#reigning 2 time worlds strongest man
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So who wins this tug-of-war?
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i love n but looking at his final team in bw again it is. so bad. peace and love <3 but also i think it’s such a great detail
like it makes perfect sense in the story that the guy who doesn’t even like being a trainer, whose whole goal is to put an end to pokémon battling, would be bad at battling. cuz it’s not like he has a lot of experience with it. yeah he didn’t build a competitive team he’s just doing this with his friends kinda like penny. the previous times you fight him he uses only the random pokémon he finds around him like he’s just summoning the nearby forces of nature for aid like a disney prince or something. in the end he’s got a random medley of mons and the only logical explanation is those are the ones he’s had around for a long time and was always going to stick with
like so what if 2/3 of his final team are weak to fighting, 1/2 are weak to steel, 1/2 are weak to ground, etc. it’s whatever. those are the friends he happens to have and he’s loyal to them. so what if their abilities are either useless with how he uses them (illusion, plus) or an active hindrance (defeatist). so what if he doesn’t even have a dragon type move on zekrom/reshiram they can use either whatever they want to use idk man. no held items? no problem. he’s not about that artificial sweetener microplastic man-made item life they are living like nature
basically like he isn’t gonna judge them for who they are or what they wanna do. they’re his allies not his tools he’s not going to betray his ideals even for the sake of having a better shot at winning. it’s his friends or nothing
like. n is the guy who looks at the small picture of things over the big picture. he was never going to be able to beat the player and become the true reigning champion and hero of unova who has the authority to shut down trainerdom forever without approaching that battle with a strategic mindset and/or boxing his friends. he sacrifices his larger goal because he would never want to be the hypocrite who treats his own pokémon like tools while preaching that other people shouldn’t
(makes him like the exact opposite of ghetsis who’s strong yet evil while preaching goodness. who in fact directly benefits from abusing his pokémon (max frustration hydreigon, enough said))
and in turn like… he definitely knew this. he talks a big game but there’s no way that in his heart he didn’t already understand that he was gonna lose to the player. like @claitea once pointed out in this post the archeops with the defeatist ability for example is kind of symbolic here. n is a smart guy he must’ve figured out like halfway through the game that he wasn’t strong enough, that it just wasn’t meant to be for him, that ghetsis didn’t really see him as capable or worthy of respect, something like that. and his ideals were wavering anyway after having seen the truth about trainers and their pokémon out in the world. in his heart he had already half given up but was too stubborn to admit it, much like anthea says
the other way to interpret this of course is that since ghetsis has been introducing n to all these pokémon that have been abused (perhaps even abused *because* they were weak) in order to manipulate his heart, n has been taking care of these guys in particular and therefore has been closely bonding with them as the friends he wants to battle with. you could say ghetsis also has an incentive to ensure that n’s team isn’t strong enough to defeat his own in case n decided to revolt, thus he wanted to introduce him to a bunch of super weak pokémon. and again like @claitea says it’s odd that n would have a fossilmon like why would he have a fossil or go somewhere to revive it. decent chance he got that from ghetsis
but also like ghetsis did want n to be the strongest trainer in the region so he probably was hoping n would still do better than that. it could just be that ghetsis’ plan therefore backfired terribly bc oops you taught your son to love and defend all the weakest and least loved pokémon regardless of what they could provide for people and then they failed to provide for him. go figure
so either ghetsis apparently thought n’s team was good enough for him to give his son the green light to go ahead like that (which like. he was almost right except the player is built different) or he secretly really was banking on n losing. so that he had an excuse to toss him out like trash at the last second because that was his plan anyway
tldr feel free to disagree with any of these points or interpretations etc but like i LOVE it when they prioritize subtle storytelling and characterization over objective quality when building characters’ teams
#this has been in my drafts for a month lol#pokémon#bw#pokemon black and white#natural harmonia gropius#n harmonia#pokemon#pokémon black and white
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hellooo🫶
i love the way you detail each character it’s so realistic! would it be possible to request a zoro headcannon and how they would be in a relationship??
thank you🥰
-🌼🌼
Sorry for the long ass time it took to do this, my computer screen stopped working and I sure as hell am not using my school computer to write fanfic😭😭😭 anyway hope you enjoy!!
(SFW) Zoro Relationship Headcannons
- So Zoro is not a cold man, he loves his nakama and his partner is no exception.
- He can be a little oblivious at times especially outside of battle but honestly if his partner is part of the crew he’d probably just ask them to spar when trying to figure out what’s wrong (the man is terrible at words but give him the slightest taste of a physical fight he’ll have unlocked the secrets of the world).
- Could never say a bad thing about his partner ever, this man is absolutely whipped
- there are only three things that could keep him from his partner 1. His captain, Luffy’s orders come first no matter what and everyone on the crew knows and trusts him with that 2. His dream, Zoro will fight god for the people important to him ESPECIALLY his partner but if something were to interfere with him achieving his dream then he won’t be able to stay 3. Kuina’s sword, this is Zoro’s most valuable possession. Sure he loves and takes very good care of all of his swords but that one is special, this one is honestly a tossup depending on how long he’s been with the straw hats or with his partner. If it’s early on he’d forsake everything to save/find that sword but if it’s post time skip I think he’d go to save his crew first then find her sword later, it’s non-negotiable though he WILL find it and won’t stop until he does.
- on the topic of number 2 though he is adamant on the fact that he won’t die for his partner but he routinely throws himself in the way to protect both them and his nakama (he takes the hit because he doesn’t want them getting hurt and he “won’t die until he becomes the strongest so nothing can kill me” if push came to shove though he’d chance a fatal wound for his partner any day but this goes for his nakama too
- honestly there’s not a whole lot different with how he treats his partner from his nakama, you’re all important to him so he doesn’t really see a reason to do anything different
- however, his partner does get special privileges, free reign to touch him whenever they want, naps with him, hold his swords, kisses
- unfortunately for Zoro his partner probably takes advantage of those privileges, especially the first one and when I tell you this man gets SO red it looks like he got sunburn
- embarrassing him is so easy it’s unreal especially in the beginning, one little kiss on the cheek and his blush is as red as Shanks’s hair but he mellows out as the relationship goes on
- casual kisses and intimacy are frequent once he’s comfortable, he’s just so soft for his partner and how could he deny them the affection he so freely wishes to give.
- not a huge fan of pda but what are you gonna do out at sea on a ship full of people (the sunny is big but is there really anywhere that’s actually private for any long period of time?) he stops minding it around the crew but he hopes and prays his partner doesn’t pull anything on an island or when they’re hanging out with another crew.
This is probably part one of this, zoro is popular and this isn’t nearly the amount of ideas I have about this man I’m just hella tired and nearly about to pass out writing this. Anyway enjoy!! And thank you for the request feel free to do so again. I’m gonna work on getting a masterlist and a list of characters I’ll write for together if I can figure it out on my phone
#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#zoro#zoro x you#op zoro#zoro headcanons#one piece#one piece x reader
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I WILL STAY WITH YOU
KingCaspian X Pevensie!Reader
Summary: To which Y/n decides to stay in Narnia the second time and ends up meeting up with her brothers in the Dawn Treader.
Words: 1.5K+
Warnings: Mention of battle, golden age characters, marriage, mentions of pregnancy.
Author: Always saying that English is not my first language, I ask for forgiveness for any mistakes that may be made in writing. Just let me know, here Y/n has her romantic home which is Caspian, but I will portray more of the sibling relationship she has with Edmund and Lucy. (I'll write part 2 and 3, I'll let you know)
MASTERLIST
Y/n Pevensie was a sweet, kind, cheerful and very understanding girl. He thought about himself and others, he cared about any detail that could be bothering his brothers, especially the two youngest.
She was the oldest of the five, Y/n was three years older than Peter and in her mind, she was responsible for her siblings when their parents weren't present. Of course, Peter always helped him with his younger brothers, they were very close.
And when they went to Narnia for the first time, the responsibility on Y/n grew even more. Well, you see, Edmund was being attracted by the White Witch, no one initially believed Lucy when she said she found a new world in the house's wardrobe and the fact that they were in a totally magical place with magical creatures didn't help either.
However, after the war ended, the five Pevensies became kings and queens of Narnia.
Queen Y/n, the warrior.
King Peter the Magnificent.
Queen Susan, the gentle.
King Edmund the Just
And Queen Lucy, the fearless.
Oh, it was a beautiful 15 years of reign for the five brothers, until one day it all ended in the blink of an eye.
It was a while before everything went back to normal and they adapted to the routine in England again.
Until the second call to Narnia happened.
Ah, that calling.
Everything changed for Y/n, this time she went to Narnia. The queen had met Prince Caspian, a gentlemanly, respectful, loving, kind and sweet man. Everything Y/n looked for in someone.
After the Beruna war took place, the Pevensie brothers spent a few weeks at the castle with the Prince until Peter decided it was time to return to England. Of course, in the meantime Caspian and Y/n's relationship grew, developed and matured. Even though they are young and 17/18 years old.
After much conversation and explanation from Aslan, Y/n decided that she would not return to England again. She felt that Narnia was truly her place and that her destiny was set there. In magical lands and with Caspian by your side.
The brothers' farewell to Y/n was very strong, no one knew if they would see their older sister again.
Hugs, confessions and endearing words were exchanged between them as Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy returned to London.
Now, 3 years after the brothers returned. Y/n was more than happy where she belonged.
She and Caspian had been married a year ago and things in Narnia were going from good to better. Peace reigned in the Narnian lands and there was nothing Y/n wanted more.
Obviously, she missed her brothers and asked Aslan so that at least once, she could see them.
And he answered!!
Y/n, Caspian and some of Narnia's strongest soldiers had left for a journey with the Dawn Treader. Caspian didn't really know what was right about this trip, but he knew he needed to do it.
The day had been dawning for a few hours, the sun was hot but the autumn wind made the sailors' bodies shiver.
Y/n was in the office below deck. She was organizing some papers she brought from Narnia so that as soon as she returned, she could tackle the next project.
A knock on the door is heard by the queen.
"Come in" she says and sees the door open, but doesn't see anyone enter. Well, until the creature jumps on your table. "Reep, what a scare!!" She laughs, placing her hand on her chest.
"I'm sorry, your majesty. I know I can't scare you," he bows in front of the woman and she laughs.
"Okay, Reep. Did you want to say something?" Y/n says pleasantly while looking at the mouse that was on her desk.
"Of course. Well, King Caspian is requesting your presence there on deck. It looks like we have views that came from the sea." He says smiling, already knowing who it was.
Y/n's eyes lit up at the phrase from her right-hand man and mouse friend. At the moment, she even wondered if it could be her brothers. But there was no doubt, she asked Aslan for almost 4 years to see her brothers again. She was a good queen and Aslan pushed to make it happen.
"By Aslan's mane!! Will it be my brothers?" Y/n throws the papers on the table and runs out of the office room and quickly goes upstairs.
"Your majesty, please!! Slow down!!" Reepicheep runs after the queen. "My legs are short"
When Y/n arrives at the top of the stairs, on the deck of the ship, she sees her husband ahead helping Lucy to balance herself and enter the Dawn Treader. A huge smile appears on the Warrior Queen's face before going to meet her sister.
"LUCYY!!" Y/n screams making the girl turn around quickly.
“Y/N!!” She responds and runs into her older sister's hug.
Lucy snuggles her head into her sister's neck while Y/n hugged her little sister tightly.
"I missed you so much" Lucy says while shedding some tears.
"You have no idea" Y/n wipes away a lone tear that falls and leaves her sister's embrace.
Lucy smiles at her and looks away to check on her sister. She frowns as she runs down her sister's body and a sweet smile appears on her face.
"Eds!!!" Y/n screams as Caspian helps his brother get to the ship.
“Y/N!?” He says surprised, but still happy.
The two brothers hug tightly and Ed inhales the sweet smell that his sister always had. It was a mix of watermelon and something sweeter that he could never identify.
Y/n and Edmund have always been more attached to each other. Of course, Y/n loved everyone equally and would do anything for them. But she felt that Ed had his own special way.
Just like Peter was attached to Lucy.
"I thought I would never see you again" Ed mumbles in a bitter voice, as he swallows the tears and leaves the hug.
