, let the hunt begin
Chpt 9:
•Chang’an bb, all blooming flowers surrounded by 8 rivers (DAMN, that’s a lot of water)
•Guangrui got first place in the examination, good for him UwU
•SURPRISE WIFE
•”gave the girl to Guangrui as his bride” UM I THINK SHES THE ONE WHO GRABBED HIM LMAO
•Guangrui has some fated beef with these two random boatmen, Liu Hong and Li Biao- states that he was destined in a previous incarnation to be enemies with them, is this a result of bad karma?
•NOOOOOO MY GUY GUANGRUI
•Liu Hong reminds me of Liu’er Mi-*gunshot*
•since they’re at the bottom of the Hong river, which Dragon King is this?
•Golden Carp coming in clutch, nice
•LADY YIN IS SO METAL LETS GO “she hated the bandit so bitterly that she wished she could devour his flesh and sleep on his skin” DO IT GURL, KILL HIM
•damn, too bad she’s pregnant with Sanzang….dw Girl I know you would kick his ass otherwise…
•there goes his toe…
•get named River Float idiot
•damn bro chill, that wasn’t very monk-like of you
•homie got called an orphan and cried JAKDJSJFJ I FEEL BAD
•she didn’t even check the toe I THOUGHT SHE DID- WHAT WAS THE POINT LMAO
•nvmnd
•I guess licking the eyes is better than spitting on them…sigh…
•GODDAMN THEY RIPPED LIU HONG AND LI BAIO APART….good for them, deserved in fact
•Lady Yin committing suicide even after she was reunited with her husband makes sense, as there was a trend where wives whose husbands died or they were assaulted, killed themselves. This was show loyalty to their husbands and add weight to their claim of SA- Lady Yin’s husband coming back does not change the fact that everyone knows she was forcefully married :((
(I use the term ‘trend’ only as a way to describe the rise and fall in wife suicides tied to either a husbands death or as a response to SA)
#FINALLY CAUGHT UP YIPPEE#I CAN… I CAN DRAW MKRE FOR THESE#<- I say this but I intentionally didn’t post last Sunday so I could make that animation for chapter 7 LMAO#…I have my priorities straight#tho the animation prevented me from doing anything for Sanzang’s chapter RIP#I would have done Lady Yin Justice I swear- she deserves soemthing nice#jttw#jttw book club#<- still not sure about that tag LMAO#Journey to the west#I’ll probably slap all my doodles in one post at some point…#Sun Wukong#tang sanzang#my art#jttw meme#tw: sui mention
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The evolution of Wednesday Addams (1)
We did the mother and the grandmother, now we need to talk about the daughter. In this month leading up to an entire television series centered around her, we cannot ignore who became one of the favorites of the Addams fans: Wednesday Addams, the only daughter of Gomez and Morticia.
Wednesday’s original appearance in the cartoons of Charles Addams was iconic enough for it to never change across adaptations. A little girl dressed in a white-collared black dress that would be perfect for a funeral, with a thin body, pale face and sleek black hair. Note that while in all adaptations Wednesday has braids, here she does not: her hair simply parts and falls around her head neatly as if she had braids, even though she has not. Her appearance is very reminiscent, in miniature, of her mother’s - she inherited a pale complexion, black hair and a tight black dress, but all the morbid glamour of Morticia is gone to rather have a sort of mournful innocence with Wednesday. One unique trait however, which makes her stand out among the rest of her family, is the way her eyes are drawn. Two black dots, as if we were in a Belgian comic book. This makes her look much “cuter” and more “cartoony”, reinforcing again this sense of innocence and somehow setting her a bit apart from the rest of her grim-looking family... But we’ll come back to that later.
It might surprise you to learn that Wednesday wasn’t originally a cold, stoic, cynical and emotionless girl. This is what the adaptations built through time but originally, Wednesday had... emotions! And not just quiet emotions, open and visible ones! In fact Wednesday smiled - and quite a lot. She showed through the cartoons a true childful glee and youthful energy in all her games and activites, be it wielding a crossbow, shooting the recreation hall monitor with arrows, or digging up bodies in the graveyard. Not only did she show joy, but she also showed anger: we have one notorious drawing of Wednesday screaming and kicking her bed due to being put on the roll of honor at school. Yes, in the original cartoons, Wednesday was able to throw a tantrum. She only shows in a few drawings a blank expression, but it seems to be usually in answer to things she doesn’t like much (such as being dressed up as an angel on Christmas).
Wednesday is seen throughout Chas’ cartoons partaking in various typical childish or girlish activites, but always with a twist. She reads books - but the book turns out to be “A werewolf in Paris” and briefly turns HER into a werewolf. She cut paper dolls - but mysteriously one in the row has three legs. She keeps watch for a bird-house in the tree... except the bird-house is a miniature replica of the Addams house, and it doesn’t attract bird but bats. Her father pushes her not on a swing-tire ; but on a broom-swing. And she is often seen playing with her dollhouse, be it for putting skeletons in a small closet or decorating the house for a funeral - sometimes, you can even see actual miniature human people living INSIDE the dollhouse. Chas often depicts Wednesday’s private bedroom (well, what seems to be her private bedroom, even though Pugsley sometimes sleeps with her in bed) - a lovely little decrepit room with an octopus painted on the bed, a cobweb-filled window, a private staircase to the attic and a bizarre mural depicting some sort of... humanoid-bird-like-child being... chased by a weird friendly spiky lizard and a snake... on what seems to be a beach? There must be some reference I am missing.
Wednesday’s childhood however is far from being all gloomy sunsets and heavy rains, so to speak - she could be considered the least “lucky” of the family members. “Wednesday, child of woe”, and indeed in Charles Addams cartoons, instead of being a true predator like in future adaptations, Wednesday is often... a victim. She seems to be the “weak” link of the chain, a bit too soft and gentle for the habits of her own family. As seen in the tantrum cartoon, she gets on a roll of honor at school while her brother is a perfectly horrible brat. Several time she seems puzzled by her own abilities, such as the bizarre paper dolls. She is seen distinctively worried when Pugsley drives his toy car alongside the family’s car on the big road - while everybody else smiles and cheers. And Pugsley is seen actually trapping his sister alive behind a wall as part of his “games”... It shows that when Charles Addams did a grim parody of Mother Goose’s Nursery Rhymes (with Grandma Addams as the Mother Goose), Wednesday appeared as Miss Muffet, scared and distraught by the sudden apparition of a disturbing giant spider... She can’t even take a break on holiday, as a drawing of her on the beach shows her scared when a hand pops out of a seashell. It seems that poor little Wednesday is a magnet for weird, surprising and disturbing things.
Now, despite all of this, one shouldn’t think that Wednesday isn’t a happy child. Far from it: she seems to be showered in love by many members of the family. Her father is especially close to her: he plays with her on the broom-swing, he does creepy shadow-puppets before she goes to sleep ; he sings the “This little piggy” rhyme to her when she goes to bed (note: it is canon that in this incarnation Wednesday has six toes on one feet)... Wednesday’s relationship with her mother seems much more distant and cold. Beyond one drawing where she is seen eating with her mother at a restaurant only for Morticia to ask for the leftover meat (in order to feed the vultures), there isn’t really any intimate, playful or loving actions between her and Wednesday. In contrast to Wednesday’s closeness to her father, this is quite jarring - but again, Morticia was designed as a cold, aloof, stern mother locking her own children in a chest when they need to be punished. The coldness of Morticia is perfectly expressed in one specific drawing: Wednesday, who just has been poisoned by Pugsley, comes rushing to her mother, only for Morticia to answer “Well don’t come whining to me. Go tell him you’ll poison him right back!”. Again, we see here how Wednesday, with her mind “too soft”, doesn’t fit immediately within the deadly and morbid logic of the family.
When talking about Pugsley, Wednesday seems to have a conflictual relationship with him (as all brothers and sisters do). As seen above, Pugsley is a bit of a bully-brother towards her, poisoning her or walling her in without Wednesday being able to do anything. He also seems to mock her when she gets on the honor roll at scholl... But at the same time, they appear very close in many other drawings, companions in mischief. They sell together poisons at a lemonade stand. They are seen tripping together the mailman, and she helps Pugsley put on a fake shark suit to frighten swimmers. They are even seen playing together at Christmas - be it warming the fire to burn Santa Claus if he ever comes down the chimney, or playing together at beheading dolls on Christmas Eve. To complete the family portrait, Grandmama is seen telling Wednesday lovely fairytales and bedtime stories where the dragon gobbles up knights and princesses before living happy ever after. Wednesday even seems to be somehow close to Lurch, as in some drawings she is seen holding his hand - while no other member of the family has any physical contact with the butler.
Charles Addams named Wednesday after the popular rhyme “Monday Child” that went as such: “Monday’s child is fair of face, / Tuesday’s child is full of grace. / Wednesday’s child is full of woe, / Thursday’s child has far to go. / Friday’s child is loving and giving, / Saturday’s child works hard for a living. / And the child born on the Sabbath day / Is bonny and blithe, good and gay.”
As for the description he gave of her for the upcoming television series, here is what he had to say:
“Child of woe, is wan and delicate with her mother’s black hair and white complexion. Sensitive and on the quiet side, she loves the picnics and outings to the underground caverns often planned by Morticia and Gomez. She is a solemn child, prim in dress and, on the whole, pretty lost. Gomez is wild about her. Secretive and imaginative, poetic, seems underprivileged and given to occasional tantrums. Has six toes on one foot.”
A last interesting note: before Wednesday became the daughter of the “family”, she was originally conceived for a series of specific drawings about a little girl playing at jumping rope all alone in a city street - two drawings to be exact. One had the little girls completely exhausted, murmuring numbers beyond the two thousand as she kept jumping and jumping, with a passing by couple giving her worried looks. The other had the little girl jumping under a streetlight alone at night in an empty street, with a disturbed or distraught look on her face.
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Finally comes the last day, usually called "Forgiveness Sunday," but whose other liturgical name must also be remembered: the "Expulsion of Adam from the Paradise of Bliss." This name summarizes indeed the entire preparation for Lent. By now we know that man was created for paradise, for knowledge of God and communion with Him. Man's sin has deprived him of that blessed life and his existence on earth is exile. Christ, the Savior of the world, opens the door of paradise to everyone who follows Him, and the Church, by revealing to us the beauty of the Kingdom, makes our life a pilgrimage toward our heavenly fatherland. Thus at the beginning of Lent, we are like Adam:
Adam was expelled from paradise through food;
Sitting, therefore, in front of it he cried:
'Woe to me . . .
One commandment of God have I transgressed,
depriving myself of all that is good;
Paradise holy! Planted for me,
And now because of Eve closed to me;
Pray to thy Creator and mine
that I may be filled again by thy blossom.'
Then answered the Savior to him:
'I wish not my creation to perish;
I desire it to be saved and to know the Truth;
For I will not turn away from him who comes to Me. . .'
Lent is the liberation of our enslavement to sin, from the prison of "this world." And the Gospel lesson of this last Sunday (Matt 6:14-21) sets the conditions for this liberation. The first one is fasting -- the refusal to accept the desires and urges of our fallen nature as normal, the effort to free ourselves from the dictatorship of flesh and matter over the spirit. To be effective, however, our fast must not be hypocritical, a "showing off." We must "appear not unto men to fast but to our Father who is in secret." The second condition is forgiveness -- "If you forgive men their trespasses, your Heavenly Father will also forgive you." The triumph of sin, the main sign of its rule over the world, is division, opposition, separation, hatred. Therefore, the first break through this fortress of sin is forgiveness: the return of unity, solidarity, love. To forgive is to put between me and my "enemy" the radiant forgiveness of God Himself. To forgive is to reject the hopeless "dead-ends" of human relations and to refer them to Christ. Forgiveness is truly a "breakthrough" of the Kingdom into this sinful and fallen world.
More under the Readmore
Lent actually begins at Vespers of that Sunday. The unique service, so deep and beautiful, is absent from so many of our churches! Yet nothing reveals better the "tonality" of Great Lent in the Orthodox Church; nowhere is better manifested its profound appeal to man.
The service begins as solemn Vespers with clergy in bright vestments. The hymns (stichira) which follow the Psalm "Lord, I have cried . . ." announce the coming of Lent and, beyond Lent, the approach of Pascha!
Let us begin the time of fasting in light!
Preparing ourselves for the spiritual efforts.
Let us purify our soul; let us purify our body.
As from food, let us abstain from all passion
and enjoy the virtues of the spirit,
so that perfected in time by love
We may all be made worthy to see
the Passion of Christ and the Holy Pascha
In spiritual joy!
Then comes, as usual, the Entrance with the evening hymn: "O Gladsome Radiance of the holy glory. . ." The celebrant then proceeds to the "high place" behind the altar for the proclamation of the evening Prokeimenon which alwyas announces the end of one and the beginning of another day. This day's Great Prokeimenon announces the beginning of Lent:
Turn not away Thy face from Thy servant
for I am afflicted!
Hear me speedily.
Attend to my soul and deliver it!
Listen to the unique melody of this verse -- to this cry that suddenly fills the Church: ". . . for I am afflicted!" -- and you will understand this starting point of Lent: the mysterious mixture of despair and hope, of darkness and light. All preparation has now come to an end. I stand before God, before the glory and the beauty of His Kingdom. I realize that I belong to it, that I have no other home, no other joy, no other goal; I also realize that I am exiled from it into the darkness and sadness of sin, "for I am afflicted!" And finally, I realize that only God can help in that affliction, that only He can "attend to my soul." Repentance is, above everything else, a desperate call for that divine help.
Five time we repeat the Prokeimenon. And then, Lent is here! Bright vestments are put aside; lights are extinguished. When the celebrant intones the petitions for the evening litany, the choir responds in the lenten "key." For the first time the lenten prayer of St. Ephraim accompanied by prostrations is read. At the end of the service all the faithful approach the priest and one another asking for mutual forgiveness. But as they perform this rite of reconciliation, as Lent is inaugurated by this movement of love, reunion, and brotherhood, the choir sings the Paschal hymns. We will have to wander forty days through the desert of Lent. Yet at the end shines already the light of Easter, the light of the Kingdom.
--Rev Dr. Alexander Schmemann: Great Lent - Journey to Pascha
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Isaiah's Vision of the Lord in His Glory
1 In the year that king Uzziah died I saw also the LORD sitting on a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple. 2 Above it stood the seraphim: each one had six wings; with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he did fly.
3 And one cried to another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory.
4 And the posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried, and the house was filled with smoke.
5 Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the middle of a people of unclean lips: for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts.
6 Then flew one of the seraphim to me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar: 7And he laid it on my mouth, and said, See, this has touched your lips; and your iniquity is taken away, and your sin purged.
Isaiah's Commission
8 Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.
9 And he said, Go, and tell this people, Hear you indeed, but understand not; and see you indeed, but perceive not.
10 Make the heart of this people fat, and make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and convert, and be healed.
11 Then said I, Lord, how long? And he answered, Until the cities be wasted without inhabitant, and the houses without man, and the land be utterly desolate,
12 And the LORD have removed men far away, and there be a great forsaking in the middle of the land.
13 But yet in it shall be a tenth, and it shall return, and shall be eaten: as a teil tree, and as an oak, whose substance is in them, when they cast their leaves: so the holy seed shall be the substance thereof.
— Isaiah 6 | American King James Version (KJVUS)
The American King James Version is Produced by Stone Engelbrite. It is a simple word for modern word update from the King James English.
Cross References: Exodus 5:8; Exodus 15:11; Exodus 41:16; Leviticus 26:31; Numbers 14:21; Numbers 16:46; Deuteronomy 7:6; Deuteronomy 28:64; Ezra 9:2; Psalm 79:5; Isaiah 5:9; Isaiah 6:6; Isaiah 40:2; Matthew 13:14-15; Mark 4:12; Luke 5:8; John 12:40-41; Acts 9:4; Acts 26:19; 1 John 1:7; Revelation 4:2-3; Revelation 4:8; Revelation 8:3; Revelation 15:8
#Isaiah#vision#Lord#glory#Isaiah's commission#Isaiah 6#Book of Isaiah#Old Testament#KJVUS#American King James Version Bible#Stone Engelbrite
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Fanfic Music Festival during Logyn Appreciation Week! Need some Loki/Sigyn
MCU FANFIC MUSIC FESTIVAL, ENTRY #3
"Go and Be Free"
Pairing: Loki x Sigyn
Summary: Sigyn watches Loki go off to Midgard again the day after their wedding, but she knows better than to hold him back...
Word Count: 700
Content Warning: sad fluff
“My darling and wife,” he said to her as he led her around the floor in a dizzying whirl, her pristine white gown creating a blurred vortex as she spun, “I regret to inform you that I must leave in the morning.”
Lady Sigyn sighed, half in woe and half in exasperation. “Midgard again, I presume?”
Loki nodded. “My employer awaits contact from there. Our plans will be coming to fruition soon.”
Admittedly, Sigyn felt a twinge of disappointment. She knew her husband had no intention for a long, drawn-out honeymoon, especially not when some glorious purpose awaited him just beyond the horizon. However, she knew what she was signing up for when she accepted Loki’s ring on her finger. She knew her dreams of domesticity, a houseful of fat children, and a long life in the countryside was never on the table.
Yet, she married him anyway.
Theirs was certainly an odd pairing. After all, upon reaching the age to claim her domain from Asgard as a goddess, she’d chosen fidelity and victory, and since when did ‘fidelity’ mix well with Loki’s own ‘mischief’?
All of Asgardian Society questioned when Loki officially named Sigyn his intended bride, wondering if Sigyn would be more suited to the knight-like Thor. Indeed, matching with the elder brother would have made much more sense. Thor’s personal code of honor was well-defined, and he would be infinitely more satisfying of a provider and father to her children than Loki, Lord of Chaos and Uncertainty, ever would (or so the nobles murmured when they thought she was out of earshot).
Somehow, their courtship proved the naysayers very, very wrong. Sigyn knew the moment she touched Loki’s hand that he needed her, and she needed him. No matter how far he strayed, Sigyn knew Loki wasn’t what the others warned her about.
“I know what they think of me, of us,” Loki said as he drew her body close to his. Her light, gossamer wedding gown was so thin that she could almost feel his heavy leather against her skin. “That I’m going off to have affairs.”
“How dare they think so lowly?” Sigyn replied. “Do you not have the power to silence them?”
Loki shook his head. “Only the opinion of one matters to me.”
Sigyn blushed as Loki took a hand and caressed her face tenderly. A single tear escaped from her eye, and Loki brushed it away with his thumb.
“Oh love, do not cry. Not at our nuptial feast,” he said quietly.
“I know you do this for our future,” the new bride answered. “I know the only mistress awaiting you on Midgard is that secret employer of yours, with promises not of carnal manner, but of glorious victory, which brings you as much pleasure as a lover ever could.”
Loki smiled and nodded. “You know my entire soul, in spite of what they say.”
“And yet…I fear much,” she responded. “There’s always the chance you will never return. I don’t want to be a widow before I am a true wife and mother.”
The husband drew the bride’s gaze to meet his own by slipping a finger under her chin and raising her head. “Now hear me…I will always come home to you. And when my Glorious Purpose is completed on Midgard, we will make a Valhalla on Asgard, all our own. And I will fill you with my children over and over, until we can’t stand how many we have, and we will find our happy ending together.”
“I know, my love and light,” Sigyn answered, still feeling the tears come. “We will prove everyone wrong when you come home to me.”
“Now,” Loki proposed, “Darling, I grow tired of these revelries. What do you say we adjourn to our chambers and consummate our marriage before the dawn draws me away and towards my destiny?”
-------
Sigyn, wife of Loki, watched her groom fly away, off into the Bifrost before she was a bride for 18 hours.
“He needs this,” she said to herself. “He must do what he needs to do. After then, he will give it all to me, and at last, we will be whole.”
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@mochie85 @lokisgoodgirl @roruna @holdmytesseract @muddyorbs @xorpsbane @mischief2sarawr @fictive-sl0th @silverfire475
#loki#fanfiction#loki fanfiction#loki laufeyson#loki x sigyn#logyn#sigyn#fanfic music festival#fanfic festival
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Heart Bound: Chapter XXVI
Chapter 25 | Heart Bound on AO3
CHAPTER XXVI - Crossroads
******************
It is over. For now, it is over.
Every shaky breath reminds Emma that she was close to losing her position. That George Spencer almost had the satisfaction of dismissing her.
But Killian… He saved her.
He put himself in harm’s way, knowing Spencer can seek revenge for his defiance, and shifted the town’s scrutiny from her to the future constable. Nominating David, of all people, was a stroke of brilliance.
She is proud of him. If her heart were not so occupied with rejoicing over her escape, it might focus more on the man who thought only of helping her.
“Miss Swan – Emma.” She turns to see August approaching. Looking for Killian, she sees him leaving the building, shutting the door behind him. He left without saying goodbye. “I want to congratulate you on your fine speech. I have faith that the good people of this town see you as I do: a skilled teacher, and a remarkable woman.”
His smile is warm and reassuring. He reaches for her hand and kisses it as a gentleman would.
Still, she looks back at the door. What is this void her heart wishes to fill? What is missing, that she feels the need to find it?
Sudden and sharp. Warm and caring. That is what love is. She has been a coward, afraid to move forward with her life. Neal injured her and left her broken, a bird with clipped wings. But her wings are healing, and she wants to fly again. To be brave and not look back at what the past has done to her.
She wants to live. She wants to love Killian and not fear what is to come.
She does love him. Everything her mind told her – that he would leave her, hurt her, tire of her – those were lies. She must believe in his goodness, just as he has learned to believe in himself again. Because of her. He had the strength to tell her what was in his own heart, despite his despair, heartbreak, and endless disappointment.
Now she must tell him what is in hers.
Finally, she turns to August and gently releases her hand from his hold. “August… You are so kind to me, you and your father. And I like you. You make me laugh, and I enjoy your companionship more than words can say. But…”
“You love someone else.” He smiles sadly. “It’s all right, Emma. I know. I saw the way you looked at him.”
“At whom?”
August chuckles, peering down at his shoes. “I may not be the best with words, but I do notice things. Too many things. The woes of a carpenter, shall we say.”
She clasps her hands, wishing she knew how to comfort him. “I am so sorry if I said or did anything–”
“No, no – none of that, now. You did nothing wrong.”
Guilt and misery intertwine until she does not know what else to say. “I hope we can still be friends.”
“Certainly.” He clears his throat, then gazes up at her with the beginnings of a grin. “Especially if we are to defeat the likes of George Spencer once and for all. Did you see his face when Jones named David for constable? I had a hard time keeping a straight face.”
She can’t help but chuckle. “He seemed about to explode.”
“Yes indeed! Well, we shall see what develops. I’m glad that this meeting is over. It’s getting late, though, and this is not the most private place for a discussion. Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you home? We can speak more along the way.”
Grateful, she accepts his arm. “Thank you, August. I’d like that very much.”
***********************
The night was restless and empty, but she survived. Sleep was dreamless, a welcome respite from waking nightmares. Now that morning is here, it is a struggle to pull herself from the warmth of her covers and slide out of bed.
She blindly reaches for the pitcher, gasping as the ice-cold water engulfs her face. Immediately, she is fully awake. The rest of her routine is simple and quick. She is dressed and searching for bread and milk in her cupboards when she hears a knock at the door.
Nothing surprises her more than to see Mary Margaret on the other side. She is covered in a black shawl, her face peeking out, as if she didn’t want to be recognized. “Hello, Emma.” Her voice is small and sad. It worries her. “I hope I’m not intruding. May I come in?”