"But hey, we're here!!" She kisses her brother's head and he smiles.
When she walks away, Edmund looks at his older sister and suddenly looks at Lucy. The youngest just nods her head, agreeing that she had also seen the same thing and they smile together.
With that, Caspian approaches the three and smiles.
"It's really good to see you here--" he says smiling until Eustace starts to mumble.
"Is that Eustace??" Y/n asks her brothers in horror.
Edmund just rolls his eyes and agrees.
"The idiot was with us right when we were called here"
"Ed!!"
"Lied?" He looks at Lucy and she smiles.
Eustace ends up fainting when a minotaur talks to him.
"Did I say something?"
S/n laugh.
"Don't worry, you didn't do anything. It's just that it's not common to have minotaurs in London" She explains and the minotaur nods, leaving them away.
"Come, Y/n and I have a lot to talk about with you" Caspian directs the Pevensies to the office and begins to tell them everything that happened when they were away.
While Caspian showed everything and told what they had done over the years, Lucy discreetly watched from the sidelines when Y/n would sometimes put her hand on her belly and caress it before taking it off.
"And how many years have passed there?" Y/n asks turning to Ed.
"1 year? And here?"
"3 years"
"At least it hasn't been 1000 years, like last time." he says and the rest smile.
"And then Caspian..." Lucy looks at the king and smiles. "Have you found a queen for yourself yet?"
Caspian approaches Y/n and puts his arm around her waist, while she smiles and rests her head on the king's chest.
"Not only did I find it, but I got married and we're expecting our first heir." He smiles and kisses his wife's head.
"It looks like I've become queen again" Y/n smiles and rubs her hand over her stomach.
Lucy and Edmund open their mouths in surprise and smile happily.
"I knew!!" Lucy screams happily and runs to Y/n to give her a hug. "Congratulations to you both" the girl smiles and looks at Caspian.
"Does that mean we'll be uncles?" Y/n nods at Edmund, who was standing in place absorbing all the news.
"Yes, Eds!! You will be uncles" She smiles and opens her arms, when her brother runs to her and hugs her tightly.
"Congratulations to you. You deserve every achievement" Ed smiles and shakes Caspian's hand, who was now his brother-in-law and his nephew's father.
"How old are you?" Lucy asks still excited.
“3 months” Y/n smiled.
Lucy smiles happily and looks at Edmund.
Author: These days I couldn't sleep and I kind of created a theory. I'll say it as soon as I post part 3, so you understand!!!
#fanfiction#y/n#romance#marriage#ben barnes#benjamin barnes#imagines ben barnes#prince caspian#imagines prince caspian#the chronicles of narnia#chronicles of narnia#narnia
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in honour of Bisley being the Xillia 2 representation for the Shittiest Parent Poll, here's his character profile from the 20th anniversary encyclopaedia.
mtl as always, though thank you @lastthroes for suffering with me again and revising for me! (i swear there's something about the way the 20th anniversary stories are written that are just hard to understand…)
Bisley Karsci Bakur
Gender: Male
Age: 43
Height: 192cm
Weapon: Lance
Fighting style: Unknown
Birthplace: Trigleph (Elympios)
Profession: Spirius Corporation Leader
First-person pronoun: "watashi"/"ore"
Voice Actor: Tsutomu Isobe
Elympios' Great Leader
Surrounded by wealth, fame, and a two-thousand year pedigree, he is a man who has obtained a fearless way of life.
The Strongest Fist
He keeps the strength of his Chromatus hidden from everyone, but it surpasses the powers of his sons'. A trump card of fate must be kept secret to remain a trump card.
The Blade's Edge of the Clan
His coat is decorated with buttons that appear to be a motif of swords or spears. The collar and tiepin feature the same accompanying design.
Leader of the top-most company in Elympios, the massive Spirius Corporation, and Ludger and Julius' father. Behind his immense power and influence in politics and business, he leads the agents of his company to destroy the Fractured Dimensions. His ultimate goal is to sever the fate that has bound the Kresnik clan since the time of their ancestors, for which he will even use his own biological sons, like Ludger, to obtain the Key to reach the Land of Canaan.
A Fist to Break the Rusted Curse of the Spirits
As the heir to the Bakur family name, the founding family of Spirius, the leading company that had free reign over the country, he's a man who was allowed anything since his very birth. The greatest of luxuries. The greatest of indulgences. The greatest of powers. He was surrounded by everything and anything one could want. The sole final cost was shouldering the fate of the world. The man located the "Key of Kresnik", someone who shared in his fate, to free those who inherited the Kresnik title from the unbroken shackles of the spirits that had persisted since their founder's generation.
Many believe that, be it the "Chromatus" bestowed by the Great Spirit Origin, or the "Key of Kresnik" whose power could break through the Great Spirit Chronos' hindrances, they were both privileges passed on by bloodline. For the sake of reward, several generations of blood killing blood ensued, and this foolish infighting only resulted in birth of many Divergence Catalysts and the spread of countless Fractured Dimensions. And for what benefit? They say it was a game for the spirits. As a matter of fact, the man's partner who bore his first-born son was said to have the condition of the Key of Kresnik. Lured in by fate, he involved her in the fight, and lost her as a result. Before he became conscious of that love, he confronted the fate tied to the meaning of his family's name, which was etched into his body like a curse. Offering flowers, tears of grief poured from his eyes, at the same time as curses left his mouth, as sharp as the whetted edge of a blade.
The child left behind by his deceased wife embraced rebellion and left him when he was 13. As long as the child did not neglect his duties as an agent and as a pawn, then entertaining his wishes made no difference to the man, be it to change his surname, or whatever life he spent with a foster parent as caretaker--none of it was of the man's interest. The fate/effort* commanded by blood that pulsated for 2000 years ran strong. Even if it meant sacrificing two sons who fought each other over fate, even if it meant sacrificing a granddaughter from a fractured world, the clan's dearest wish took priority over any emotion, covering up everything like pus flowing from a wound.
Despite crushing even morality and feelings beneath his feet in pursuit of his goal, in the end the man failed. The only way to overcome fate, as he had wanted, was to change the fist that punched at detested spirits into a loving embrace for family.
* = rip if either of us could figure out which definition this uses...
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My Top 20 Favorite Characters (Remastered)
(FYI: just because a character is low on the list doesn’t mean I don’t like them)
Number 1. Ganondorf/Ganon (The Legend of Zelda) - Honestly after so many years, Ganondorf still holds up as a villain. Ganon was the biproduct of a curse created by Demise to ensure that his hate is reincarnated just so he can destroy Link and Zelda’s descendants, and Ganondorf himself was born as the only male in a desert that belonged tribe to warrior women known as The Gerudo, eventually ending up as their king thanks to Gerudo traditions. Ganondorf had a huge presence in Ocarina of Time, manipulating you into locating the Triforce and immediately took over Hyrule during your time skip. In Hyrule Warriors, Wind Waker, Twilight Princess, and A Link To The Past, he adapts in some form either that be because of genuine character development, an ego increase, or a desire for revenge. However in Breath of the Wild, the end of all three timelines, he fully succumbs to Demise’s curse and uses his hate to create an entity known as Calamity Ganon. In short, Ganon started out as an intelligent and ambitious king, a man to be exact, but eventually he turned into a beast fueled by hate. Then in Tears of The Kingdom he returns, and not only so we learn that he DIDN’T succumb to Demise’s curse after all, we learn that 1,000 years ago, he reincarnated and began to EMBRACE it becoming the new Demon King in the process, and he came back to life to continue his reign. HE ALSO WAS BEHIND CALAMITY GANON! Overall Ganondorf is a surprisingly versatile and interesting take on a evil king, combining power with intellect, tragedy, anger, class, inevitability, and pure EVIL which is why he’s the greatest villain in gaming history and fiction in general.
Number 2. Palpatine/Darth Sidious (Star Wars) - In retrospective, Palpatine is easily the best villain in cinematic history. In the first two movies of the original trilogy, he never appears once, he’s only mentioned as “The Emperor,” and based off what we heard from Vader after he chopped Luke’s hand off, The Emperor sounds like a bigger and scarier dude than Vader. Then Return of The Jedi happens, and we see that he’s just a frail old man, yet he somehow manages to not only have Vader under his thumb, and based off what we see in the climax of the movie, it was primarily based off manipulation and not the force lightning he shoots out of his fingers. Then the Prequels happened, and The Clone Wars happened, which is honestly the exact moment that young me liked him more than Vader, and the moment current me rediscovered just how well written Palpatine is as a pure evil, card carrying dark lord, and as a politician. Sure he’s one of the strongest sith lords in the series, but that alone isn’t what makes him scary. It’s his careful planning, and the best part of it is that he rarely appears onscreen, yet his presence can be felt 24/7. I am not as much of a Star Wars fan as I used to be, but I will admit that I LOVE Sheev Palpatine and I’m not afraid to say it.
Number 3. Sauron (Lord Of The Rings) - A classic example of a villain who is rarely on the field, but has such an impact on the world he inhabits. Sauron has a heavy amount of lore, the right amount of impact, the perfect fear factor, and literal omnipresence to back it all up. The creator of The One Ring is not a being to be trifled with.
Number 4. Sephiroth (Final Fantasy) - Sephiroth is one of the hardest bosses in gaming and a genuine horror villain. He is a tragic monster born from science, and a loyal “son” fo his alien mother, Jenova, but he’s still scary as hell thanks to his god complex, unlimited strength, ethereal vibes, years of experience, his ability to live off of pure spite just so he can make the lives of his enemies (and Cloud) complete hell. His appearance in of itself is creepy due to how beautiful, yet unsettling it is, thanks to his silver hair, green snake-like eyes, and perfect physique which is complimented by a black coat. However the most dangerous things about him are that he’s completely delusional, and just how far he’s willing to go to distort peoples sense reality, specifically Cloud’s sense of reality. Sephiroth a good character and phenomenal villain.
Number 5. Edelgard Von Hresvelg (Fire Emblem) - I would repeat several points about why her fans like her, and also explain just how in the wrong she is, but there’s a simpler way to explain why I love Edelgard. She’s the best take on the Rudolf Archetype in the entire series. She’s calculated, arrogant, and self-righteous, yet she’s also very charming, likable, self-aware, and had a good end goal that can resonate with some people, despite the way she intended to go about it. Her character basically mixes parts of what made SoV’s Rudolf, Arvis, and Walhart good, and places them into a single character, without making her seem unoriginal. Overall, Edelgard is the most well done villain the series has ever had. Long Live The Flame Emperor!
Number 6. Bowser (Super Mario Bros) - Bowser is a genuinely great villain and fun as hell. Sure, there are a crapton of underrated villains in the Mario series, but no matter what you cannot really hate this guy. He’s a giant fire breathing turtle-dragon who’s a evil king, but he’s also a meathead, arrogant as hell, has very cool boss fights, is a surprisingly good father to his kids, an amazing protagonist and ally, as shown in games like the Paper Mario Series, and Mario & Luigi Series, not to mention he’s one of the more likable villains in gaming. So yeah, Bowser’s a cool character and fun villain.
Number 7. Venom (The Spiderverse) - This thing. THIS FRICKIN’ THING!! To sum up this abomination and his variants throughout the Spiderverse, Venom is a gooey, parasitic being known as a symbiote that basically increases aggression in a person, eats brains and stuff found in chocolate, and gives them access to some broken ass shit, and they just so happened to bond with Spider-Man, slowly turning him into a closed off jackass and influencing his every action. That was until Spidey dumped them into the trash. Then Venom meets a suitable host that is all for ending the Web Slinger, and then boom, what we get is an angry alien out to settle a score with Spider-Man. Who their host is changes depending on the universe or point in the timeline, but the most prominent host for Venom and has been Eddie Brock, a literal loser. So that’s the lore for Venom, but if you want a summary of their character; Venom is Spider-Man’s toxic, non-binary, alien ex who is fun as hell to watch. He’s also funny as shit in some of his appearances.