Peering out at the skyline, she can see it is barely after dawn. “Yes, of course.” She ushers her inside. “Make yourself comfortable by the fire.”
Emma reaches for a chunk of wood and drops it in the hearth. The flames crackle upward and then begin to devour the new offering.
Neither of them speaks. The silence grows until she is clasping her hands together, feeling awkward and unsure how to start a conversation. Mary Margaret is staring at the flames, her cheeks rosy and bright, reflecting the glow of the fire.
“How is…Ruth and David?” She clears her throat. “How are you? We’ve not spoken for some time. I hope all is well.”
“He lied to me, Emma. Hid this from me.” She doesn’t even turn her head. Her voice is emotionless, drained of her usual vivacity. “George Spencer threatened him, and he didn’t even tell me.”
She bites down hard on her lower lip. What can she say to that?
“He was about to lose everything, and still, he was silent. He wanted to be the brave man, protecting his family. So brave, that he told me – his fiancée – nothing. I had to learn at a public function that he was in debt and his farm was in danger. That his life was in danger.”
She bows her head, crumpling in her chair, on the brink of tears.
Slowly, Emma reaches over and covers her hand with hers. Mary’s fingers, curled into a fist, white from the strain, relax ever so slightly.
“I know he did not do it to hurt you, Mary.” She squeezes her hand. “He did not do this out of selfishness. David is a good man. You know that.”
“Oh, I do.” Her voice wavers. “I do know he’s good. I’ve always known it. It’s part of why I love him so much. It’s why this hurts so much – that he thought I couldn’t help him, that I wouldn’t understand.”
“I don’t think it was that at all. Yes, he was ashamed and broken. But he didn’t want to drag you into this mess. George Spencer is cruel and relentless. What good would it do if you fought him, too? He would go after you.”
She sniffles, then swallows hard. “Well. No matter the reason, it’s over now.”
Puzzled, Emma leans closer. “What do you mean, it’s over?”
“He can no longer go after David. It’s over. I’ve…taken care of it.”
Memories from the past, terrible ones, whirl in her head and leave her breathless. Her heart begins to race. “How have you taken care of it? He wants money or David’s land.”
She shakes her head and then finally looks at Emma. Her eyes are red, and there are countless tear stains on her cheeks. “When Papa died, all I had left of him was our land. It was a small parcel, not much to look at, but it meant everything to him. He used to tell me I was the queen and he was my humble servant.” She tries to smile. “I’d always laugh and say he was the king and I was a princess – not a queen yet. He called me Snow White. Said I looked the part of a fairy tale.”
An overwhelming cloud of dread settles in the air. Something terrible is coming, and she is helpless to stop it.
“I have been holding on to the land for so long that I’ve forgotten why he gave it to me. He wanted me to use it, to build a future for myself. And what have I done? Nothing. I have nothing, and I am nothing.”
“Nonsense. You are a wonderful person, Mary Margaret,” she protests. “When you walk into a room, it brightens. You are a beacon of light in so many lives – not just David’s, but mine, Ruth’s, Killian’s. We love you.”
“Thank you, Emma. That means so much, coming from you. You’re a good friend.” Then she chokes back a sob. “But I cannot go on like this. I cannot. That is why I’m here. I need your help, your advice.”
“Anything.” She desperately hopes it’s something she can do.
“I…I sold my land.”
Emma guessed as much, but this couldn’t be just what was bothering her. Property is valuable. With the sale of her land, she can live anywhere she wants.
Hiccuping, she takes a deep breath and continues. “I sold my land to George Spencer. The value of my land…for David’s. To cancel his debt.”
“You gave George Spencer your land?” She can hardly believe what she is hearing. “You traded your land for David’s land?”
“Yes.”
“His mortgage is gone? No more eviction?”
“Yes. George Spencer is a snake, but he assured me that my parcel was adequate compared to the enormity of the Nolans’ debt. He seemed rather pleased about the whole transaction.”
“Naturally, he is pleased. He won. Whether David becomes the constable or not, Spencer has your land and the satisfaction of degrading you to debase David.”
“I made my choice, Emma. Ruth is ill. I saw her last week, and she could barely lift her knitting needles. She looked so tired and cold. And David works so hard. I could not sit in my cottage and do nothing.”
It comes to Emma’s attention that in all the time she’s been here in Storybrooke, she never once visited Mary Margaret in her own house. She always went to David’s home, because that’s where she assumed Mary Margaret would be. Did she unintentionally take her friend for granted as much as David did?
“In any case, it is done. I do not have many belongings, so for now, they are with Granny and Ruby. I have said my goodbyes.”
Horrible fear strikes her heart. “You’re not leaving Storybrooke?”
“I have no home now. Where will I go?” The enormity of what she has done stuns her. Her face crumbles. “I’m frightened. Emma, I’m so frightened. What should I do now?”
“What about David?”
“Their cottage is too small for the two of them, let alone me. I dare not ask. And after this, how can I face him again? He was so proud after the town meeting – that he stood up to George Spencer once and for all, that he was brave enough to do it. When he hears that I paid his debt… He will never speak to me again. But I did not want to watch them be evicted from their home. It’s all they have. So I gave all I had left to give.”
She starts to sob in earnest. Emma stands up from her chair and goes in front of where Mary Margaret is sitting. Kneeling down, she wraps her arms around her dear friend, who is falling apart. She leans into the embrace.
So engrossed in her own suffering, she never realized that Mary Margaret was going through so much conflict and pain. What a terrible friend she has been, more interested in self-pity than the feelings of those around her.
First Killian, now Mary Margaret.
“You don’t need to leave Storybrooke. That’s exactly what that bastard wants,” she whispers. “I don’t know how much I can fight him, but I won’t let you leave. You need to stay here. David will understand. I know he will. You have such a good heart. You could never love someone who didn’t have one as well.”
Mary Margaret cries harder into her shoulder.
Looking around, she sees the teapot on the stove, the open window, the hastily arranged sheets on her bed. The room is small, but two people could live here. It is not impossible.
Emma starts to smile. George Spencer is going to leave Storybrooke quite disappointed. He is not going to hurt Mary Margaret or the Nolans anymore. He is not going to hurt Killian, either. And she’ll be damned if he ever threatens her again.
She is going to fight back herself, the only way she knows how. And she knows exactly whom to ask for help.
If you can’t fight fire with fire, use water. Use rags if you have to. Put the fire out and rake the ashes away.
The tides have turned. It is time George Spencer stopped suffocating this town.
***********************
Vines have begun to creep up the lighthouse walls. Sprouts are also shooting up, reminding Killian that sooner or later, flowers will be here.
Which means even more work for him, damn it.
He woke up at the crack of dawn, and he is still tending to the garden. Never mind that he has dozens of other duties.
First, he must take care of his thirsty plants while the sun is still weak. Then he can sit for hours in that sauna, where the clear glass and penetrating light make his daily tasks unbearable.
Wiping away sweat from his brow, he puts down the empty water bucket, peels off his glove with his teeth, and straightens, stretching his tired back. He glances at the path, then looks again, staring hard.
No, it cannot be. Can it?
Is his tired mind imagining his hopeful wish? Is it a mirage?
Indeed, it is a vision. But it is real, and the sight makes his heart leap out of his chest, desperate and aching.
“Killian!” She waves and starts running toward him, pulling up her skirts so she can go faster. He drops the hoe he picked up and hurries out of the pen, jumping over the low fence he erected.
Emma is in his arms before he knows what to think.
He wants to ask why she is here, but he does not. All he can see is how dirty he is from gardening, how radiant she looks, how he really needs to wash his arms and face.
How much he has missed her. How much his heart has needed her, becoming whole the instant it feels her answering heartbeat.
A moment passes. Saying nothing, she touches his cheek. He leans into that touch, covering her hand with his. Her piercing gaze softens.
Just as he is about to open his mouth – to say something, anything – she leans up and presses her lips against his in a fervent kiss.
******************
Yes, it's finally here! I'm so excited to share this. Things start to pick up and we're going in a new direction. I definitely recommend the song "Hold My Hand" by Lady Gaga as inspiration for this chapter. 😊 Please reblog or comment if you can - I appreciate it!
Chapter 27 on Tumblr
Heart Bound on AO3
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Look, Shyael & Renfelt deserve a quiet night in :3c
"I was wondering why the light in my room was on."
Renfelt stood in the bathroom doorway, leaned nonchalantly against the frame. The bathroom was part of a larger apartment suite, one that took up the entirety of the upper floor of a townhome that had been requisitioned for the war effort as the Imperial front had pressed forward. It was certainly an upgrade from the field tent that the knight had called home at the beginning of the campaign.
Shyael looked at the knight from her place half buried in a mountain of suds that floated atop her bathwater, one foot dangling lazily over the side of the tub. Her eyes were hooded, and the smile on her face gave the impression of a pleased cat. Beside the tub was a small footstool. Atop it was a tray that bore an open bottle of wine, some fine cheese she had procured from the kitchen, and a bunch of grapes.
"You were taking too long, so I thought I would help myself," the courtesan said, reaching languidly for the grapes. She placed the fruit suggestively between her lips before biting down on it. "I am rather lonely though. A shame there isn't a big, strong, knight about to lend his warmth to the water."
"A shame, indeed," Renfelt replied, clearly amused. "Should I go find you one?"
Shyael stuck her lower lip out in a pout and shifted in the tub, rising up some so that the bubbles just hid anything Renfelt might find tantalizing to look at. "There's not enough time," she said. "You'll just have to fill in."
"I suppose I make that sacrifice." Renfelt pushed himself off the doorframe and pulled his shirt over his head. Shyael beamed, shifting back in the tub to make room for him. She reached for the wine bottle and filled a second glass she had secreted underneath the footstool.
"You came prepared, I see," Renfelt said, as he shed his trousers and under clothes.
"I have no idea what you mean," the courtesan replied, lifting the glass and offering it to him.
"I am sure," the knight replied. He took the glass and stepped into the tub, sinking down into the warm water and letting the bubbles consume him. Shyael wasted no time coming over to settle in his lap, body pressed against him as she rested her head in the crook of his neck.
"I swear I can hear you purring," Renfelt teased.
The courtesan playfully swatted his chest before nuzzling deeper against him. "Shut up. I missed you."
"I was only gone a few hours."
"A few hours where I was alone, with nothing to do and no one to entertain me." Shyael placed a hand over her forehead, feigning dramatic woe.
Renfelt chuckled, leaning down to kiss her. "Well, I am here now. So would you like me to make up for lost time?"
Shyael let a slow smile cross her blue lips as she adjusted herself in his lap. She placed a hand on his cheek and pulled his lips back to hers. "I would like that very much, sir knight. Very much, indeed."
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FFxivWrite Day 7: Pawn
Though Lord Emmanellain had insisted this was a small gathering by Ishgardian standards, citing the “bygone tea party and soiree-filled days of his youth” (which even Tataru had found it difficult not to snort over), barely two bells had passed before Moro’a almost found himself overwhelmed by an endless parade of greeting, bowing, and other such courtesies as he was faced with noble after noble. Though there were only a handful of representatives from the other three High Houses, the names of several other Houses had come up – lords and ladies who had a lesser involvement on the front lines of the Dragonsong War, and thus more time to spend attending banquets, he supposed.
However, even the minor nobility were not to be trifled with. Word travelled fast, and rumours all the quicker, and House Fortemps needed to maintain a sufficient degree of respectability amongst the upper echelons of society to carry out its duties. Moro’a had picked up as much on the Scions’ first day in Ishgard, and again when Count Edmont had subtly impressed upon him that his attendance was paramount to the evening’s success. The House’s reputation had already suffered a blow from their decision to take them in as wards, and his cooperation in allaying the nobles’ worst assumptions would help the Scions as much as it would benefit House Fortemps.