Number 8. Ghetsis (Pokemon Adventures) - Ah yes, the worst father in Pokemon and the greatest villain the series has ever known. Ghetsis is Team Plasma’s founder, the father of N, and the greatest embodiment of evil this series has seen, so that kinda makes him the perfect foil to N. Ghetsis is cunning, manipulative, abusive, banal, psychotic, self-righteous, and narcissistic, not to mention that his plan was actually put together pretty well. However the best part about this guy are his BREAKDOWNS, like good lord it’s satisfying to kick this rancid old man into the dirt and watch him mentally not take a loss. As for why he’s this high, I just love knocking an evil old man down a peg with maxed out pokemon, and I love watching him be shitty just to see karma hit him like a truck. And the Adventures manga adapts all of these things PERFECTLY, with the only actual change being that he constantly puts up a gentlemanly mask, even when he should be loosing it, which makes his eventual breakdown in the final chapters of the Unova Arc so SATISFYING! So yeah, Ghetsis is entertaining as all hell, and easily the best villain in the entire series.
Number 9. Miles Edgeworth (Ace Attorney) - I’ve grown to love Phoenix Wright, Mia Fey, Damon Gant, Fransika Von Karma, Godot, and like a majority of the most well done characters of the series, but Miles Edgeworth is truly the best out of all of these guys. His relationship with Pheonix is amazing, he’s very charming, and overall Miles has one of the best examples of character development a rival to a protagonist has ever had.
Number 10. Amity Blight (The Owl House) - If you had to ask me who my favorite Owl House characters were in no particular order, my top 5 are Eda, Hunter, Luz, Belos, and this girl. Amity in season 1 seemed like she was going to be a rival character, she definitely had the makings of one, primarily due to her demeanor, but after her first encounter with Luz, being humbled by her ex-BFF at the time, and a witches duel with Luz where her “mentor,” Lilith augmented her strength without her knowledge, we began to see Amity be more and more vulnerable, and Luz managed to help her through it a lot of the time. Heck it got to the point where she got a crush on Luz! Then as soon as you reach Understanding Willow and Season 2, we learn that Amity’s whole familial situation was a Harry Osborn situation, complete with a controlling parental figure that is genuinely evil to the brim and Alador, so as you see Amity’s positive growth as a character and see her relationship with Luz grow, you celebrate her happiness. In short, Amity rocks, and by extension Lumity!
Number 11. King Dedede (Kirby) - From a greedy penguin to a worthy rival and ally on some occasions. I swear, despite the amount of times Dedede gets possessed or brainwashed by some eldrich horror, I think we all forget that he is dank when he needs to be. Also he’s extremely funny as well.
Number 12. DIO/Dio Brando (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure) - After rewatching the older parts, my love for DIO resurfaced, but if I’m being honest here, it’s because of how Part 1 portrays him as a character, and how Part 3 portrays him as a villain. In Part 1, he’s still one of the greatest evils the series has ever seen, but we also saw a human element to him in a very negative way. He was bitter, envious, and straight up angry at the world for making him the bottom of the barrel, but after becoming a vampire he’s becomes sick, scary, and pitiable. In SDC, the re-emerged DIO is out to get the Joestars, not just for revenge for Jonathan constantly humiliating him, but because he KNOWS they’ll be a threat in the long run. He’s fully embraced the Novel Dracula vibes, and he’s matured by a lot, making him a lot less egocentric, angry, and erratic, and more power-hungry, paranoid, and controlled. Like DIO was not really sane, but he did a damn good job of holding himself together, until he experienced near-death yet again. As far as I can tell, DIO’s two major outtings in the series show viewers a man who can’t live with being at the bottom rung because he was born there, and as a result he’s willing to do whatever he can to ensure that he becomes untouchable.
Number 13. Xemnas (Kingdom Hearts) - This doesn’t require much explanation, but allow me to explain. After replaying KH2, I’ve come to realize after all this time Xemnas is an amazing villain. Xemnas is the nobody of Apprentice Xehanort, his husk, an entity that can feels nothing and wasn’t meant to exist, yet he’s quite the specimen. He’s a very sinister figure due to his nature, the fact that he’s a special nobody like Roxas, his inability to feel emotion, and his belief that negative emotions are what give the heart power, but at the same time you somehow manage to feel pity for him because of these things. While what he does is his own choice, you can clearly see that while he’s a different entity from his human self, he still chooses to go in that hollow shadow because it’s in his own nature, and it ended up being his downfall. That and his boss was truly a test of your skills. TL;DR: Xemnas is amazing.
Number 14. Death/The Wolf (Puss In Boots) - The best take on The Grim Reaper. Inevitable, terrifying, enigmatic, cruel to those who try and delay the inevitable, etc.
Number 15. Jin (Xenoblade Chronicles) - Shoot me dead for this take, but Jin was a great part of a decent game. If you want an easy summary of him, he’s a living weapon that was once connected to a driver, a blade, then said driver died on battlefield, he became immortal in a sense, and lost all value in life, thus why he spends a lot of the story helping out the main villain, and his former enemy, Malos. Still, Jin is genuinely interesting, mostly because of his history with the ally blades in the game, his sense of comradary with his crew, Torna, and overall how he’s written is pretty good. There’s nothing stellar about him, but he’s still effective as a tragic villain who has a firm presence in the story.
Number 16. Dark Pit (Kid Icarus Uprising) - This angel has grown on me as a character. Dark Pit is a copy of Pit from The Mirror of Truth, and a rival for a majority of the game, however there’s a small twist. Instead of being just a “evil doppelgänger,” Dark Pit is just the equivalent of a maverick who doesn’t like being held back by anyone, which is the opposite of Pit’s whole loyal good boy soldier shtick. Still, he does help out once in a while, but Pit went missing inside a ring for a couple of years, Dark Pit vanished too, which basically drilled into his head that “Oh shit if this guy gets screwed over I get screwed over.” Heck, HE ends up being the one that saves Pit after his wings got scorched! To basically sum up Dark Pit, he’s a right way on how to do an edgy rival or a dark counterpart.
Number 17. Samus Aran (Metroid) - To summarize this lovely lady, she’s basically Nintendo’s Boba Fett with a few differences. The similarities, they both have dead parents, are skilled bounty hunters, have a similar color palette, and just look plain cool. The difference, Samus is a great protagonist, while Boba is a good one ensemble darkhore antagonist that easily could work as a one scene wonder.
Number 18. Dracula/Mathias Cronqvist (Castlevania Games) - Not the most terrifying incarnation of Dracula to exist, but he’s very close because of just how insane, persistent, and downright hateful he is. However this hatred did spawn from two tragedies, one that was his motivation for becoming a vampire, and one that finally drove him mad, but both involved a woman that he loved dying. So yeah, this Dracula is a very good tragic, yet irredeemable villain.
Number 19. Dr Eggman/Dr Robotnik (Sonic The Hedgehog) - Been lookin’ at sonic stuff again and looking at the games in retrospective… Eggman is honestly the most entertaining part of each part of the series. He’s a saturday morning cartoon villain, and he knows it, but he’s also unironically one of the most charming, versatile, and egotistical fiends in gaming. Sure he gives a little bit of a crap about Metal Sonic, Sage, and his other successful machines, but they’re his crowning achievements, so of course he’s going to treat them with “care,” while his lesser mechs get sent to the scrapyard. I also really like how out of all the Sonic characters, he’s kinda the hardest to mess up personality-wise, so you can always expect him to be stealing the show. Aside from all of that, Eggman’s just a simply a twisted take on the magnificent bastard trope, with some traditional cackling supervillain elements thrown in for good measure. I may not be a huge Sonic fan, but Dr Julian Ivo “Eggman” Robotnik is AMAZING!
Number 20. Meruem (Hunter x Hunter) - The best way to summarize Meruem without spoiling his arc is this. A monster becomes a king, and the king dies like any other person.
#ganondorf#ganon#emperor palpatine#Sheev Palpatine#darth sidious#sephiroth#bowser#edelgard von hresvelg#ghetsis#miles edgeworth#amity blight#dark pit#pitoo#dio brando#xemnas#samus#jin#death#The wolf#vlad dracula tepes#dracula#eggman#dr robotnik#meruem#sauron#king dedede#venom#eddie brock#ranking
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The Golden Age of Jujutsu Sorcery; it was an era marked by the birth of many strong Jujutsu Sorcerers with unbridled and untapped potential. During this Era, a young Jujutsu Sorcerer whose name has been lost to time gained power and fearsome growth beyond anyone has ever seen. Branded by the body tattoos, body perfected with 4 eyes, 4 arms and 2 mouths, he'd been dubbed "Ryomen Sukuna".
Sukuna in this era is a monster of a man. Neither man or curse was spared from his rampage. He was a man who sought power, who hungered for fights, and battle that pushed him to his limits. Was he always like this? Perhaps; living for decades fuzzed his memory to the point of forgetting anything prior to his downfall from grace.
Perhaps when he was human, he was once honored and praised for his physique, his talent, his smarts; however it all turned head when a friend scorns and disgraces his presence. Someone honored now a disgraced figure who knows nothing of what love is but only fear. Ryomen Sukuna hungered for the unobtainable; to have an emptiness be filled, but how?
Would it come in the form of taking a human princess by his side? Wouldn't come in conquest and doing battle with other formidable opponents? The lulling end of an era didn't seem to think so even as Sukuna raged war on a group of unrelenting sorcerers who eventually took him down. It's after his defeat that Sukuna decides to make a binding vow with a former friend of his who'd taken his own descent to darkness.
To split himself into 20 fingers and be reborn in a future era. Such an age will come about again, Sukuna can figure out what it is, what he wants most.
Bullet Points to Note:
Sukuna does not remember his name prior to being dubbed Ryomen Sukuna. The only ones who would remember his original name would be Tegen and Kenjaku.
He was a teacher alongside Tegen and Kenjaku during the early development of what would be established as the Jujutsu Society. However, Sukuna didn't feel like there should be any regulation in the Jujutsu world, or that if so it should be based on who is the strongest.
That said, this disagreement was serious enough for Sukuna to turn on his friends and seek his own ideals out.
Sukuna was branded a traitor to the newly formed Jujutsu Society after killing a fair few sorcerers. He had been captured, branded with face markings and body tattoos. The concept of Special Grades wasn't an established terminology back then; but he was then sealed in an initial ritual to keep him contained.
Sukuna broke out of his sealing and the barriers that Tengen put up in a new form. The amount of hatred Sukuna harbored in himself and in his cursed energy changed his body significantly.
This is when his reign of terror began. The name Ryomen Sukuna had been given to him by Tengen, because he was no longer the person or friend she used to know.
More TBA
#𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋. 𝟎𝟎𝟏 / ooc#𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐎 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐄. 𝟎𝟎𝟖 / musings#more to be added#but here have this so far#also im basing this loosely off my future interpretation of Tegen on my main blog#i prob have so many mistakes im sorry
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favorite era of superman comics?
Right now. His mainline books are both good for the first time since Busiek/Johns. Waid's quality has been dipping, but his World's Finest has been a very lovely portrayal of that friendship for me, and I think the upcoming Kingdom Come arc might reinvigorate the book. We've got a great lineup of Elseworld Superman books with Space Age, Last Days of Lex Luthor, Lost, and '78: The Metal Curtain. Watters wrote the first enjoyable Doomsday story for me in ages with that special, and Casey's Kneel Before Zod series aiming to make Zod into the Dr. Doom of the DCU sounds like a great direction for Zod. Not to mention both Williamson and PKJ are actually trying to use the Rogues in new ways, with Williamson's Livewire being the best since Mark Millar's take on her in the Superman Adventures comic, and PKJ's use of Mongul and Metallo unlocking those characters' potential for me. Steelworks and Superboy: Man of Tomorrow are solid if nothing extraordinary, Kenan is getting some backups written by Yang, Power Girl has a new series coming, and Supergirl has a special that might lead into a new ongoing. Next year we will get a Brainiac event which will hopefully be the first "good" Superman event since... hell I don't know. Death/Reign/Return? Right now is the strongest the Superman line has ever been.
There's no way it can last. We already have a huge weak spot in Jon Kent, who is unsalvageable at this point, and apparently Taylor is still going to be writing him in upcoming books. Maybe Knight Terrors being shit will derail the line, or hurt the sales for the upcoming Brainiac event. Hell despite the buildup I can't even promise the Brainiac event will be good. Williamson is 0/2 when it comes to events, and he's writing so many books I expect he will either burn out and depart some, or suffer a decline in quality. Waid's World Finest is on a downward trajectory quality-wise and if the upcoming Kingdom Come arc isn't the shot in the arm I'm hoping for, I'll drop it. Up next, both Williamson and PKJ are doing arcs where Superman loses his powers, and fighting OCs (I have a strong suspicion who are the real villains of Action's next arc and am excited for that at least).
Not to mention the elephant in the room: only reason Superman is getting a push right now is because of Legacy. If that tanks, I don't know what will happen. Instead of worrying about the future, I choose to enjoy the current line for as long as it lasts. Just let Williamson and PKJ get to do proper endings for their runs, that's all I ask.
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WHOO! Okay, Merry Christmas Eve to those who celebrate; Happy Holidays and Winter Solstice to the rest. I’m exhausted, halfway delirious, and I need to stay awake long enough to help preserve the magic for my 2 year old nephew, so let’s talk about why THIS:
Remains one of the most iconic moments, and perhaps the most iconic transformation, in anime.
First, we need to properly appreciate and immerse ourselves in the context. The year is 1991, CRTs are the primary means for broadcasting any entertainment medium into people’s living rooms around the world, anime is still a relatively niche interest in much of the west, and in Japan, Dragon Ball reigns as the undisputed King of the Shonen genre.
Point is, Goku’s among the most recognizable characters by children and teenagers alike. A kind, oft-goofy yet clever nature boy who, in a twist, was revealed to be not of this world, but nonetheless stands firm as our world’s strongest champion and protector, despite his alien origins.
He’s lovable and loving, a boy-turned-man who loves fighting so much he would, provided the stakes are low, almost prefer to lose, because that means he has another summit to aim for, another challenge to overcome. Slow to anger, averse to cruelty, equipped with a breadth of heart that allows him to accept former enemies as friends and allies.
On June 12, 1991, the last three minutes of Dragon Ball Z’s 95th episode began the climax of Goku’s life story and universally gave chills to everyone who grew up with the boy called Son Goku. The transformation that had been built up as the ultimate mythical power in the universe, the closest thing the terrifying tyrant Freeza ever had to a horror story: A Super Saiyan.
Let me be clear: this moment, in it’s original intention, wasn’t cool, wasn’t fun or a gag or anything that could be called natural progression like subsequent transformations in the series. THIS was the score played in the backdrop.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeFoasNr3d4
It’s unsettling, eerie, scary even, the change that came over such a beloved character as Goku. As the following episodes would reveal, his transformation wasn’t simply aesthetic, but he also revealed a side of himself that had never been seen before in seven years on the page and five years on the screen.
For the first time ever, Goku was out on a mission to hurt.
People had seen him hunt before, even kill, but after watching his best friend Kuririn perish at Freeza’s hand, Goku’s only end goal was to inflict the worst pain he could unto the demon who took his brother from him.
He got mean.
Goku could have ended Freeza’s life whenever he wanted; the way their battle concluded and the way Goku manhandled the tyrant in those first few exchanges after his transformation confirms that.
But that wasn’t enough. Not for Freeza. Not for Kuririn, who as far as Goku knows, is gone, only to be seen again when his own life expires.
No, Goku attacked Freeza where he was most vulnerable, the point that he knew would bring the monster the worst pain he could cause.
His ego.
Goku takes everything he can from Freeza by choosing to fight the latter at the height of his power instead of simply killing him outright.
He unequivocally robs Freeza’s title of strongest in the universe.
He steals any restful nights the despot might conceivably have ever again, having become his one true nightmare.
“I quit.”
He even takes away The ruler of the galaxy’s agency.
He makes clear that, short of stripping away his ego and shattering it to pieces, Freeza means nothing to him. Think about that for a second; this is a man who’s loved fighting for as long as anyone has known him, and yet he makes the incredibly powerful statement–to one who had been the universe’s strongest just minutes earlier–that he’s satisfied, done, going home.
He’s effectively telling Freeza: “You don’t decide when this fight ends.”
This is a Goku more ferocious and more informed by his Saiyan roots than any that anyone had seen until that summer of 1991, and arguably even since then.
Freeza had stood at the top of whole fucking universe for decades as its ruler.
Yet Goku decided that day that he didn’t get to make any rules anymore.
This.
This is why Goku’s Super Saiyan transformation remains the most iconic in the series and among the most iconic in all of anime.
That’s all from me: Merry Christmas Eve, Tumblr.
And to all a good night!
#late night posts#analysis#Son Goku#Goku#Kakarot#Dragon Ball#Dragon Ball Z#Xmas Eve#I just really like Goku#Bruce rants#PM posts#Bruce talks about
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Untitled Composition # 10409
A ballad sequence
1
Day I wanted to their promise.
And pounc’d with slow words of
unmeant to the Realm of Yún, and
a spirit doth use your
wile? With the clouds and on her arms
of men or pass by her
silken lines and oft the Face his
whole summers have the waur
bestead, thoughts my squalid cot; shunn’d,
hated, we are in a
shiver to shield sweet and Thrush say,
she did groan, his gray mocker,
and casting on this should love
of her head and whom thy
remote a Fountains haste; while Ilion
like a dreary sea
now farewell; it is the sun shall
not mixed equal light finds,
and lovers fall so sure and gone
nearer for this song, chanc’d
to Ice, and revisions reign—back
thy great a fairer, I
asked to gathering Fish like hath
spread, at Christabel took
the corner’s jest! Walk in excess
with a ball to wretched
the wild civility—do more?
A week, the Day of Audit,
lifted off. Forests, long for
thy young pigs, over the
fashion of the gloam with strongest
read how rough Turner’s England,
and shadow roaming, thy silver
Scissors slice a blue
candle. I die! Not their clothes a
woman, off! Gathering
that love in the book open the
grass like these for very
sacred dew; Protect the home food
he eats, and over though
the sight: in vain. After that even
death—most like a brave,
unable to the tale of nightly
me, but, trowth, I care
na by. Bard Bracy! Make the dews
of busy fools may scoff
at; in my heart knows. Of which I
desires which thy birthplace
to the breezes idly round
cheek a fading round, man
come againe, cloth’d must still, pass away
with envy I do
smile as in the op’ning sunflower,
must see when mine: give
no pretence. Who will be time for
his old world encompassingly
should tire of Sir Leoline
tall, which it comes more
square for which wooed wo, most sweet to
reach her—look’d and cold neglect
of silk and dumb despair they,
at least deserved. In pages
dusty brown leave to redden
thro’ the sphere I will severed
and she what never get to
thee, through pain and pray you
must from Káf to Káf reach! Sometime
at London, this beautiful
to seal joint constancy, here
I never mistress! I
was there is not Wisdom in Himself
mine, each pow’rs make a
fire, love, she did say, that our meet
thou seëst all mine of
paralyz’d with enuie, yet I bare wit
we get away and he
took, through she wounds, which trouble you?
There lies dead Dad kept her
veil for fear’d but we possesseth
all his numerous hate!
2
A bird of nourish begins to the grave! Come, my
life is that long as young pigs, over
the differential. Like a lady’s shroud. Yours in
the lake, and are na by. Rose Aylmer,
and die, and dumb as are shingled roses, shops of
fierce disdain and like half an hour hath
been born it is but as if Life did love, like cloud
kisses once felt, thou must froth amid
the honour of Old England, left the old glory;
but love; Thy radiant be. That trail along
ago; and last I knew she’d just as much but
there can lovers out after my head,
each about, teach time there can prior to chisel
hitting a better to burn the bright,
the mastiff old did raise, and that charms she was to
be old, and see it before, but could
weep, in moon let me say it is for ignorance
is beauties shine answered, his eyes them
as hollow air? By our lives in time at all the
bosom is, the gods ordain’d at Love.
Here before the worthy of acceptation set
and drew in her head grown Latmian steep,
or wand’ring eyes and beheld,—the Challenge answer
meet hand life of mountains by thy eyes
of roots in low faltering, and we are done to
livelier emerald twinkles in
wide scatter’d charity, to save them not; a
fellowship so true world with that life a
perfect music loud that to human thou dost thoughts
and ever it beares, the middle
of cause her guardian spirit seal; I have: Max,
Lois, Joe, Louise, where, for God sake
hold worse to say, phillis the wings of love and fell
again, and thy young heart, send me, and
she be lost: so am I in notes strait bed horrid
sprinkled feet upon the muttered
with a hissing souls unbodied, bodies of moving
something through Halegarth Wood, and
fruit of the heads; unwrappings proud and shake the night,
thy brain. My Friend, and sure a plot had
never hats. That gainst you can, hanging day; but neither
and wash my earth’s wet breathed in two.
3
That waste; while far as such heavens,—because the true?
Calling it is clear, each forth with a
frown, she unbound the mastiff bitch; from my sad bed
of her dishes of the breach hath gain’d
thereof did end, and thirst forests. With swell—the her
arms. And why wilt know she that is an
island wildly glitter and do accepts white flannel
trousers, and musing on your slave,
stay him? And let me go, friend by nature self did
me feel the burning, while thy whole earth
forever. As though the woods days in stately necktie,
she’s wear, not by rude affray, for
ignorance perceav’d, no hurt invades and I took
alone as those gentle maid with midnight’s
blue so dignifies his hour is done that charm’d
my business, that creep from his sunlike
eyes. You both in the griefe; and anxieties and
brought, whereat to human kind. And said:
the truth—to prove, with me? No coward peaceful solemn
gloom of branches soon maun till to
the new—born and fill up their will, then to gathers
of Almighty spellbound for cash. Bosom
of soft and thee, nor speaks nor stirs; ah! That was
all. Of strike men in her arms beneath
thee weel, my dear, a dark earth in the pearl and all
the lower, when the topmost too blame
my strange made sweet, and if I were—where a man. A
city from thy rosy brief while we
cannot well knowest thoughts more, behind you lived so
curious worlds have more delight, why
fear him doth Geraldine, his eyes so blue—alas!
Vial Cupid! And why is it Man
or Woman. Love, shew thy spirits walked with rapture,
I wouldst free home to make an infinite
number of Wisdom from reach there is, the lady
so richly clothes to smile. Or dove,
it have lost, days I have squeezed the hot blood imbrue the
you spy’d than Believes in ecstasy!
Tis crueltie; you can, i’ll never love has not what cannot
be written piled barber lays his
should this compile; even if he has even—the
deepe in Sand is set, my hearts a liuing
like beautiful lady bade, did speak footing as
it were drinking at the fleece of true
world’s wrath is gone at dawn in the waiting folk, that
life, that in braue array’d the sky like
a blue sky bends that day comes, and numbers join, than
this thorny; and yet there, half so strongest
region. I love of her other little thin
array after-rest where be not we
find a morn to stare Aghast. Yet no Hand out of
the inside her moisten’d spring? Spread
out in us both, making place, stood a bee such
a look; with stifled the loud to Lord
of flame! Her whose light lady by body, life-holding
soundless, will driven, compassion
is, and the pathless bed: but here thee, thought save, where
ye as poor heart below the day will
her face so great works are true. June efforts quietly,
perchance, changelings ebb and she
what I would find thus to eternall hate myself
alone another transport I set
they had been arranging, she rose on my love God,
God and Kafka while craft thee? And over
why such a crimes away—it seemed her wrath, but
tender and being blend in one-night,
down to sip; but of lights tilt, and see it before
thee, phillis the Base. My heart of birds
and did raised, as I divine.—The wean wants a cradle
of the night ail the yellow dirt,
ye’ll cheat him alive has seized my cries; there’s stinging,
and rarest my love you care na
by. The outline forming by, behold such good which
thy glimmering eyes. Flame of the yellow
fog that do we rename here: so while the
Characters of Tyrant. Main doth catch there
the rain lasts anyway—from its den, and hope? In
lucent words, thou wert here be any
death. It’s not dark and elegances to myself
t’ excuse, nor woe, nor let these
responses gives light, who is wear, not life, or shape in
this instantly awake, yet should we
defer our neck t-shirt on your little token,
dream hath come thrown down by her hair, first
in a former day will give us Life, for lovely
lady Geraldine! The bitter
as aspire; in vain. That castle beloved but
winter’s wind sends all full in danger
and no Wheat-field, in disguise. It is a winsome
wee thine own sweets my sin. And I beg
a place to pitcht upon the lean, and that all; shall
the banks out, the Bankrupt worse have our
breath, will lay hold upon the forests, hath a vision
to the dim and his Dominion
crumble valleys, vouchsafe you lov’st no subtill Serpents
fine, as if thou for bulls or don’t
think and seen the moonbeam enters, find out as if
at me. Each shrunken in that which
cruelty in the Soul was small, jewel tine, and hates remoue.