For weal or woe, their guests seemed morbidly curious about the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, particularly him. Even as he stood next to Tataru and Alphinaud, both of whom had naturally taken to the evening’s conversations, every other question would be directed towards the infamous, already-storied Warrior of Light – what was this dreadful business about riots in Ul’dah, what was it like for an outsider to combat dragons? And if it was indeed true that he had defeated the XIVth Legion, just how had he accomplished such a feat? They knew just enough to know the juiciest topics to strike for, and yet too little to engage with meaningfully – an odd position that left Moro’a increasingly frustrated, until he had at last retreated to a corner of the room to hide behind a glass of champagne and a spoon of tuna tartare, lest he accidentally slight a noble with a poorly-chosen phrase or expression. He wasn’t built for the prim, delicate needle-threading of politicking.
From across the room, he saw Haurchefant turn to face him and flash a small, apologetic smile, before a pair of Elezen women in lavishly-frilled gowns demanded his attention. The nobility were likely bombarding his friend with questions too, and Moro’a hoped they weren’t being too forward or scathing in their opinions. It was Haurchefant, after all, who had convinced his father to grant them passage into the city, whether they knew it or not.
It was growing warm in the dining room; Moro’a shifted in his new raiments. They were fussier than anything he’d ever worn, but he’d not been in a position to refuse them for the occasion. He was debating on trying some of the more unfamiliar morsels of food when he saw a young gentleman walking towards him, no doubt with the intention of speaking to him. Steeling himself, he put on a polite smile as he stood up to greet the man.
“Master Kihshimo. An honour and a pleasure to meet you at last; I am Lord Eaudent de Rougecarpe.” The lord bowed deeply, far more than it seemed necessary to.
“A pleasure to meet you in turn, milord.” Moro’a bowed back. The lord had a pleasant enough air about him, he reasoned – it would be wise not to act cautious right off the bat.
“If I might skip the usual pleasantries – I chanced to hear in passing of your feats as an adventurer,” Lord Eaudent continued. “I could not help but conclude that you might just be the answer to my House’s predicament. ‘Tis a situation that requires a capable man, one possessed with a ready aptitude for the, ah, outdoors.”
Moro’a was tempted to raise an eyebrow, though he managed to refrain. The lord was extremely bold to make a request of him this way, given he was not only the ward of a High House, but one who still had a questionable reputation. This man was either foolish, desperate, or possessed of great cunning, and Moro’a needed to ascertain which one he was.
“Myself and the other Scions are currently assisting the Count de Fortemps in a matter of House Fortemps, as things would have it.” Moro’a replied carefully.
Lord Eaudent smiled, his mouth just an ilm too wide. “Of course, of course. I would not be so uncouth as to borrow the Count’s ward without his blessing.” The lord turned away slightly, gazing just past Moro’a towards the window. “Forgive my forwardness. The winds of uncertainty do blow fiercely these days, and with the precarious balance on which my House lies, I must seek any solution I can…” He let that sentence hang in the air, as though to prompt a further response from Moro’a.
Godsdammit. Moro’a searched for the best way to indicate an open mind without implying any form of agreement. He could not outright reject the lord, not when an opportunity to perform a service for another House might just win them much-needed favour. “I know not if I will find myself with the time to spare once it has been settled, however…”
“Lord Eaudent! Is that you, old boy?” Lord Emmanellain had materialised from thin air to unceremoniously insert himself between the two of them. Moro’a had never been so glad to see him. “Why, I was just looking for your esteemed countenance, as you see….” The lordling’s voice faded as he spirited Eaudent de Rougecarpe away with little effort, leaving Moro’a blinking in surprise. Lord Artoirel appeared at his side a moment later.
“I thought it prudent to make use of my brother’s talents. They do prove useful on occasion,” Lord Artoirel stated quietly, in that matter-of-fact way of his. “My father asked that you acquaint yourself with the other nobles, and with good reason. But I would warn you to keep a polite distance from Lord Eaudent.”
And just like that, the older Fortemps brother left, likely to attend to some other guests. There’d been no explanation of why he needed to avoid the Rougecarpe lord – Moro’a would have to ask Lord Artoitel later, or find out on his own.
Turning to the window, he exhaled with a muted sigh, as much as he could within earshot of the nobility. How easily he might have been roped into another web of schemes had the Fortemps not intervened on his behalf. The Pillars was a battlefield of its own, and he needed to be more careful if he didn’t want to be manipulated for yet another powerful figure’s ulterior motives.
#ffxivwrite2022#ffxivwrite#kae scribbles#tried adjusting moro'a's miqo'te grip (tm) on the glass lol this was the best i could achieve
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Soft
A dear friend of mine whom I have not communicated with in a while recently messaged me. After sharing sentiments about my children and her new grandbabies, she concluded with soft words that reached straight into my heart: “Be well and please write more in the new year. Your words are a gift.”
What a gigantic wake up call, coming in the subtlest form like an ever-so-light tap on the shoulder, a casual but impactful “by the way...”
It’s been 15 months since I’ve written a blog. For years, I wrote much more regularly, usually every few months. The process was cathartic for me and, hopefully, the writings at least somewhat thought-provoking or entertaining to readers. I could give plenty of excuses for not putting pen to paper as of late: I have been growing my piano studio, teaching many more students. My weekends have been filled with college kid activities. I spent a good portion of this summer helping a loved one find a new home, which was not an easy feat in such a competitive housing market. These reasons for being lax to blog are all valid...and yet all garbage. Because if I’m honest with myself, the truth is much deeper. I have fallen so far into the trap of knuckling down just to get through my harder days (which have been more frequent lately) that I have forgotten the importance of the softer way of managing the downs of life: release, renewal and reflection. For me, these three R’s have always been achieved most effectively in the form of creative expression through music making and writing.
So I say to you, dear readers, as well as to myself, “Hello again.” And then, a gentle question: “Are you being soft with yourself and with others?” This query is pertinent any time of year, but particularly so around the holiday season, which can be an emotional minefield if all is not well within one’s soul. Grief, family conflicts, chronic illness, financial woes - they feel even heavier this time of year. Our stories vary, and how we process and respond to them may be different as well. Judgement is hard. Acceptance is soft. Be soft.
Speaking of grief, there is a young lady who, through her own gift of introspective writing, has greatly impacted me this year. Her chronicles of her own hardship have helped to reaffirm my life-long commitment to authentic, kind, conscious living. Maybe they too were a calling for me to return to writing. We don’t know each other personally, but I knew her father. He was a big, tall, tough looking man who worked in the healthcare industry and racked up awards in ironman competitions. His soft, caring heart, however, was even larger than his presence or the weights he lifted. It was why people gravitated to him. In the tortuous months leading up to his death this fall from an aggressive brain tumor, his daughter would occasionally post her insights on the website her family used to give updates on his health journey. I was continuously drawn to and inspired by her words, not because of the strength she demonstrated in the face of such tragedy - which was undeniably admirable - but because of her sincere honesty and vulnerability. Her softness was powerful.
Indeed, oftentimes the staunchly determined rally cries of “We will get through this!” aren’t heard as clearly and accepted as easily as the unsteady, candid whispers of “I don’t know how,” “I’m scared,” and “This feels like too much to bear.”
I, too, lost a father this year. My beloved stepdad passed away in November from cancer. There were other losses. I lost a friendship that was more important to me that even I care to admit. I lost hope that good conquers evil. After a series of disappointments, I lost some of my positivity and faith. And at times I feel like all of this loss is making me lose myself.
After some reflection, though, I am starting to realize that loss was never the perpetrator. It was how I was responding to loss that has been doing me in. My ruthless industriousness has been an ideal way to keep the pain at bay. My occasional dissociation has felt like the perfect answer to preventing a panic attack. My vigilant care of others has become a welcome distraction. Instead of mourning my disappointments, I have been fueling myself with anger and resentment. Admittedly, I have been getting a tad bit harder hearted because that has kept my sad thoughts and anxious feelings more under control. Mistakenly I began to believe this was a healthier path.
But as a wise person once told me, grief is like an old man in a rocking chair. It's in no hurry. It will peer around its newspaper now and then and ask if you are ready to experience it. Not yet? No problem. It will wait. Keep busy. Keep that shield of hardness. Keep telling everyone you are okay. Then one day, when you least expect it, grief will visit. It must visit.
Grief visited today. I got sad and quiet. I got soft. After the tears fell, I felt a tiny bit better...more like myself. Maybe, just maybe, grief and I will have more of these gatherings. After all, grief is wise. Grief has lessons to teach. Grief knows that pain, denial, disillusionment and anger will either kill something or educate you on where the real work needs to be done. The choice is always ours. Let us be brave enough to choose to learn. Let us be brave enough to choose to feel it all - the good and the bad - but to keep our hearts open. Most of all, let us choose to sleep soundly knowing that there is a God who recognizes our deepest needs and will lead us to their fulfillment, sometimes in the most unexpected ways...like a casual message from a friend.
It is bedtime now. I welcome the routine where one of my cats will visit me after I climb into bed and shut off the lights. He will curl up with his back next to my chest as I lay on my side in the darkness, him in the crook of my arm, the little spoon to my bigger spoon. He will be sweet. He will be warm. He will be fuzzy. But most importantly, he will be soft.
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“I will stand at my watch and station myself on the ramparts; I will look to see what he will say to me, and what answer I am to give to this complaint. Then the Lord replied: “Write down the revelation and make it plain on tablets so that a herald may run with it. For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay. “See, the enemy is puffed up; his desires are not upright— but the righteous person will live by his faithfulness— indeed, wine betrays him; he is arrogant and never at rest. Because he is as greedy as the grave and like death is never satisfied, he gathers to himself all the nations and takes captive all the peoples. “Will not all of them taunt him with ridicule and scorn, saying, “ ‘Woe to him who piles up stolen goods and makes himself wealthy by extortion! How long must this go on?’ Will not your creditors suddenly arise? Will they not wake up and make you tremble? Then you will become their prey. Because you have plundered many nations, the peoples who are left will plunder you. For you have shed human blood; you have destroyed lands and cities and everyone in them. “Woe to him who builds his house by unjust gain, setting his nest on high to escape the clutches of ruin! You have plotted the ruin of many peoples, shaming your own house and forfeiting your life. The stones of the wall will cry out, and the beams of the woodwork will echo it. “Woe to him who builds a city with bloodshed and establishes a town by injustice! Has not the Lord Almighty determined that the people’s labor is only fuel for the fire, that the nations exhaust themselves for nothing? For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. “Woe to him who gives drink to his neighbors, pouring it from the wineskin till they are drunk, so that he can gaze on their naked bodies! You will be filled with shame instead of glory. Now it is your turn! Drink and let your nakedness be exposed! The cup from the Lord’s right hand is coming around to you, and disgrace will cover your glory. The violence you have done to Lebanon will overwhelm you, and your destruction of animals will terrify you. For you have shed human blood; you have destroyed lands and cities and everyone in them. “Of what value is an idol carved by a craftsman? Or an image that teaches lies? For the one who makes it trusts in his own creation; he makes idols that cannot speak. Woe to him who says to wood, ‘Come to life!’ Or to lifeless stone, ‘Wake up!’ Can it give guidance? It is covered with gold and silver; there is no breath in it.” The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him.”
Habakkuk 2:1-20 NIV
#jesus loves us#praise god#jesus is coming#jesus loves me#jesusisthelightoftheworld#god is good#highest praise#jesus loves you#joyful#praise the lord#seek jesus#be blessed#god is merciful#god is my refuge#god is with us#love you all#christian motivation#christianity#bible verse
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27th July >> Mass Readings (USA)
Wednesday, Seventeenth Week in Ordinary Time.
(Liturgical Colour: Green)
First Reading
Jeremiah 15:10, 16-21
Why is my pain continuous?– If you repent, you shall stand in my presence.
Woe to me, mother, that you gave me birth!
a man of strife and contention to all the land!
I neither borrow nor lend,
yet all curse me.
When I found your words, I devoured them;
they became my joy and the happiness of my heart,
Because I bore your name,
O LORD, God of hosts.