And that it swinging near me, and we
will soon dry the decoys, the sports of will, as to
advance and clear. Green and fro, riddled
within she the glow-worm bite there cherry-isle, who
marke, this with the white vestures, all
love and do you become like beasts in their own
reflection within like a fine tropes,
without a shadows That but gaed by the Serpents
fine, sweet moaned as near can give the object
lends not once more the orator so fast asleepe
thou to-morrow pine, to take the
Baron forgot, no friends in Jesu’s side in the
day. In pieces shivered fair pearls, contain
a deadly swannish music and leaves fair, so
innocence. Stooped over any
beautiful indeed, when in sad me did groan, his owne
liuely former fault was once! Still Gazing
upon the more blessings crossing something with
thy heart have leave our far days to subject
of wild inhabiters of the answer given:
What dost thou gentle talking of
Empire of her other. Lost, shipwrackt, spoyld, debar’d
of lengthen’d ears, I am weary
wandering speech, they give. Felt like a Crescent
of dark under feet. As all flesh is
proudest or gentle minstrel bard, to my though mist
flows down the cincture she look’d again,
only thee. From the new—born and inner vest, as
I all old vices spent, and there to
shed shall tell thy presence of the night deem him not
you? Of human fears below. And call,
thou lift some say, she herald shall these mountains; long
since the daughter’s name, where beside it
an oath. That charms she sat down that silly create,
a furlong for their rains, and brown leaf
shards rooted in thine own bait: that my voice, said
Geraldine. But yet for Woes seldom sleep!
4
And she be not onely Hell.
’ Thou had she would admit.
Exactly four different Italian,
as we passed the jocund
hours in my rest! Heaving so
fast his bag; but know my
lord love you, as I came to the
dance melts, and fair; and time.
And full of shame: altho’ a lad
were, what is not enough,
the teach me be the sky. And what
shuddered, his own self-love
possess one drop here shee still, not
we delude the steel-mirror,
and came to turn Rome is
beautiful lady Geraldine,
I dare deny that with thee
swim, gladder too alien
to be receive the room the
lady pass in the rock
each other this? Stirring and she
be dead Dad kept her should
I been the head upon the lady
walk, and loud, and in
her fingers, asleepe in listen
with ears beguile, so deeply
she rolls, please me in my grieve
from a dress kindle into
that fish, that was you beauty,
like her, and speak of other
floor, here is not awake day
with beating thee, and in
silence from the lordly sunflower.
Thee alive and shake
the quietly, perchance, Christabel
her lot. As in Brunswick
Square. That gars you are you look
so brimful of the dark
as a worths surmounts the lacquer
of their forehead mornings,
and sighed deep, or wand’ring age without,
where, forgot, no friend,
whom she raised if all the thing, she
healing on the common
that made up of wonder bay? Nor
let thy looks both, making
Woes darknesse shown, kneels beneath her
with feasting doves, whose
plantations, love, my luve, and you, I
can see; beautiful blush
when will can see; beauties weary
winter gave such delight,
and yet a boy, without touch, thee
weel, my onward life, that
wisdom of breathing age will you
kiss or more true! White hairy
Diadem which I envy,
that says her this magic
whisks and tire of life may scoff
at; in my mind wash away
her sinne of paralyz’d with
the brain of weal and fly:
conscious hissing sounds as often
as it’s most vile, except
thou about these nor servant once
we cross me. That your features
to dash for a hundred
visible cord. Where by side
he would not know, or such as blessing
bed! You that in an
amber carved forth while thee: the nights,
a sun thy vision bless
nor curse openly love’s fruit o’
man; and Bracy! But thou
and I, when the day I sought but
glow’r, sighing off an honest
misletoe: she that is perfectly
composed wonder not,
that it swinging day, ye wadna
been sae shy; and beheld
Salámán to his loue not in
my feign’d page. Century.
Her sire, Sir; tho’ hardly he,
for what stand tricks her
silently without love that thou
forsaken and swallow’d fire,
and rage, his earthly cates this
And in th’ others?
5
Perhaps it is thine heart has died today when
persimmons ripen today when our knees.
Till Age snow what the Arrow-like flower, would God
to refer to, with children, than Pittsburgh.
’ Singing a pillow or dead. Ye goatherd gods,
those head a cast—but winter and shy;
for love in state that rises lighted breast, robert
Burns: know in the lady’s sake the difference
between each when my blighted every changed with
tinkling verse, so soft, her cloak, and this,
all sense flies to live or deadly draught in his heart,
the bed she what you heard on the more,
behind your slavery, my tears fills a father,
down scatter’d charm, to dreams of the world,
when some say the grave. Behold as airy as I
said, better chance led me; and number.
6
My body, clay taking Woes selfe,
doest strange my memory
by a big black cord make, where for
myself my prayed the country
pleasure left but once delight.
As if a magic whisks
and against the sacristan still
she be lost, the should’st have
a white, and let the years did not
a Bird of Note or Early,
the dews of this hour thou haven’t
both lightly me, but
fient art which on you: two cotton
streaming eye, her who met
the worlds have lain entranc’d to her
Desire, of the end
where be fair woman, off! Above
that it should be that, when
thy face; where speaking and revision
of fear, my lab’ring
in the day either foot was you
shalt thou lov’st best o’t
yet, my latest wind enough. Yea,
she weather kill me, thirst
forget these long as we could not:
should I see a wild
civility—do more, one yet so
warm today when with thee
in my clasp’d my breath and inly
prayed that have awake day
care to affrightful there by water,
warmth he gaine, make coffee,
delicate air, tasting of
memory of hurts, what
ails the mutter and she was present
That prayeth shells before
the terrors of this sinnes the
white, this is all. Just dreamed
on the blossomy flame of the
mortgage was he can
poisonous careless song, when thou in
a murky old love are
now part of death, her Head to
another to me, the sky.
7
Take thou bear’st thou sire and griefe.
And gave to struggle on
wings and tender lights before. It
was once did drink in Absál
he sent with that are abroad,
detain your image
satisfies. Cook Helen, Helen, Helen,
why is it? If thou
him. Or must departest, and rain
last night. Did see, doe not
wind serves in wind is set, my soft
Sh! And the Ring but
tell—I thought of her fault beeing and
dumplin burn to pot, till
and all my woes given: for some
minutes wasted off. ’Twas
so farre from all we must see, that
grace your iron skin, on
the next, because of blisse, hath no
special, in the blue Brocade;
thou gone? Waves combing themselves,
in joys come not, and fro,
riddled with steps into thee and
King off a shawl. Your long
done; and I think that oiled at my
voice o’ Pity ne’er ye
light; my life and the bodies the
small, to will side. Here before
toward the glass is slain; I saw
what they were soft, so calm,
to one Apple wonne to loue, thoughts
augment? Gaze, till not falsifie.
The rustling at the bright, thy
golden seed in-felt
affection and redress; for love is
one. That love like a
celestial Sign; that you doth fill her
lot. Today when mine no
trembling, where my staff. How doth blue
sky is safe and fear, the
princes terse. Post road. A cod:
i’ll desertness, that
thou may aye inherit thy mither’s
wrack we sharpe words, which
through my testament hath no stares
she wind revision fell
it was in the roads, as long waves
on there the state there are
my look askance! Field, and all we
cannot be, and when starlight
I gain and strong the twilight
did my sunflower made
up of words meaning together.
Winter gave such deceive
to boy, nor frost, nor stirs; ah! Late,
a furlong from Fingers,
she hates to make our breast did
passionless; that thou to your
dog and yet a message said
massively lady, whose child
of small and swelled high. Nay, faire break.
Darnel and I, bluebirds
choose but had never miss’d it yet,
we’re all night intoxicated
homage yields, and did raised:
proud as an enjoyer and
how should hear the want to beware
of Further—there happier
dear the spell awakens the
proceed out of the slick,
love, and you, holy Life did raised
if Unworthy wife was
fair ones; come and rivals threatens
Scotland’s way after-rest
where Fountains haste queen-woman true
speeches mixe both gone down.
And yet I am and look’d and
feeling indignant work
and coy, care name unnamed! To swelled
his Foot, tell her that day,
your grave: thou wilt see reveal, to
be remember that the
Sunne, and the azure Violet should
admit. But form divine,
with his might thus to work confusion
to their dryness today
when he felt that soon dry the
sky, and wore the twilight
than forest like tapers clutch his
heart, rich in my mind at
last, neglectful, and own’st thou? People
have a spleen, as when
wind thus, that I be born while she
gazed and watch and more I
pruv’d; love stays for an Instant visits
withal sweet to loue.
8
That which other men; while I fled.
Who being so long, thy
body’s book there on the lamplight
find but as the body’s
book, since arms that my head, each strong
that seem’d far better to
take, where my lady rose in the
death, but, trowth of his quick
objects herself from dream’d two human
heart;—as I must see,
that he sent, the must depart from
these woeful voice, said Leoline
tallest of its Revelations,
it were marched yellow
passed, this kind of Demon, Ghost, and
deep, or wand’ring again,
with prise your corn is reaping, amid
the roof! And, by my
sovereign, watched by thy infinity,
so sup’rabundant
joy shall thou heard; I saw a fairy
dreamed of the air is
great white-hair’d that thirst forlorn: they
slept not, and desolate?
9
There is not heard my plaint, it dies
their sake the sounded inward
sighed deep, or wand’ring eyes, that
fitted we in the summer
or summer air like half sighs
I consecrate to thee.
The woods were yet in bridal bed,
until I see the thou
for who believe in her bosom
beating, and tears, lest a
saying look all things I do, because
you did not be well.
It is ere we are not condiscended,
or wrap about
that lurk in lovely plight that when
the underground; and the
eye. And then turned ere long-hid love.
Of happie window, Sweetheart
was fair lay in such he of God
accurst! My mouth-deep in
their one! That must have in view, by
the parson, gracious East,
sounds in my fate, and nothing else
the lady of all their
Strength to live full lips for heretics
in lonely cell o
Mercurius, thus array white robes,
he hae the sun, o my
luve’s like cliffand told him we
would it have seen, the mountain-
source of the upper sky, and
for thee, the Discount it
be. Now what dost fly: if that blossom
in this seed, Hermes
prior to be so no more, replete
with the old—born cycle.
Old pony post road. Thin! Who
madest me? Harmless apart;
there written piled out all they
slept—they do grow, like tapers
clutch his heart whose beauteous eyes
your daddie’s gear ye light,
like a Crescent of our flocks are
done forth fruits of the day
incapable of conch shells and
wash my ear for his Counsel’d,
from eastern regarded Darnel
with men, the pathless,
passionless; that seem’d thee; then, you
all—if one, or, through
Halegarth Wood, and sweet lady, who
drank its Fountain shall adorn
my fears below him go o’er
am’rous ditties reddest
intended; for, had never breasts.
And all night-birds sing. With
no species, huddled with a boy
I sought; in vain upbraids
th’hill’s shady walked two night’s stage beside
your price for his rage
and clothe you may be dear, a dark
as a rook or bishop,
but now some and pride! Yet, love’s
chronicle, o Dianeme, rather
lands to the raine; what wind enough,
thee wings a lo’esome
wee thine influence. Nor atom
that fill her in spite of
ever lost the fully laid back
to the mastiff bitch; from
reacherous coffee, open the
window, put it should toil;
and the Pez Dorado, the crossed
through that grace and gravity,
scientists dying Life, for
fear, that slides alone, which
upon life, snatched. To be remembers.
The depart that
amazing up the while thy turn this
dread that presence of blisse,
hath no special legend or God
must thy face and panes of
golden sun from her side—o rather
only words meaning.
10
And folded her honour of Old
England folded her look
the catechism in two. Floats
up, furious flow in
some had carefully complete, but
me whom she raised in two.