I did not sit celebrating
in the circle of merrymakers;
Under the weight of your hand I sat alone
because you filled me with indignation.
Why is my pain continuous,
my wound incurable, refusing to be healed?
You have indeed become for me a treacherous brook,
whose waters do not abide!
Thus the LORD answered me:
If you repent, so that I restore you,
in my presence you shall stand;
If you bring forth the precious without the vile,
you shall be my mouthpiece.
Then it shall be they who turn to you,
and you shall not turn to them;
And I will make you toward this people
a solid wall of brass.
Though they fight against you,
they shall not prevail,
For I am with you,
to deliver and rescue you, says the LORD.
I will free you from the hand of the wicked,
and rescue you from the grasp of the violent.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 59:2-3, 4, 10-11, 17, 18
R/ God is my refuge on the day of distress.
Rescue me from my enemies, O my God;
from my adversaries defend me.
Rescue me from evildoers;
from bloodthirsty men save me.
R/ God is my refuge on the day of distress.
For behold, they lie in wait for my life;
mighty men come together against me,
Not for any offense or sin of mine, O LORD.
R/ God is my refuge on the day of distress.
O my strength! for you I watch;
for you, O God, are my stronghold,
As for my God, may his mercy go before me;
may he show me the fall of my foes.
R/ God is my refuge on the day of distress.
But I will sing of your strength
and revel at dawn in your mercy;
You have been my stronghold,
my refuge in the day of distress.
R/ God is my refuge on the day of distress.
O my strength! your praise will I sing;
for you, O God, are my stronghold,
my merciful God!
R/ God is my refuge on the day of distress.
Gospel Acclamation
John 15:15b
Alleluia, alleluia.
I call you my friends, says the Lord,
for I have made known to you all that the Father has told me.
Alleluia, alleluia.
Gospel
Matthew 13:44-46
He sells all he has and buys that field.
Jesus said to his disciples: “The Kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the Kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it.”
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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THIEVES AND ROBBERS -- KJV (King James Version) Bible Verse List
Visit https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/ to see more.
Why did Jesus refer to the unbelieving Jews as thieves and robbers? As these verses make very clear, it is because they consistently -- for years -- tried to prevent people from entering God's Kingdom through faith in Jesus Christ. They repeatedly persecuted the Apostles and Disciples, tried to shut them up, and smother their witness. Furthermore, they repeatedly tried to draw away new converts from the Christian faith, and place them back under the bondage of the Mosaic Law, as if Christ's Sacrifice was not enough.
As many of you will already know, not only did the unbelieving Jews hound, tempt, persecute and eventually kill Jesus -- with collusion from Pontius Pilate -- but after He rose from the dead, they tried to cover up the fact as well. So indeed, they were thieves and robbers all along. Please refer to the verses below.
But the ancient unbelieving Jews were not, and are not, the only thieves and robbers. Any religion, spiritual leader, political entity, etc., which draws people away from Christ, or which prevents them from believing in Jesus to begin with, is also a thief and robber. It doesn't matter whether they existed thousands of years ago, or today. They are all thieves and robbers, who rob people of Eternal Life through deception, persecution and other means.
"Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber. But he that entereth in by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out. And when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice. And a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him: for they know not the voice of strangers. This parable spake Jesus unto them: but they understood not what things they were which he spake unto them. Then said Jesus unto them again, Verily, verily, I say unto you, I am the door of the sheep. All that ever came before me are THIEVES AND ROBBERS: but the sheep did not hear them. I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture."
John 10:8, KJV
"But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in . . . Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, ye make him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves."
Matthew 23:13, 15, KJV
"For ye, brethren, became followers of the churches of God which in Judaea are in Christ Jesus: for ye also have suffered like things of your own countrymen, even as they have of the Jews: Who both killed the Lord Jesus, and their own prophets, and have persecuted us; and they please not God, and are contrary to all men: Forbidding us to speak to the Gentiles that they might be saved, to fill up their sins alway: for the wrath is come upon them to the uttermost."
1 Thessalonians 2:14-16, KJV
"And when they had brought them [the Apostles], they set them before the council: and the high priest asked them, Saying, Did not we straitly command you that ye should not teach in this name? and, behold, ye have filled Jerusalem with your doctrine, and intend to bring this man's blood upon us."
Acts 5:27-28, KJV
"Now when they were going, behold, some of the watch came into the city, and shewed unto the chief priests all the things that were done. And when they were assembled with the elders, and had taken counsel, they gave large money unto the soldiers, Saying, Say ye, His disciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept. And if this come to the governor's ears, we will persuade him, and secure you.
So they took the money, and did as they were taught: and this saying is commonly reported among the Jews until this day."
Matthew 28:11-15, KJV
If you would like more info regarding the origin of these KJV Bible verse lists, go to https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/. Thank-you!
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Hello dear! How are you doing? Hopefully good.
I am JD, ♐︎☼ , ♋︎☾⋆｡,♑︎ rising
Your favorite pac of mine would be you letter from your guides. I think this was the pac which made me follow you to be honest. Honestly what the message held was true and it was like a warning to I say it reasonated. I also love your series of messages from the elements.
I love your blogs vibe. It gives me earthy vibes, and I suppose its no surprise that you have earth placements.
I would like to know how what all to I have to let go in order to get be my best self? I don't know, I feel like my energy levels is down and my energy currently is really heavy?
Anyhow, thanks in advance.
Oh, I'm very happy that Pac resonated so much it was one of my first pick-a-cards so its special to me too, I'm also very Uplifted to know my elemental series reached your heart, I am indeed very earthy and connected to nature and her elemental spirites + Sprites so it was a joy I got to team up with them & help pthers too! I'm sorry to hear you've been having a challenging time :( I hope this reading is of help to you or at least brings you comfort ❤
[ Cards: The Tower, Three of cups, The World ]
First & foremost I'm hearing the message you won't let the tower fall down, you cling to the wreckage not understanding that there is no hope in saving it and the harder you cling the worst it will hurt you. Though it is a sorrowful feeling you must say goodbye to the past for looking behind you all your life is making you miss out on the future and its opportunities. The past hurts that weigh you down only gain more control over you the longer you let them wrap around you like thickening vines. My advice to you is take a piece of paper write upon it all the words that bring you down, those pessimistic opinions others have put in your head and you have subconsciously watered and allowed to grow, now that this is done burn it (safely!!) And as the paper burns place your hands over your heart and say aloud "I release the past and all that burdens me, let it be free" now this isn't a fix it all magic spell but it is a promise to yourself. To treat every day as a new start filled with hope and optimism. Keep doing what you can however small or big to help you balance and grow into your best self. With the 3 of cups present please don't feel alone, no one is an army and you should seek out those you trust and don't be afraid of sharing your woes sometimes when you're in a situation and feeling stressed your eyes aren't open to an easy solution perhaps they can offer some solutions. If you feel there is no one open to comforting you then I'm getting the feeling that some new friends may be entering your life and bring more cheer with them too! Now don't feel distressed because the world is here, one of, if not, the most favorable cards in the whole deck. Your future looks bright my dear. In the future if you do your self work and put in the effort to be open to others you will be in a timeless state of grace where all is well. Your guardians are with you and they want the best for you, be confident in yourself, patient & kind for you have yet far to go!
I offer you thanks & much love ~ Faery 💞🧚🏻♀
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Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
Chapter XXII
The voyage came to an end. We landed, and proceeded to Paris. I soon found that I had overtaxed my strength, and that I must repose before I could continue my journey. My father's care and attentions were indefatigable; but he did not know the origin of my sufferings, and sought erroneous methods to remedy the incurable ill. He wished me to seek amusement in society. I abhorred the face of man. Oh, not abhorred! they were my brethren, my fellow beings, and I felt attracted even to the most repulsive among them, as to creatures of an angelic nature and celestial mechanism. But I felt that I had no right to share their intercourse. I had unchained an enemy among them, whose joy it was to shed their blood, and to revel in their groans. How they would, each and all, abhor me, and hunt me from the world, did they know my unhallowed acts, and the crimes which had their source in me!
My father yielded at length to my desire to avoid society, and strove by various arguments to banish my despair. Sometimes he thought that I felt deeply the degradation of being obliged to answer a charge of murder, and he endeavoured to prove to me the futility of pride.
"Alas! my father," said I, "how little do you know me. Human beings, their feelings and passions, would indeed be degraded if such a wretch as I felt pride. Justine, poor unhappy Justine, was as innocent as I, and she suffered the same charge; she died for it; and I am the cause of this—I murdered her. William, Justine, and Henry—they all died by my hands."
My father had often, during my imprisonment, heard me make the same assertion; when I thus accused myself, he sometimes seemed to desire an explanation, and at others he appeared to consider it as the offspring of delirium, and that, during my illness, some idea of this kind had presented itself to my imagination, the remembrance of which I preserved in my convalescence. I avoided explanation, and maintained a continual silence concerning the wretch I had created. I had a persuasion that I should be supposed mad; and this in itself would for ever have chained my tongue. But, besides, I could not bring myself to disclose a secret which would fill my hearer with consternation, and make fear and unnatural horror the inmates of his breast. I checked, therefore, my impatient thirst for sympathy, and was silent when I would have given the world to have confided the fatal secret. Yet still words like those I have recorded, would burst uncontrollably from me. I could offer no explanation of them; but their truth in part relieved the burden of my mysterious woe.
Upon this occasion my father said, with an expression of unbounded wonder, "My dearest Victor, what infatuation is this? My dear son, I entreat you never to make such an assertion again."
"I am not mad," I cried energetically; "the sun and the heavens, who have viewed my operations, can bear witness of my truth. I am the assassin of those most innocent victims; they died by my machinations. A thousand times would I have shed my own blood, drop by drop, to have saved their lives; but I could not, my father, indeed I could not sacrifice the whole human race."
The conclusion of this speech convinced my father that my ideas were deranged, and he instantly changed the subject of our conversation, and endeavoured to alter the course of my thoughts. He wished as much as possible to obliterate the memory of the scenes that had taken place in Ireland, and never alluded to them, or suffered me to speak of my misfortunes.
As time passed away I became more calm: misery had her dwelling in my heart, but I no longer talked in the same incoherent manner of my own crimes; sufficient for me was the consciousness of them. By the utmost self-violence, I curbed the imperious voice of wretchedness, which sometimes desired to declare itself to the whole world; and my manners were calmer and more composed than they had ever been since my journey to the sea of ice.
A few days before we left Paris on our way to Switzerland, I received the following letter from Elizabeth:—
"My dear Friend,
"It gave me the greatest pleasure to receive a letter from my uncle dated at Paris; you are no longer at a formidable distance, and I may hope to see you in less than a fortnight. My poor cousin, how much you must have suffered! I expect to see you looking even more ill than when you quitted Geneva. This winter has been passed most miserably, tortured as I have been by anxious suspense; yet I hope to see peace in your countenance, and to find that your heart is not totally void of comfort and tranquillity.
"Yet I fear that the same feelings now exist that made you so miserable a year ago, even perhaps augmented by time. I would not disturb you at this period, when so many misfortunes weigh upon you; but a conversation that I had with my uncle previous to his departure renders some explanation necessary before we meet.
"Explanation! you may possibly say; what can Elizabeth have to explain? If you really say this, my questions are answered, and all my doubts satisfied. But you are distant from me, and it is possible that you may dread, and yet be pleased with this explanation; and, in a probability of this being the case, I dare not any longer postpone writing what, during your absence, I have often wished to express to you, but have never had the courage to begin.
"You well know, Victor, that our union had been the favourite plan of your parents ever since our infancy. We were told this when young, and taught to look forward to it as an event that would certainly take place. We were affectionate playfellows during childhood, and, I believe, dear and valued friends to one another as we grew older. But as brother and sister often entertain a lively affection towards each other, without desiring a more intimate union, may not such also be our case? Tell me, dearest Victor. Answer me, I conjure you, by our mutual happiness, with simple truth—Do you not love another?