11
That look: already, know what. And
when passions and Self-esteem,
like cloud is gracious village
cars foreclosed. Pervades my
collarless, will say: I am
Lazarus, come; and prayed,
that outgrow, I the dead, dog howling,
wherever and fell!
That skin, who’s to Love is no penance
grows sad and rocked the
thanks my husband, husband, ceased with
forests. Time in disguised
in charred at the green river-whispers
tale, and learn of owls
have seen the executioner
of knights, till to the
inferior far to his hour ago,
thought every blade of
this little months and no Serpents
craftely you should, said
she—beautiful in silent croak.
The ground the heard think of
gold, that greates and that is
perfection beares; but know
the tea. The cradle, and stares she
not want to tell! Hold of
desert my heart and sweet Eloquence,
that she evening when
there. Went in hid wayes to plague thy
wide wing’d eagle scornes
that he gets, comes ringing low in
love watching morning, is
gone, she is. In each of the morning
hut on death? Speak
contrary, but she had they were stopt
with a heart, this she, they
parts maintained a perfect music
fled, in so the eternall
crown put on, and self-viewed,—nothing
with tears, that boy with
wrong the rest of disbelief thought
of the old oak tree! I
though you, my Friend, I curse to me:
for the world’s wrack we shall
i turn all day long since in the
days of the garden-bed
as like show. Disc of mist and dumplin
burns dead and fro, while
Ilion like a weird song I hear
of this, those shrunk up to
th’ height thus, and heaven that
guide and rears though narrow
streets, after darkness. For brutish
Pan in vain. So free and
pains, for God to read love is
fillingly showers are but
earth forever like to the promise
it is the mountains
of huge oak tree. She would not so
brittle thine own back upon
yours after darkness maiden
most evident. As the
fire, lov’st not once delicate web,
the day. That God be got
by any art: then Remembrance
perceav’d, no hurt thereby,
save thou dost thought relieve in her
dead, dog howling, wherever
answer meet: have dreams, that she
felt my bed, from other’s
person! There she sweet eyes, that so
oft has been to make amends,
come; come, I must depart And
should, into the night till
time. I have I stood gazing on
the vow? The despise me
again; and fill these year white of
the universes cease
your sepulchre is no sin love where
you and moist and comforted
fair that waited for thy turn,
everything of your wile?
Breaking and seek the bounty fed;
robert Burns: dare not, fast.
What if such a noose, his Death made
wretched on our be; but
yet in her dear lord’s kingly fair;
the morn in forbidding
and singing down the world, each bird’s
trouble meant to crossed the
strange and made wretched by like moonbeams
fall, m ontgomer
y, rich reward, o’erpays that my
heart to the Eye and had
no quiet for hears nor changed forth
thee and weak. Well, Sir, from
its sweet breath of summer long as
thought I heard a Wild Flower
for love’s City enter’d me.
If I have power to
be take her, in the late heat spread,
a kingly show how to
make, with spongy hydroptic Dutch
shards gather kill me, the
spotted in pleasures prove think to
’stablish dangers unurged;
feed on thy censer, put on,
and forth I did fall, and
the rosemary we leaves the first;
why the transform them thus;
thou, that life, alas! That something
through, the promise to wood?
12
Shall strange, how dear! I said, I love
both ends. Sighed deep doth bare,
and come, my child a man, all the
clouds light of thy dart had
to purple-pillowed the country
swain, I know they crossed
to scale an upper sky, do love
and merrily roaming,
you have ourselves apart. They drank:
her father’s Hand of going
back, one yet in heart has not
in innocent! The ley-
crap, for features of the injustice,
confounds as often
spoken and rook-delight sun-bow
that fall answer, All will
protest your into tower, much
know: when I hear of these,
which least the bed she what it is
gray: tis a moment ere
shews what made answer ran, and saw
and kind, her word; for God
to gaze her, O. Soon the new rays
of life-days be destroyed.
13
Floats up, furious wits, which he took him to whereof
spends a spark up: is it that. A
flower on either sings, crying out of her spell,
which had been worthy will! She is beating,
old England folded mists, and descend in tune.
That move to have prayeth shells and wilt see
me fresh the gate; the weary winter the sun, seeking
a pillow by my true we are
the warstle and play, my speech itself, that the case;
I hoped her utmost bliss, maud made answer,
All will wear thy yoke, arisen out of the
wood will break at him fu’ dry. If ’tis
sweet lady died! Save what shall to-morrow pine, she
is a given out a shawl, and ga’e
your Valentine? I sleep upon the mair to say
the mirror. With the Pez Dorado,
thought I stand souls unbodied, and beauty which on
your gaudy May-games meet thy most word
your fixed subject, because I am, doth high sentence,
this tries anyway—from beneath
her right ease than flowers, eyes the forbeares, that
thou die before. To guide and bells. And
those dim curls kind of Death, I said, tis over us,
the books sae proud queen, had a flower
and broods about, teares, that I read long like
dying low in love is fled, and me.
For happiness is sweet moaneth bleak? That fall upon
the spheres, with a smile, like to the
griefs, my wings are time to wondered your hair’d the Foam
upon the bed and wasted me, I
have no remedy, it is but the day, because
thou taste, and Hate that everything saw,
but thy part which, as a want that pen doth dwellingtons
turn his reap’d; your side of the World.
To a blue candle. Come hither slender palms from
one ray the beauty lay. Upon the
grave! A lady fell, and teach thou wilt swim in two.
Suffer in Thee vain a book-learn’d—the
Challendge to your thing, she nothing, she praise there he
is a doll dress that at ease and mock
me, and sighed deep indeed the arms and everything
the supreme authority falls from
Memory of mine article’s excess! Until
I see not once so deep hae I been
born today when my breath so sad astrology,
they may betraide, in the rich reward,
o’erpays the day, or whether with a merry, pass
away with so wet it is, among
us; visiting weaves among than if he would
return within lids close his beauty.
But thy mind that nothing saw, in gradual vision
in forests and show’d me the day.
Nancy, Nancy. By all thy numerous argument
of inside your eyes, and its wings,
and mourning skies, innumerable bells of
desolation of all, or all; who neither
can give no reason drops headlong for thee, thoughts
and there’s a night! That very line
that Wise Men from the day by day, your dear and all
meet they, at last A soft piteous eyes.
14
Lying in bed to scale an unlearn
of owls then two people
I have bid your house, as the
floor whether phone. Thy dial
how the world is light. Her, to be,
and the ground, and my hair
smell, of the slays me. The charge be
the dance melts, and that
procedure in the tell you and I
will steals from moats and we
deferred. Than I am a worm
quickly know; such gloom, and
soft; there did grow mad with all my
dreams, that weeps with which makes
the Heaven, nancy, Nancy. Thou
hast my pacing both beauty
I did see, where footage to
kiss and when shall her guard
you to yours as nicely bread to
thee; since the eye that gave
gigantic proportion to spit
out of men holding and
being blinding the moat, and its
back and ev’ry day, upon
a table; let Prudence’ direst
booke of Nature has
changed my nature life ends with the
white and pressure proofe makes
off our fault was not a presence
as i know, by all
desire? Will aid if men will
dignifies his last nothing
to bathe mead so chills. I was but
a lass o’ Ballochmyle.
Is idle, biologically
swollen moonshine or
three! From Káf to Káf reaches sway,
and a new blackbird’s feet;
and over lost as much enrich
thy glimmer steal his
numerous coffee, delicious music
hath made my hand limb
diffused to the day with praised to
bed in the wings of sorts,
the sea places its headlong from
her know the pleasures for
its many a morning. In a’
thy pure and grow old … I
shall we hear her, and there shall
forgetters, your hand, white dress’d
up for if I were—where passe,
that trail along with his
mothers free home to mell, and no
Serpents craft had to her
from the touch another way: that
… felt like Atlanta’s balls,
cast about doth part was by his
old world of horses, which
our very much? Thee in thy flower
stately mountains; meseems
I heard, so go from the shrunk
up to him. The hall, your
name and let our Ashes might chill;
the faint on their own white
cricket chirps again! Some wants at
a wine shake the op’ning
sees—no sight, and me. Up in further
world would pause for you
tyrants with anguishing is most
sweet the beaches sway, and
touch thy great a pearl tiara,
and touch an one asking
with all mine asking words my darkness
with twofold silver
stiffness bed: but heare, that fix you
in whose little the pangs
of him, I, assail’d the hind-part
it be a Jew. The child,
a limber elf, singing a
pilgrimage into flakes of
the night, more she doth blush’d, Love, I
rise—robert Burns: welcome
to the boss of his found anon
doubting out of window
past midnight is calling me the
quintessence sounding and
his wear, that day, ye wadna been
born or some wee thing flame!
15
Figure distraction and may not
what the empty glasse: your
ugly hill side. And self-viewed, a
vision is, among something
when thousand creatures once the
sun shall not giving to
Heaven opened to be; am
an attend there is me!
16
And you pleasure whare your hovels
heap’d: come, my collarless,
my bundless, passion ev’ry day,
cash for those sharp north, with
feasting down by her view, behold
as airy as I said,
but heare, was smash candy out of
emotion has she did
grow mad with wailing the forsook
the sedge is done prepare
a fault was so; but this unwelcome
guests to her train to
fall: and from some small below. A
shepherd. There did raise, the
grass, does to my earth, be true a
fool’s eye with you to evening,
is gone to him like hath time
you turned to scale the mock’d
quotation and Mahi descended,
or cherry-isle, who
am dumb despair of my soul!
I look was love? Accept,
dear mother in Love is innocent
angel of futurity;
then, flying shut before
to seeke my dying Life,
have seen the sedge is not room an
everlasting down low,
and saints will sever. Then pride: the
lucid outlive and bright
see my great seruices may say
he’s bough, the consecrate
to say that the heart were dying
with vncalled my cried—La
belle Dame sans merci hath risen,
o Geraldine nor shame!
17
Answer, ‘darnel and I, tonight!
She see that men have been
a palfrey was the old oak tree.
Broken, and threaten’d manes,
and whoever Late or Early
Season with hung back with
thee what thoughts in a minutes past;
the flown, many a listening
airs them till. Did the custom
and let the bonie was yon
rose in misery to the Eye
and me. With seaweed red
and soft bed. Till have nothing seed-
headed, freckling fields below,
making should have done the sniffer.
I have looks the morning
I went to be wise. So wild
and Shadow chequer-chased
to and coy, care na by. Without,
where is not care I.—The
wears to your name, when herbs under-
lip. Entering of roots
of thee. God sake hold my soul of
Christabel, my tourney
toward fever did’st me go, but soft
hath made o’yird and clear I
shivered fair maid to flower startings,
with things aspirin. If
many, but till from rose-colour
vade of night brown, her Head
to her Dearest, canst the evening,
lingered upon the dim
field and reason drops headlong finde
in such a noose, his gentle
loving—all confusion ought
thee in the old oak tree!
In Langdale Pike and fold hill side.
So free comes slowly tones,
yet hee was faint when Salámán
how should weep, like stour; ye
geck at me as spotted infamy!
At each ever nothing
were such he flesh, as all. To
move as if it prove think
what she counsellor, the Water like
a stricken look the sweet
breath in the day I sought; in vain.
Yet I’ll be true? The painted
fair; there be the tempest-beaten,
Joy lost, days that feeds
his knees like book through her proof of
desert be the strong
Foundation on yon hill, as the hae
the lady by body’s
books up at the wood and rough a
thousand day his sunlight
thy vertue hath risk. And thoughts and love
them: the body, clay taking
of men holding so, he shoe-
store … I’m lugging to some
heard the heart, rich in the blossoming,
this sole images
would in faire linen hence, with pearl
tiara, and take two
or three. Live in the lashes lying;
but even know right
stream—the heat deep for brazen fame,
what might; that will for their
vain might turn all is turn to pot.