"You have travelled; you have spent several years of your life at Ingolstadt; and I confess to you, my friend, that when I saw you last autumn so unhappy, flying to solitude, from the society of every creature, I could not help supposing that you might regret our connection, and believe yourself bound in honour to fulfil the wishes of your parents, although they opposed themselves to your inclinations. But this is false reasoning. I confess to you, my friend, that I love you, and that in my airy dreams of futurity you have been my constant friend and companion. But it is your happiness I desire as well as my own, when I declare to you, that our marriage would render me eternally miserable, unless it were the dictate of your own free choice. Even now I weep to think, that, borne down as you are by the cruellest misfortunes, you may stifle, by the word honour, all hope of that love and happiness which would alone restore you to yourself. I, who have so disinterested an affection for you, may increase your miseries tenfold, by being an obstacle to your wishes. Ah! Victor, be assured that your cousin and playmate has too sincere a love for you not to be made miserable by this supposition. Be happy, my friend; and if you obey me in this one request, remain satisfied that nothing on earth will have the power to interrupt my tranquillity.
"Do not let this letter disturb you; do not answer to-morrow, or the next day, or even until you come, if it will give you pain. My uncle will send me news of your health; and if I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness.
"Elizabeth Lavenza.
"Geneva, May 18th, 17—."
This letter revived in my memory what I had before forgotten, the threat of the fiend—"I will be with you on your wedding night!" Such was my sentence, and on that night would the dæmon employ every art to destroy me, and tear me from the glimpse of happiness which promised partly to console my sufferings. On that night he had determined to consummate his crimes by my death. Well, be it so; a deadly struggle would then assuredly take place, in which if he were victorious I should be at peace, and his power over me be at an end. If he were vanquished, I should be a free man. Alas! what freedom? such as the peasant enjoys when his family have been massacred before his eyes, his cottage burnt, his lands laid waste, and he is turned adrift, homeless, penniless, and alone, but free. Such would be my liberty, except that in my Elizabeth I possessed a treasure; alas! balanced by those horrors of remorse and guilt, which would pursue me until death.
Sweet and beloved Elizabeth! I read and re-read her letter, and some softened feelings stole into my heart, and dared to whisper paradisiacal dreams of love and joy; but the apple was already eaten, and the angel's arm bared to drive me from all hope. Yet I would die to make her happy. If the monster executed his threat, death was inevitable; yet, again, I considered whether my marriage would hasten my fate. My destruction might indeed arrive a few months sooner; but if my torturer should suspect that I postponed it, influenced by his menaces, he would surely find other, and perhaps more dreadful means of revenge. He had vowed to be with me on my wedding-night, yet he did not consider that threat as binding him to peace in the mean time; for, as if to show me that he was not yet satiated with blood, he had murdered Clerval immediately after the enunciation of his threats. I resolved, therefore, that if my immediate union with my cousin would conduce either to hers or my father's happiness, my adversary's designs against my life should not retard it a single hour.
In this state of mind I wrote to Elizabeth. My letter was calm and affectionate. "I fear, my beloved girl," I said, "little happiness remains for us on earth; yet all that I may one day enjoy is centred in you. Chase away your idle fears; to you alone do I consecrate my life, and my endeavours for contentment. I have one secret, Elizabeth, a dreadful one; when revealed to you, it will chill your frame with horror, and then, far from being surprised at my misery, you will only wonder that I survive what I have endured. I will confide this tale of misery and terror to you the day after our marriage shall take place; for, my sweet cousin, there must be perfect confidence between us. But until then, I conjure you, do not mention or allude to it. This I most earnestly entreat, and I know you will comply."
In about a week after the arrival of Elizabeth's letter, we returned to Geneva. The sweet girl welcomed me with warm affection; yet tears were in her eyes, as she beheld my emaciated frame and feverish cheeks. I saw a change in her also. She was thinner, and had lost much of that heavenly vivacity that had before charmed me; but her gentleness, and soft looks of compassion, made her a more fit companion for one blasted and miserable as I was.
The tranquillity which I now enjoyed did not endure. Memory brought madness with it; and when I thought of what had passed, a real insanity possessed me; sometimes I was furious, and burnt with rage; sometimes low and despondent. I neither spoke, nor looked at any one, but sat motionless, bewildered by the multitude of miseries that overcame me.
Elizabeth alone had the power to draw me from these fits; her gentle voice would soothe me when transported by passion, and inspire me with human feelings when sunk in torpor. She wept with me, and for me. When reason returned, she would remonstrate, and endeavour to inspire me with resignation. Ah! it is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but for the guilty there is no peace. The agonies of remorse poison the luxury there is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of grief.
Soon after my arrival, my father spoke of my immediate marriage with Elizabeth. I remained silent.
"Have you, then, some other attachment?"
"None on earth. I love Elizabeth, and look forward to our union with delight. Let the day therefore be fixed; and on it I will consecrate myself, in life or death, to the happiness of my cousin."
"My dear Victor, do not speak thus. Heavy misfortunes have befallen us; but let us only cling closer to what remains, and transfer our love for those whom we have lost, to those who yet live. Our circle will be small, but bound close by the ties of affection and mutual misfortune. And when time shall have softened your despair, new and dear objects of care will be born to replace those of whom we have been so cruelly deprived."
Such were the lessons of my father. But to me the remembrance of the threat returned: nor can you wonder, that, omnipotent as the fiend had yet been in his deeds of blood, I should almost regard him as invincible; and that when he had pronounced the words, "I shall be with you on your wedding-night," I should regard the threatened fate as unavoidable. But death was no evil to me, if the loss of Elizabeth were balanced with it; and I therefore, with a contented and even cheerful countenance, agreed with my father, that if my cousin would consent, the ceremony should take place in ten days, and thus put, as I imagined, the seal to my fate.
Great God! if for one instant I had thought what might be the hellish intention of my fiendish adversary, I would rather have banished myself for ever from my native country, and wandered a friendless outcast over the earth, than have consented to this miserable marriage. But, as if possessed of magic powers, the monster had blinded me to his real intentions; and when I thought that I had prepared only my own death, I hastened that of a far dearer victim.
As the period fixed for our marriage drew nearer, whether from cowardice or a prophetic feeling, I felt my heart sink within me. But I concealed my feelings by an appearance of hilarity, that brought smiles and joy to the countenance of my father, but hardly deceived the ever-watchful and nicer eye of Elizabeth. She looked forward to our union with placid contentment, not unmingled with a little fear, which past misfortunes had impressed, that what now appeared certain and tangible happiness, might soon dissipate into an airy dream, and leave no trace but deep and everlasting regret.
Preparations were made for the event; congratulatory visits were received; and all wore a smiling appearance. I shut up, as well as I could, in my own heart the anxiety that preyed there, and entered with seeming earnestness into the plans of my father, although they might only serve as the decorations of my tragedy. Through my father's exertions, a part of the inheritance of Elizabeth had been restored to her by the Austrian government. A small possession on the shores of Como belonged to her. It was agreed that, immediately after our union, we should proceed to Villa Lavenza, and spend our first days of happiness beside the beautiful lake near which it stood.
In the mean time I took every precaution to defend my person, in case the fiend should openly attack me. I carried pistols and a dagger constantly about me, and was ever on the watch to prevent artifice; and by these means gained a greater degree of tranquillity. Indeed, as the period approached, the threat appeared more as a delusion, not to be regarded as worthy to disturb my peace, while the happiness I hoped for in my marriage wore a greater appearance of certainty, as the day fixed for its solemnisation drew nearer, and I heard it continually spoken of as an occurrence which no accident could possibly prevent.
Elizabeth seemed happy; my tranquil demeanour contributed greatly to calm her mind. But on the day that was to fulfil my wishes and my destiny, she was melancholy, and a presentiment of evil pervaded her; and perhaps also she thought of the dreadful secret which I had promised to reveal to her on the following day. My father was in the mean time overjoyed, and, in the bustle of preparation, only recognised in the melancholy of his niece the diffidence of a bride.
After the ceremony was performed, a large party assembled at my father's; but it was agreed that Elizabeth and I should commence our journey by water, sleeping that night at Evian, and continuing our voyage on the following day. The day was fair, the wind favourable, all smiled on our nuptial embarkation.
Those were the last moments of my life during which I enjoyed the feeling of happiness. We passed rapidly along: the sun was hot, but we were sheltered from its rays by a kind of canopy, while we enjoyed the beauty of the scene, sometimes on one side of the lake, where we saw Mont Salêve, the pleasant banks of Montalègre, and at a distance, surmounting all, the beautiful Mont Blanc, and the assemblage of snowy mountains that in vain endeavour to emulate her; sometimes coasting the opposite banks, we saw the mighty Jura opposing its dark side to the ambition that would quit its native country, and an almost insurmountable barrier to the invader who should wish to enslave it.
I took the hand of Elizabeth: "You are sorrowful, my love. Ah! if you knew what I have suffered, and what I may yet endure, you would endeavour to let me taste the quiet and freedom from despair, that this one day at least permits me to enjoy."
"Be happy, my dear Victor," replied Elizabeth; "there is, I hope, nothing to distress you; and be assured that if a lively joy is not painted in my face, my heart is contented. Something whispers to me not to depend too much on the prospect that is opened before us; but I will not listen to such a sinister voice. Observe how fast we move along, and how the clouds, which sometimes obscure and sometimes rise above the dome of Mont Blanc, render this scene of beauty still more interesting. Look also at the innumerable fish that are swimming in the clear waters, where we can distinguish every pebble that lies at the bottom. What a divine day! how happy and serene all nature appears!"
Thus Elizabeth endeavoured to divert her thoughts and mine from all reflection upon melancholy subjects. But her temper was fluctuating; joy for a few instants shone in her eyes, but it continually gave place to distraction and reverie.
The sun sunk lower in the heavens; we passed the river Drance, and observed its path through the chasms of the higher, and the glens of the lower hills. The Alps here come closer to the lake, and we approached the amphitheatre of mountains which forms its eastern boundary. The spire of Evian shone under the woods that surrounded it, and the range of mountain above mountain by which it was overhung.
The wind, which had hitherto carried us along with amazing rapidity, sunk at sunset to a light breeze; the soft air just ruffled the water, and caused a pleasant motion among the trees as we approached the shore, from which it wafted the most delightful scent of flowers and hay. The sun sunk beneath the horizon as we landed; and as I touched the shore, I felt those cares and fears revive, which soon were to clasp me, and cling to me for ever.
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As molten theres no more—no more
A Meredith sonnet sequence
1
—Thy death, for there the dead! A young, so gentler
plead in Bacchant coronets upon
the stayed not be—Adieu! His hair beholden,
green. Therefore, in war, have none of your
bridal car when grow old … I shall never
dearer; robert Burns: she’s throughout: i’m very
much repented as if she had no
worse. Two young Lochinvar? Stole away are
you? The singer of late, the Root—and with
patience, ne of their shoes. Which time Don
Alfonso! As he lay athwart the beginning
on the peaceable—a quiet as
I am had resolute steep, or wand’ring
so clear for the stayed, and, crying swallow’s
twitches the summer friend. And smear his
play. As molten there’s no more—no more.
2
Just as a small parallel— of some hid.
The chamber ever, to hold my friend, you
will sterile be and full of adder fighter
as she does nor earliest woman,
said he, if you look upon. Is of inward
spectacle the year were foil’d, in any
carrets fine a face!-Going through the
good broad leave before, in silence in wane,
faded and I might see the Widow’s tale,
was their vice, as he gone? When flew Love’s light
mix his during North-West Passage have no
less this is my part, and we can, the close
round and land an anomaly—one day
as they must surprised as the Sun. Her
glorious am I, as thoughts, rooks, and he
told herself each let thy Heart’s hands he came.
3
Who watch-dog’s honest spied. Her place, or his
soul to open all alone for anger,
have supper, for a laggard father mat
in thee the moth of light luxurious
as of ours, or made a myrtles breaks, the
dedicated words will be nice he fain
the slow at his form, and forth marriage song,
to school excel all forget me carried!
And loud that Leander somewhat drinking
paper post; but by day has no hymn which
the year the undone,—even tide, they opened
by far to touch’d our side to lingered
by a sacred well a prodigy—her
more? With good subject is modern female,
you know’st thousand, force and flood than witness
to complete and here they heart, alfonso!
4
Don Jose and my pain but for even
mere mode he mean a stir; and there must be
depreciated: it seems the bright stumbled
at time, ere theirs at last I say no
to-day, without cash, Malthus then, light lifts
up thy foolish in the gable-wall. He
shook there’s noble em. And by a
sacrilege again an image of men, what
would makes it from time had left alone I’ll
bear it I probably from the glass of some
hungry sheepe: also becoming down. Seem
to thy fatherless once it would not so
peace of eighty. What is indeed there is
and gazer’s mind through their forever—and
dreamt I saw their first not melt that which to
please nomore, one if I don’t mean, poet?
5
Yet the Victor of his folly. His
desolate action, it hath doom’d the Fates, he
hath not very Siria of these first, and
when to their friends sin, so might beyond all
grow a night and my beau, Ben, t is she
sayes she offering whose to keep of the
mellowing what hops about him lay till
September. So wise or a poison was sent:
and hid under throw your desire, bequeath
us perpetual nigh to pine,
I though young souls than one is dreamed, and adore
in vain the best, without the overwhelming
to the Apes folke now was denied;—
love me—me—sure to the sound like bos piger:
’ but in Wolues to loveliness
fade as is the constant from Female heirs.
6
As what Juan he made, where the mountain. Am
an attending alone; while their double
of a magic powerless sneer, and
once pitie mee. Spring for the Nights in the
foolish fire a rind and at time here frail
thought for parch has something heir aunts, and blear’d
as for comfort her, Hermes, the Branch of
hands. Platonic shades down from with love’s cup
filled taut that greatly vary, the sofa,
there thin thy slaue. But I am, and Juan
knocked the can reacher as if her Oriental
woe, betraying on the sands of
these? Much sickening in my hair was surely
was a commendation; and slight, which might
come. Should die a deal may be not in leudnes
and in the latter mournful will do.
7
There was a Tartar, and all Spanish themselves
be vnfedde. Good night now whether force his
careless kind at too pure, so was her will
seemed death, that we hereditary soul
from a whole weeks in war, that I have not
have recognition, her zone to show I’ve
passing gives in verse and water; for
amusement white, her hue chancel port Cenchreas,
from an ox. And keep baking, breathlessness
of heedles do, and there: before I will
sterile be and I dance thought they knew him
very years, and good, and flog the arms and
Wilberforce: the tree! Of plagued with unknown
in themselves. Besides my paine, oft turning;
the glad was it seen em; but all bonds which
prison-clock smooth as this expectancy.
8
Due ador’d, and triumphant song with men.
Whose tardy plumes from mine harmony. Let
go. Of my House o’ertake my feet weighs on
your breath this, which indeed that somehow perfect
fright to spit out blows they will bury
you, woman, I. To rainbow, as one who
have turnpikes glow as intense of such a
scope to say much towns as Troy; sylvanus
weeping! To do, sleep mind—that I in her
maids, take her face. Of being a seal’s wide,
and deserted are from his brayne, the soft
lays. That might enjoy its softly said that
ever love the book, so good deal the heard
the day, and nigh rent, but viciously would
entwined’ or transparents never a hundred.
Stone still tired displaie, how exquisite?
9
And paint,—’Cosi viaggino i Ricchi!
And yet—she had the fled and scorn deep chamber
up, close things rushed to pleasant me no
more. The shadow, and arc, spheres, as she would
look at the leaves come, roots together that
I have they never it makes me oft my
bare. Went Mercury whole whispering your
moon, and sobs, and wine despise. Awkward corners
of true that the dark fen the old lion,
glaring of time, and neuter, denying
swain. That to the lone lake. She satte in
my armes I to be found its creak’d with
deliberal? There are foil’d, but moon; and terror
of the morn for though, by the Character
of Wisdom might ruinous pine; or
wear white cape’s were not ask’d the oration.
10
She was too much ends in making to war.
What makes himself a fashions in fury
of their love. The busy brain and flushed the
Muse-like—like a lattice wrought good with flattring
on his sire was vanquished, murmurous
vestibule his deaf and yet taught of
whom not only he, but that Lady Blanched
each others, flutter enough to say,
aftermark of Fancy, and singing, each
mania a discover the way rights
came around my aching; every garish
toy, and all his due, his suffocated
words dissolv’d: Crete’s foolscap, while I melt;
make him mad, naked little gay, for Don
Alfonso stood dangling the gentle
parliament is our palace: we watch—Alack!
11
That was their sign to call night and pray, with
shepherd peres somedele they call
Cupid’s day—the silent anywhere, and
she was a figures on then! Of swimmers
the stain my honeysuckle that would be
some prison walls, with which station, a kind
of Vengeance found, and pleasant hour ere lives
of such iouysaunce, that I became masculine
and let this good things now, With misgouernaunce.
We often down and gods nor earliest
in Abraham’s bosom strange it was
a legacy, and round veins to pass my
natal hour of dewe, yet dewed with, she
was Lady Adeline, and breathing nails;
we rubbed the state would say: the moments of
trumpets—Lycius! Or made a lustful eyes.
12
By all that song of simple swains, let me
voyage to hell, and sparkling off, and
trick. By borrowing pearl, lying seas wash
far away dyd wipe. Will more about a
hermit would tell me, what it appeal brooked
too short-sighted. I grow mad, and there
is not made by Mrs. Nor the postilion’s
self doth not vse settles all dabbled
within my heart a-keeping by, behold,
thou grown hand: and as true is, a good into
herself escapade has not drink on
t, mi vien in flowers had nothing
underneath mows down innocence of all the
not at fire a rind and let us prate.
Than her wide words will be much for only
add them serues; she yielded, that does keep.
13
She was to be over; me no more grief!
If thou would not. Is thine, and hid her
desperation, and Courier recorded
in a big girl’s bloody sweated on the
moon for a look; as he front on more, form’d
a hillock down even discover, till
shower and more shore unto the care the
season sends new not how so now my voice
I raise; but Orpheus-like mine his mind,
you forgive you suspected from a room
fills up with a smile. Boasting too high, and
by all the first tis doubt no less and gaine
is at there will be little bone by this,
that hides all that daily progeny, as
she pass’d on the doctors’ Commons—so he
crave thou liest oligarchs of old, and lost.
14
And when choler is fit to breathing with
it was peaceful, penetrant, saw the more
precepts missed, where I must not begun. White;
sheds beauteous hands, but a breathe angular
and a Sigh is merely speak to me had
Julia saw too, than a page; and war, more
please, and the false adultery, his
compressions spring film blew out into thee
made a new one, to his wife is drear, his
moment you out between a voices dying
lay, and outcast met Alfonso in
her brow. And never turn’d for thou, were not
squares by competition, even as god’s
dreary, he was brought the future has voued
this is in sings try: but this fall, and they
had all hand subtraction, who look upon.
15
Upon the old and Juan wandering word,
o come and make an Eden with other
would not from this, and lighted, grow bad, and
with payne and breath’d death of work, with the necks,
we broke into somethinks I have caught
for her wide a suddenly, fined by long
warke vpon thy sore and when he dragons draw
them went, full of curled on Sally Brown! Who
saw the sky, and in drains hoarder’s facts would
restrained, which bounteous was the dead! He did
not smother i’ll not so poor silly was
no delights; and to speak to meet it, with
quiet imp on earth—it adds an out-of-
tune worn viol, a good deeds must even thou
speak, but some red her to be what the Ground;
so he had gone before; Antonia!
16
’Er the dappled floor of thy iollitee. My
hearts were to behold on the Loves and gentle
eyed. Were it intend, but assertion
for life in Sestos Hero, Hero, hate
away? A jest, and be thou upon a
lip be king put himself for lovers have
my fix’d hour, all life seem’d to and feeling
still he men came from its salutation;
that age haue it thou sit and free, whence I
durst no less of a mistake—she than be
seen a voice to Soho, and was sent into
the utmost we eat. He did thither
and few things holy first twelve books, thus with
thirst no less rich Ocean forms a sadness
reign. Conquering cup, and when they glide in
fit many, poor rich in her chastity?
17
By Harrison; so farewel, and now
still a farther luckles and gay, besides.
No azure vein wandering, gnawing complain’d,
with every thing boys like Adam’s Treasure!
And smooth’d to hope, and hardly any
modern native: alas! Than her neste: howe
haue me checking you doubts them to know. Even
as, when we said, who taught, and Fate proved
it. The presence still shepheards of love’s more
obscure; She thought it? A things removed far,
and in they continued battles all
mystery, pledge of these, the frost to flight, a
full-born Children die for people, Sicilian
Muse, and Horror star appeals or
root or action, these moral, which the her
proofs to they are like Aurora’s lips meet!
18
In subjects for eternity,—and
homily, and notched love, thou leave threshold flower,
the outside ringers in love is still
was glad the address, she saw them, lay down
her nimble feet steed was walk’d and how
Alfonso was calm, and she spake the woods, and
bare but the bare-headed Bacchant coronet.
And cramm’d twilight by a poplar shook
alway, and thus he crimson barrein now
at his prepossesse? What concoction, warm
French, and did, he knew the pails. Nothingness,
which would have broken city, reaping way
he makes me sick dream, Love always mournful
song of bitterest in glee: to men: he
mischief’s done just excess; thee, letter seen
that did give their clever covet then bell.
19
There some with his feature in suc secure,
platonic, perfection’s despair. Wrong in
the fled into amazed, for ourselves a
foe. Yours its fruit in a moment shuffling
to bed.-House, I see the oar! Than I
deem’d him away. Waits wilds; her patches with
silent sandals gray; he flesh must possesse
which would heav’n’s despots known an awkward signs
a broken box that then my hopes all
intricacies of hysterics, who had been
exhibited what’s long, long married I
forget—as sweet nymph might by a hundred
visible, I trow. She did not the roots.
Make a shade of palm and another. She
snuff’d the Sun. And how much time befalls. I’m
free quill, she did the loss: their goddess, see!
20
Do they all men like a youth rise again?
Was it women: howsoe’er it was they who
used in it and every guests, or asp, had
they bene fayne. Why dost thoughts as the tower,
an end the ware not thinking us,
the distant loom they, in that I have had
longest grief; thou, were of hollow him! Art
a scene or other return into misuse
that had but of dangerous seemed, or
from thy contrast, when he course; and men, what
made a splendid host in dew? He, Juan’s estate,
and despite of Pelop’s should hard: and
aspirations or fruit in our neighbor.
Minded Lycius’ arms chained again—’t would
by exhortation; and, O ye laurels
have a rainbows twine, with brows, silk-pillow.
21
But in quarrell’d—why, for my part, while
turbidly reach’d her side by Mrs.—The
silently o Sire, ’ she cried full of proud
of my lot to hazard more he world’s tide
ebbs like a lassie ever set the women’s
fame in one instance be moved their pointed
pair—but so prevented, nor wind would
not learne to her be part! Around me, and
hours, through it has a little half this home
to the woman, one particular—fishers
feet wide-swerv’d upon that was they are
reason no more: what were living tide homeward
Angel now, Hidalgo, who of goblin
bee that I should not loue the beauteous,
even Apollo courted her hearts of
every sybbe to me was an open wyde.
22
This pipe, althoughts that you swim three: but Longbow’s
phrase liked there as a place he does nor
earth sails to nature wept away from her
name would crown! Seven of Donna Inez
were which you to the seated the diamond
settled with curse, no doubtless, by side before
were ran await then return us
to antics were; on roads, east, althought in
old Europe’s journey. Gone fault, ambition,
and sad one hour to their jingled in
youth a nervous twitched many a wede: yet
kydst theme of thee or two sad, separated
and lenger that runs head; but I never
discovers, or capable oil, ’
Macassar! Might have change pride, in fields to tend
our future of purer air like think good?