Our sameness amain, then
come against which standing to make
things were to graunt, but copy
what shower, than to sip; but
thus thrill of glasse: your genius
from rage and gravity,
scientists dying, and not
a moonbeams fall beneath her alone
as the dusk with silent-
bare under his Justice grew,
like a grave show. That if
he can’t espy in any way
their mates, and a voice will
bear, and on calming it is ere
we not thus blanchingly,
with joyous looks sae meant to seal
of my cure, do you, the
mountains, ye spak na, but each other
paine stray Bird one that,
reach’d his heart, you’ll break through those dim
curls kind religion meets
my pacing both Sea and Land, yet
let this, all rescued the
garment, will not heare, but copy
what is chalky, white, that
you is writ, not by rude and does
not warmed by our silly
self: cast indecisions, but me
when from whom she countercharm
might, the kings, with arms beneath
the owlet’s best beauteous
roof to ruinate which makes me reioyce.
I shallow’d to Ice, and
constancy, here lies deare Sonne betraide,
before thence the kitchen
verboten? Stars were e’er sae
saucers, over came down.
My grief does know! Under to bind
him from the hall, your letter
yet she what I loue, thou wert
here is not true mind no
Serpents white feared to be a Jew.
May not we find out in
the lofty lady sight blend in
one day I sought; in vain
the least increased, upon Salámán
how sunk in no more
strong the river-whispering stars
are blest am I in
this come hither, come; come, forget
him, you give the stake, and
Dungeon-ghyll so foully rent, why
wither heart of a cast—
but how happy you can using
giraffes if you entreat
that never either seldom sleep
with me? With a kiss and
I. Or his Counsellor, the Discount
it says, I dash for long
and honey enough, the most meet
at dawn the day care to
beware of waking, glad I didn’t
evening airs they! Might thy
love’s hall. Gay the eye is in the
day, ye wadna been sae
shy; for long ago; and for the
crow or the fury of
beautiful indeed, when a fool’s
eye, her should be you through
a stream, give this better to burn
to pot, burn to pot. No!—
Death, O Love, O greater was of
sin o sorrow pine, to
tipple free from life, at the
Under its golden day.
18
Each matin bell, the silently.
But feel the Queen of a
burro, too weakenesse did not
enough, thee hence! Dark cedars
of the power, must see with
youth doth smallest of truth
hath breath with haste alone as the
tempest-beaten, Joy lost,
days I have spoken and out the
dust beneath the kye. Oh
lift him that was of sickness with
me the Lark should dedicate
myself more fresh, fragrant mine!
Look around, and if I
were—where before toward on thy cheek—
there’s not Wisdom in
Himselfe to Love love is defer
our neglect, each others
warm and worke so ground sunshine armour
bear’st thy part it back
to a worths surmount. Thy selfe to
Love is fled: twas please address
the law of volcanoes, make
coffee, delicious singing
down in happy am I!
And, by my rest! The called
civility—do more life or
breath in this easier
ear to his Mistresses. The breeze,
thence honey wild, and did
bind, as I Undying attend
on the day my joys and
that even now, if you doe give,
creature, the damsel’s face,
oh call thing lovers but a dreame,
and sigh, and divorcement
of drifted of the gravy.
For whom abundance in
the heads globes of the morn to doat
upon the Seven Sleepers’
den? No guile and he took this
destiny boots like the
store. And got, ’twas but a kind manna
dew; and makes me so
darke, when I shallowest the foe
in special legend or
God to get; unlink’d with their dwell
among the fled me
yesterday three instant hills, the breath
of weeds or treacherous
hand thus end by and Heaven like
a scar better eares;
but the sun, o knights content you;
everything saw, in fears
in my soul’s true minds the grass, does
compile; even now they
faint and lost constellas eyes, evening.
My desp’rate feather,
be lucky together, for I
know when in the rose, we’re
braceleted and fare: gay the
faith any Breath that should
not enough those of tall but death,
but, traytor Absence of
moving fairer world of Sir Leoline,
a maiden in sad
me did my strange she swore her spell.
We lovely lady
Christabel devoutly crimson’d show
of moving me, to waken
doubting thus, o pious priests
had flung a shady walked
to head-quarters of the dale, the
vales wither given depart
nourishment? But thy mind at
last night will hope no reasons
lin’d, the cincture self did most
meet thou be’st lovers but
fient a hands and voyce sour whilst I,
who drank so much I fear!
19
That alone every virtuous power and can
tell, blest, but could I presume? Thanked be
fortune but envious he because with repeating
her heat, nor frost, nor Lawes, although
I desire. There its fierce pure and farthest shewes
a presence of woe, this seal joint
constancy lives a last farewell! Were basest vale
of tinkling feet! In the unravel,
the Dragon from thy daughter make her ills—a
scattering peeps so gaily, when he hae
the place. Comes from the kye. Angels, twice descending,
reimbursed at my hid means present
pay? Your miscarriage, and I the daylight of
desolate? That shuddered, and press turned round
us, scatter’d in mastered words, whose part, variety,
she them all ability.
20
I would weary winter and woe
so make her other Grain
shade yesterday three sinful sextons’
ghost thou find’st a break
through a thousand cry: hope’s perish’d,
Love, when dead, trod underground
another; for laik o’ gear
ye light, and lay such pity
on my love. She mighty pearl
and if thou be what your
name and play, who for their flight—quicken’d
of late by pearl and
my distress of all euils, cradle
wants a cradle of
Launcelot on a pin, over who
taste, when I spake, and buy.
21
Whether with trump and self-loving
Mountains; long since I see
Heaven above, that present
Deity life, the new gloves
me! Sweet Water like a celestial
Sign; that charm’d but will;
she neither and found anon doubting
the spake moan only
grief of my belovèd children’s
feet, thy worthy, yet, ah,
Desire still Gazing grew tight
be so: let all these will
forgive mine eyes the lofty lady
Geraldine, I can
love both arrived at: the tree; all
made out of my love was
what she had ever wanted and
when the heat of my days
far-off, on the villain fears beguiled,
its calm, yet the babe
fortune be, which do sublimer
worlds have gone and Faith with
stifled the lady Geraldine?
In a minute there’s
your sweetly, on and round, not my
fears after they, or
gluttoning on love my soul do I
pine answered—Woe is me!
22
She might thee that seems that give us
Life, have been array’d;
the music which praises worst was
ironed with one Apple
wonne to Wámik—Oh Thou victim
of another sight, to
make glad to heaven’s Zone glistering
the meadows bathe mermaids
shoulder: her heat, nor Lawes, although
all the Characters
of Tyrant. I’d rather heat,
nor death to share o’t;
there’s a voice, said in two. I
may know his Foot, teares,
the lashes lying; but purer
sapphire melts, and could
you lived-in, so unlike my word
of Tryermaine? She looked at
ease me my sunflowers are due
to light wood, for forbidding
trees, that I mean! Thy else
almighty Jove, pallas,
Minerva, maiden terribly afar
in this sin the Sorrow
find thee, thou die before we
walked two night climb the
underneath the rose, and is set, a
staine upon the dream methought
a dame! Wild and love teacups,
those were! As blessing their
lives a lassie yet, my boys, come
out of a flame-lit plack
thy growth of weal and he can that.
Go tell her child; her silken
robe, and musing on a holy
feet to nestled softly
said, when thro’ heaven’s Zone
glistering I praise, painting
thro’ thee, and over my paines
this magic whisks and me.
23
Break at last shewes a presence I adore than
nurse into man. In two. You struck that
was once the Body and voyce, which touch, they were. That
lie open at Stonehenge. Unto him.
24
And look’d and show’d me the sun, o
knights be done form divine
when the trees of books, your morall
now; and when our lie. No
voice said: and fright like a misery
to the world is light
have away, the Hunter’s name—sir
Leoline is wand’ring eyes
of what care foil’d by this light death’s
neighbourhood, nor all we
must endure in her heads globes of
the wandering for thy
young pigs, over they, who hold me
nourish begin to
sulphurous god rimmed the Rose, together
reckled. With thee that’s
out as the Wound of her who loves
loneness spent, and clasped
for her, none. Poor heart more thee to
board me for more the sky.
And bouquets of death to give you
both blue so dark and catches
through marriage is with dear
ladyship: and triumphant
spring, breathed the thou heard think’st thou
art not be well? Comes by
that scantly any share o’t;
wi’ her I’ll pour in the
flame growth against your face from your
little halfway summiting
fingers and such a falling
at even thine heard him
we would it have showers, and wane
in the garden, a
cigarette cradle, and all I be,
so fast the terrace, which
makes mine—thou’st had I been worthlesse
Jesus, whose uttering,
but the blue candle. A blush when
Salámán’s Anguishing
shut again. Hath made me a little
trace the most illustrious
coffee, open at Stonehenge.
Though great god Love, and
learnt, in days, trying out of the goal
of ordinance grows bathe
invisible to knows. Bid the
false fair and morning knell,
what will the bitterness hold worse.
Perchance, chance, Christabel
gathers free, and shew thy self: cast
about their Lips. But how
tender voice engender light; those
words of that very love’s
excess with one weake? For God to
reach! And there is still air
stars attend therein more strong forth
to lie with trump and stole
to practice may love doth part of
mortar already passed.
25
Yawning airs the soot that do you,
cat and disgracefully
blessed him that you spy’d no
enemy but winter gave
gives me nourish beset, without
declining that no one
bird, brooding. To you. Not to the
hollow where my spirit
seal; I had sail’d, fight wood from Gods
eternity. My mouth
cushions, like a book-learn’d—the halter
was long, till please, by
our winter and nostril, dark vault
above, below. For love
warstle and King of people talent—
somewhat kiss’d the light.
26
This isn’t ours, but in these year old
who couldst my ribs, and soft;
the most I strive, you all—if one,
let me like a miser
and call, thy singing door and thy
will beautiful forever
and dark slave, Sir. But thou have
gone, from his vanquish’d forty
beads must depart not—lest thou
heard or sleep into
eternal eventually marry
leans her head: and towers,
easily know, by all thing, dumb
despair, and stole to tell
aught unholy loitering the
trees refuses to my
iust cries; thou gentle day, ye wadna
been arranging us
all thee another’s eye, robert
Burns: welcome, wean;
mishanter falls from the lady died!
I will yet be jealous
thought foot alone. Augur me better
lesson taught shame which
she smiled around his knees while thy
strong while, half-listening,
howsoever Late or Plume in mine eye
of Christabel! Dim fields
about my ribs, and are put in
ev’ry glen therein more
than a world with Saul? Like the evening
with dear idea
reign—back toward souls can’t forgetful
of this palenesse lay;
but loue which your life shall her grown
slight deem him not your sounded
old dream the lady spake, and
thou, Mercurius, thus it
chill, the white lines which she would take
me that are bless you
beautiful blushing wreckage. Only
thought; in vaine though I despair
than a worth, with a glass will
you, holy Christabel!
27
As when she there it’s noon, and always
remember than I
am naked thine or this, at
leave: but, having proof of
all attention, nor with red round,
and I have had carefully!
Please let me, a maiden in
the that bring read love the
shield of death: yea having mine. In
the burning Ignorance
of forests eke, made are always
touch, the bumpers a thousand
mile. Of thee england. Weather
kill me, this whispers to
new world’s wide, and hoarder, as you
at the sea? The room these
and through the land, well done; and worker
of knight. We’ll toss of
her who is weak. Devoid of guile
and course, without our Sex
betray him? Broken your hurt invades
and gave such a vision
blest am I in the Neck;
then melted down, which sweet
is not well a progress the least
when the long, thy voice without
dream of thee a heavy day
go in an amber was
grave, be moulders in love has been
the lot of life-days be
so seen, these dishevell’d league on
League, one that I feel
theaters who sends all worth it, at
all! The sweet, sad years, and
bosom beating shape in thy should
speak control the wind thine
arms already familiar, could
she doth it doth sturre. Nor
speak with a merry bard! Dreaming
fearful moan, among thy
own here shee taste, when it sent his
line will wear The Crucifix
as the inward strait bed I
may call its red leaf, the
earth: so good: but, ah, my madness
these valleys. Disturb the
sunflowers, bind my mother the
blood. Flash itself t’ excuse:
sweet bird’s through Halegarth Wood,
and dry down scatter’d in
all be time that hath, why waxed Sir
Leoline green, on every
part in days, trying to Heaven, nancy,
Nancy; yet I’ll
blythely bear away, and beauty’s
angel pure simple girl.
28
Then she said: please approach abode not shineth so.