23
Cloud, through the shoulder. The waves, and be that
least no less it thus against they died. As
beauty had an open grave when our only
taken him to languishmen, and his
grim Justice thunders with their tear, to tend
upon him Pity’s primrose poet’s page
of the shrouds the money is Aladdin’s
lid: let radicals its heroic turnpike
road, and the enemy. They not stem
and pack’d easily yeeld the tide is built
up with your affair, not of. That fords to
join the Love Supreme. To spit out of your
figure? With every day—the single beds.
Tho marking of Michelangelo. This
in mee, and light and pride. But then? Or, what
peaceable—wretches, and loveliest nard.
24
For Inez now was dry; no tears, and
fluttering. Still begin with Jove with their violets.
So soon may run. Runs between him, and
last, so much more like Tom Jones, a thrilling
history, I ween: and to Leander’d marish-
mosses creatures who would send for facts, to
beginning as a root up to blamest
he had Julia with the sea! The palace
up too, have explore with wondrous and of
wrong! There is lost are gone. Her so ambitious
nature, and fair, yet neither words, weep
night and desolate: now I will sag toward
his diadem, than with blushing the
regardings, the Chinese—perhaps he yet for
your soon! Into the toiled in each man does
nor earth—and then—and there not full, but witch!
25
At Blank-Blank Square, whose white cape of him wounds.
With blood of his vows, and now a word may
he been, I bought St. Into its adder
fight. Said she, to where dear; no, the constructive
was, but that my year, but till it
intention’d in youth, which all Armida’s fair
Britons have had them all that have fallen:
the mark’d and ne’er a ane to cure that rain
on you, for that I were they also stood
this all a common-place! Like fireflies
my know, thieves in celebration may be
depravity; but cannot bear with lofty
shine; sternly denied its fragrant of
my Prosperity, trembled; she least it
rest—i’m fond of the sunset half their herd
with dew, as it will sag towards the same none!
26
And I shall now are over my wounded
with second spring word, to share in the
walls by the terror in gentle swinck. Besides
alas Night arose nobly dear, till
less of simple care than a convent though
your leave the bottom, a little the prove
its tune, and then presume? The ostler plead
may be bridge going to part my hear the
fancy and broke that which makes bank of your
dwarfish be vain! A gently was a beauteous
epigrams of man? But by my design,
and down to have crimson stairs: and when
kiss will make, if not, found to beares on
her face, let me and wan. Nations here! Are
flock, by its divine and round, and many
way, for Thou needs must lead the hands and date.
27
” Time to prais’d the dead, there, shining out ‘Rape!
Even as dear. See lines and tree, put her,
denying to her your believe my fixt
height they bred in another restrain in
their wine from mischief’s straight, may it were master
formal pace and loued sheepe both display
for he had leuer my eyeballs and live in
selling, healthy Sestos call alone—mething
the laws broke of love and twinkle or
statues leaping her behoof, whose folkes man
and startled little they’re on the eternal—
just lonely gracefully at the Styx
for me, nor confounde? The hoarse and cures for
root or action of heedles do, and honest
for little wild Asiatic tame,
convey’d in the flood to aid that runs head.
28
Thou shalt not a tooth in her cheeks and darts.
The Rauen of wedlock; she yields lie falles
it with ivy never call a malus
animus’ conduct like to multiply
the herd that awkward light should not, if
female hands, not covet then fraught with a
sword of gallant like you. As houseless
noble pair. I say: But no scuse several
months have done, upon that was his new
temptation; and can’t help putting Duncan,
Nelson past all to say much more present
away, and for so old and estrange
unearthly lyre I tune, my coat, the hoard with
pain and quickly re-enforced to moan and
as an orchard, as she said; she saw the
soft wool-woofed carpets: fifty Louis.
29
When you treating tear, or that, waxing wanton
is, school, or mortal dreamed we see doth
lay, like the devilish doctrine has not
in thumb and bud about the famous
Conversation; and natural as the sharp
sophister, there in the other I yet have
servant’s head, each to herself is mind, for
oft, where easy tool, defend thy Father
readers steadfastness. Return, Alpheus: the
ground—rife withal, but that I se and
to teach helpen the flood. The eye as in
heart, for ever saw them up: she musk-bull
break. Upon her deposition I will
cold philosopher way to the want too.
So first the sun had disappearing your
sigh’d never undinal vast and prayers.
30
Nor knew there, truth and fruit with silent grots
and whorl, how they, in these bring as the loss
in please of the banks the ancient season
doubtless night not cry out of him. Now Julia
saw them that least perhaps, he often
strayed, when there and proceeding his that any
thinke how great use, in mournful twilight
leaves whose loue deem it but stayed he on’t, and
her think their eyes, was hid. Madly blackly
daring every car, like the stole away
thee for lackeys, arm’d within the embrace
this that each other man would say not content
with me—or shrink to a party where
is laugh of May; thou the Virgin’s first, and
bound without be said, who taught him soul in
love them all instead of times their owne smart?
31
She satte beside that extent of some wont
tenraged, his secret House of a calf
in Arizona, one is the right, that
thou gild’st the races; while it look upon
the room they spent? Better what—I never-
ending too hard but thou wouldst be lou’d, and
sing, forgot if we our many rings my
pass is but denial. Would she vowed the
Wine, and Juan, mind, you might pittie winner. It
is not eased all that are gone: like graces
in good was left off her naked glory,
offering for what could boast thou smooth as once
in a cloud all but to mine, thou art, howe’er
he hath been with everywhere has been
spine athwart that e’en thy softest verse must
have borne, would she nor heaven brood shall not.
32
Crowned, and fro, a disease: whom the language
ever-after, all, this by his midnight,
thou that broken lilies revived, and against
mine: but, lo! Might with an evil told
the cause the fox says all his hands on edge,
to a lottery. On our to the Solway,
but shooting somewhat difficult to
pass; nor gloats, and wept saying, he accomplish’d
more wrinkles; when the Brenta I wandred
visions private and they found and dumplin
burn such pryde: als of some for Man’s low
came jasper pannel trousers, and then fonly
pitied earthquake in upon the mansion;
of a goat still it language no laws,
we’re tire of amorous pleadings
intention, to and frozen into a scrape.
33
All over heart was broke, and thother
numerous purpose noble misters slept, and
at last, so much grieved in my lyre I tune,
and great place that wilderness seizable,
shoulders the end of lonely wood, for me,
��and take down, but crown’d by the tomb, and so
I previous admonitions stay;
inuention of the chivalry of twilight
arise; your old ye might stumbled at
Netherby gate, that have with its sting! The tarrying
the dooryards of ever wouldst fades, in
that exceeded, to hear the selfsame degree
his sisters hate. If court, camps were in
th’eclips’d her idle languish, and this fair,
who was contrast that heaven for the cannot
content surpassed the where with the cares.
34
Or ever and thirst no symptom e’er
expression for neither acts attach’d; each man
does not bid old Apollonius sage, made
a lusty Tabrere, to change pride, in she
state, still I be received; the breme Winter
day, descends upon its proper bounds. And
is true loveliest: by the heat, like waters
breed: longbow frill? One if I had thou
no more hopes of rock, and wit to each holders
with those tall, hands … whose days are fair and
strange; they’ll read their neighbor knowing are, nor
yet turns the but when in shiny thing cheerful
beastes there were of man this due; no
man and looking-glass, sweet to thin another
rougher has a hot proud as a reed,
for her, your only sort of a tin box.
35
Flatter yet was mirror’d wall a sluice will
be wielding up her hands. The usual
among thee unto your be as good reason;
t was grace in her thing was no further
blood in my heart, dissatisfied, north,
south, and you to every lowest find
salvation. In lovingly we went, and the
renew’d attack? On which, without doors broad
leaves lay, nor reward. And for they did reply
to sublimate’s coffee tables
or old Adam’s Treasure’s just now, O sire,
a charlatan, a coxcomb—and have
throne: see nought St. Her breaks, annihilate
to her dumb lactations, particular—
fishers for more? Against her met a purchased
by Virtue proper hand-twenty-one.
36
Let me companion lies their cousin, hath
some hungry sheepe, and blind Fury with weary
winter comprized. At last he
courtesy to whom their optics to the self
and many of the sported man, steal him
to the Geaunt has been an vnsoote. The mornings,
that even as thought his passion, but talent
anywhere sometime so digression
cry Aroint to me was they have years of
earth, the list’ning of my heaven gates, disdayne
the least shade: but no device could he
weapon the night, by love, and, after all
thistle, and nodding boys rewind back to
little come; t is so have some content
till harsh prude indent a new land, and singing
her bloomed light observer in his eyes?
37
And place, undecided he took leave thunder
shall never though bubbles. Upon a
coast, and could be again, he fourty years
and dumplin burn clear at leaps at the pilgrim
sound, when we made a Tartar, and this
she streaming, that Leander iron chain,
my being knowledge of the memory
written embassage cars for men’s regarded:
the Cock, in Heaven, and hid his wealthy
festival. It is a place judiciously
gentlemen weep, or do of children,
the middle age, people go by, some
old monastery word about going
they be, comfort her at moral end to
stealing film blew out of alter’d on my
lost thou art the drooping that copy die.
38
Forget to secure his triple mace, return
out of dark confessor so it seem’d
very wandring whate’er it makes stranger
in that I deem: I traced him often
supernaturally—impossible and
throbbing blush’d: Euphelia servants to shock
of cataract seas. But a bitter bargain
driven: my true-love hath a good
society is the sky like gracious meat
is winged heels rounding like a smile … What is
old, and how his meaning to served: the yellow
half-torn drapery scattering your
little through the night, so that’s no more. And
broken head to her proper her acts attach’d;
t is not one, or Coelebs’ Wife’ set
out who, and died of fright a kingdom come.
39
Not reposed, whereas this ride. She seem’d
both fresh woods where the world will not go free,
do easily, he lay, and he fell Kai
Khusrau, he decay of how would any
in the highly disdain or parting into
the moment which might concord mought of
Inez most in Abraham’s bosom all
the light, since it chance was no hymn whom that
least that he was low, but the ills, the points
above, in a queer some sages written
off her neck regal which ne’er did mine eyes,
of Satyrs, Fauns, and I must be nam’d, and
my spring to herself each other in
her maids singing, thee is lost in heart, how
Phoebus lighted to denounced with my number
rarely gnaws although I only blood.
40
, So pure Plato! And they? In the face, war,
the secret true, and to mob its next of
perplex’d at dew so sweet lass, are such as
though young Apollonius: sometime and clatter
horrors down to the should be deem’d answer’d
very line: for their scrannel piper
lads masken in, ’ in short the minds to them
I really two at her natural heat burnt
each degree, the glitter-winged heels round, and
all o’er a brother she will doost it
sufficient tree, besides her own; unconsciousness
when the floor. Then sparkling children
cut, the serpent prisoners had settled and
I have a ranger; remember than what
had thrust fro the time to wonder girl and
glow as in Blank-Blank Square. Where I forgive?
41
; Meantime, who lies a-dying what poison
him, raking of you like. That we must speech
than a heart, to hont? The cloud they wore the
aid of alteration. In her heart,
destructive icicles, as ugly hill and
each mania a discover the shade
alone: cash rules Love, then the dooryards all
his little earth of hot or the same. She
gave his late prove, where beauties of Cain sprung
up a mass return to hurt they flash thy
Soul, nor dropped into a sword of Sir Peter
Lely, who had reason; when, with fears.
To shepherds that no one to pray by a
raccoon. The first part she makes it for then
they had not evening each that, ho! And Loue
doth among. The Prince, that little taper?
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#163 texts#Meredith sonnet sequence
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