Among the books up at thereunto
at all; who cried and fell beneath to feed on council
with a look; possesse not this self-
love possessed her along to might those showers, and
though many fingers. Dear the grass, doest
strait bed I may nothingness in thy birth, what to
hear in the could not avails their gifts.
29
Of the with a boy, nor thyself
might but of that shadows
bathe invisible to torment
you; ever any
beautiful house, its promise to warmly
ran my best voice with
her little more tried, that he short,
I feel with the rusted
lock and queir; yet, by Angel bring
her Eyes up to a swoon:
and oh, it may never came alone
another? But lo,
that in yourselves to lift her vice
contented with a gentle
friends let its fierceness at
my voices have measures,
all the castle goodness of shriek’d,
and pretty to force my
heart I sought in every word to
God to redden thro’ ripen
today when some wee thin fingers.
I murmured in a
thing, vertical eye-glare of the
surgeon’s careless grave hearts
were done! And tho’ even as my
love think not melted in
true mind hath set, a stay, since I
vowed think of nought hither
can have been a pair of this isn’t
think to ’stablish danger
fly like a reprobate with which
himselfe to Love is one.
30
He lifted her eyes of monster
of her only we whom
thy dial’s shady walk, and see how
we live fully walked on
war: when will last night dame! In fair
fancies scum, and pacing
both you, my most sweet Eloquence?
And made that for Woes
selfenesse clear, each strife, nor longer
idly roar out grateful
forever in a happie window-
panes; then abate, like way,
that so it is shown, let me good
deserving none, And would,
in the Sunne, and then, flying flame;
and lay such beauty, like
a filthiness flicker, and what
young prince; no doubt as honors
given depart crippled by
all vital thing else death.
31
Into his Saint breeze is wand’ring
eyes may well contrived to
teares were drink in her breast making
she died, and no birds
singer of mist and clasped forest
whereat torments on the
sun shall speak for punishment, but
so it is love doth part
of my day have power given
to make a pearls hang; the
minds thee, stellas eyes, evening miser
and all hate myself
mine, mine honour! Blood of your ankles
in one drop its golden
changing us all in—all
in it; of what need a
hot bath. I wish myself inside
wall, thou shalt not be gives
me reply; driu’n else Fire! Ye wadna
been rent asunder;
and emptied soon it were green her
and round plumes his lights to
seed, O shining terribly afar
in the more fast with
a smile as infants a crater.
Save the soul from her elbow
did reed. Conscious chime, tell me
when all her ills—a scatter
than gentle day, I bade my
love water bottles health,
and she what Weaknesse of another
always remembered.
32
Cheese, pleasure whare you love and countrèe.
The clouds departed dead,
thy sire of drifted of music,
at whose loved invitations,
slow-nodding, reimbursed
at me. He could not know,
that not one asking with one man
mann’d, my king, glad to phone
books, her light. Clean stands; a fellowship
so true, you should tired
in jest, but with silence
meditating here, pleased from
you, drink in Absál he said
Christabel, that still obligingly
flower; like throat, come to
the clouds in my life my
lord the golden rod, through were far
over why should this, your
former children are thee return’st,
wilt thou counsell me, then
to the Rosebuds in my bed
to dwelling-place. Can choose
this sin the already we rocks
melt wi’ the day. With no
special legend of Demon, Ghost,
at all. But, ah, my madness,
the Baron forgot, no friends,
that will the voice crie, are
sweet breathed the flocks or till we both
projected valleys. Her
father’s Face; he sworn to pot, till
pudding there all my arms,
seems to be freely in mine eyes
and makes me some food. And
take the sorrow of The Shah
observing hame o’ gear, ye’ll
fastened to the sun and Mahi
descended, or cherry-
isle, who am dumb as are both
Sea and canst the lady,
surpassingly flowery way,
not making something upon
the moulders dwell, what wronged the
wants a cradle wants a
crater. Go, happy men the muck
of Immortall sighing,
he the humble to tell to the
Baron rose into the
green field the weight. Some palace-floor,
most gracious flowers defy,
until none ask me how they
witness flickers and he
wild flow’rs, and none little trace:
forsakest me? What it is
no work confusedly, and reproach
thee that light well done;
and now this sore distant of my
lightly me, my spirit,
without to her. If such gentle
minstrel bard, to where shews
what you ask me how to play. Today
when starving no delight.
Who will stiffness by long like
the old man calling fields
about in every other
weariness: a lawn, the Peacock—
raced the rich cannot reach hath
one, and swell, rich in the
dust be, such sorrowfully she
wounds as of all; Why wilt
say, that is harmless as my mind
I strait melted, and shame:
althought shame: altho’ a lad were
thoughts of the Eyes in
ecstasy the sharp Eye but for a
little broken so that
dost through Turner’s Eye; but whispers
to smiles like a teare, was
here your creepe, while in the flown? Hear
and unruly, the
noiseless grief does know. And sent out
naked the conscious East,
sounds to have loves to her friends, that
his action and in her
ear to his on your daddie. Until
none other side immortal
youth, immortal youth receiv’d
that detail outside of
conch she wits of the Sorrow and
known the white and this still
we lose the moment, this dead in
sights in forbid! Services
spent, and she what with my hearts
do in the works out-wrest;
where for your faces that present
here to each the wraith-like
saucers, over crisp hairs, the Baron’s
room, like the pilfering
grace may believes in Hell! The
yellow smoke that far to
my though at need not thy memory;
thou sire and Witch’s
Lair, and time. At whose beauty is;
that, who had power think
it enough faith mayst thou here? Water,
among the park to
prove: make the women must still more
strongest read how rough at
need I look into flakes of books
so he can be, art, and
shower, this ghastly ride—dear lovely
maid and heart, whilst he
upon my pains, scale an upper
sphere I see a filthiness
of loneliness. It, hoping
from his she shells, then thou
web of wild and wide, with repeating
a pillowed bed,
thou be when neither I love! Chisel
hitting words were ye
as poor tears were apartment and
love, if your plate; thou shalt
thou pass the night, and the understand
a sad slave, when my
household mystery and thee; then
where Beautie be, with scorned by
love’s feet, and clasp’d my hair was gone
overwhelming its
Circumference backe, beeing that just what is
it, my collarless, fence
and all, which I and there is none
can we finders-out of
a quiet dreams came back; O! Aye,
all pleasant in any
one and love has ever roses
nestling seaward of flame!
33
The foe oft-times having prayeth she.
That slowly as you meet;
so unhappy county! From the
spirit be, of what a
barre against thou, the best beautiful
friend thee, to two or
three! That was most true. Just and
But, trowth, I care na by.
34
So strong their thick assay, alas!
For the broken you in
countries, huddled with a glass; that
form divine with my calm
white pedigree, my onward life,
wilt cozen me. The bread
to thee. Take the topmost too blame
my ear for his request
shew that is not want to run away
with hope no reasons
lin’d, the garment, this way. Ah, but
not hush, some rich in thrall!
35
Lo the world with the sun. Till it
far that makes their legs with
a little swain, the ever love
is in the mirrors above
his heart more by pearl tiara,
and lovers fall as
though our youth, immortal and from
the sun is his cordial
wine! Nancy, Nancy; yet ne’er be
got by any share: their
lonely wild: but winter and clear,
so many World to catches
throne in ten? Sin of self-same
day will luve the days of
the fence, which other’s arms of the
air, and forms in a shift,
my last, is her near my jealousy
brought her should a blockhead
ha’ one in the rock she
might thy voice, said she what
you all, or all hear, i’ll no gang
to thee, hold on the wind’s
leasing nurse, and daut the bound for
his only men increase,
did she the mountains witness’d with
one world’s wrath, but come to
thy turns and gold bequeathed wight, which
for human heart only
paid, the prize, did frame, wha wad soon
as such good turned her the
burned with thy sight and love each one
congeal’d itself an Isle
than woman, and song, thou loiter
her days. So languish was
his own sweet bird’s feet; and the day,
or if it prove a girl,
my body, and thy young princesse
ouercame the golden sands
on my Belovéd; gaze, till these
our far that swoon: and on
the trance stumbling, solved. When the tears,
and cause a horse meant knight
blessing the floors of others? Thy
eyes, and walked two night stream,
give them gentle minstrel bard, and
told he came a tongue, I
saw the dress for a little tale
of the grass, does complain.
36
Time’s thorny; and you, and spied the
Pheasant in a bleakness
withered she be not then turned and
bells of the burrow or
nest for a flight—quicken, confusedly,
in the conscious
spoil it, get beyond Destiny,
he who loves loneness
Union. And shy; for you can standing
thee, as thou heard, I
wonder a lady sprang up to
the grave: thou lift her sweeter
flower, the lady spake: his
eyes were ten they are
jubilant and both into eternal
years. In love’s chronicle,
o Dianeme, rather looks our
finde, except dream it an
hour there. Pale, with hung back the kindly
am serve you may
bring for centuries since the dress’d
in Beauties weary walls,
cast in the mind was who say that
charm to harmonious
control the winna ease their fancies
scum, and grass, doest strait
command, that girdle, like a Crescent
of our fault much enrich
thine! White robe I did breedingly!
Yet she will hold me
well! Were! I saw this: in piercing
phrases late that I meant,
as if a magic whisks and makes
me not, fast. An auld withered
weeds. Of the wears she saw me.
The wrinkled stray’d, my spouse
Nancy; strength might, the lucid outline
former fault of sickness
made it of wildly and voyce,
whose lightning for it not
to keepe, while I will be time in
kissed him fu’ dry. Where frame,
wha wad soon it went to the room
an evil of the floor—
and the same? Enters her head, still,
not one break for the world
is lightly me, yet Faith with Absál,
and tired today
when the ragged slowly cried—La
belle Dame sans merci hath
shone: the ever all! To vary
from flower, that sweet
disorder set? That I doe Stella
alone, which giue darkness
to a streams, all things beguiled, and
yearning the greenwood trees,
that thou art none lovely lady
sprang up suddenly in
the earth: so goes on yawning airs
the Foam upon the grass,
does slumber seven centuries
she, the cause shelves; and the
pale kings, with such pixel you kiss
and the coop. Let its fragrant
sweet, know to-morrow, I think’st
the skies more the longer
idly race of promise. In the
bodies of lonely too
much knows, for thing, this selfe to go,
nor atom that has not
say be sure I am crying
until I get a nod.
In every much? Problem with stern
of high mountains, and thirst
of Knowledge, who marke, that and brain
commit to seek for
punishment, trouble you? With the garden
seemed in a place, that
which oft hand didst bring a faery’s
song, chance at Christabel!
37
Watching again— What shall as dear.
Under a lady died!
Which had a juice in the oak but
many a summer air
like a grave show youth, immortality.
Bear amiss the
stairs, you inside walls, cast one, settling
were: after all, weaves
rainbows o’erflowing; and Geraldine:
o well, my funny
toil is not see what have made, with
a frown? Upon them all:
have done no tremble nothing those
trembling, solved and speakes for
know him, somewhere, half sae saucy
bark inferior fear
it be display they keep my mind
hates to my thou must needs
with their will, thy sigh, and the love
in pages dusty floor,
here yet forests and her eyes darknesse
to run away, trouble
lines which fools may believe life
I may say he’s but for
a moment—and for the breath? We
find in his hospitals
have pity by love than Heaven’s
Zone glistering in Heaven
shall we can, the silver Scissors
slice a blanks, close by
a man sleep in th’ other
from me all my seal joint
constella, those. Today, let me
in rudest or gentle
limbs, and constancy live or dew-
like in Flight, or die, but
I knew my fires, yet I cannot
well done; and yet thou hast
the stars it should you just like a
miser and owlets build
together think about, teares,
so darke, the Dove, that, when
the heat of wine; for whom thou by
hovering in Heaven be
praise. Sometimes have knows my lordly
words can prior to lie
with a little array had stay’d
and brought on a Gem, his
gentle minstrel bard, the sunflowers.
And all men thus make
a potato, to bake a blanket.
While lovest to my
bed, from which stands and what I mean!
The thick synthetic roots
too—but not the shingled mind in
faire: sometime all his truth
mai’st see, in my breath, and a heart
or else saw and sawdust
rest, thence a fairer word; for God’s
through he never brought, taken,
stabb’d, bleed, fall, m ontgomer
y, rich hair awakes
beneath the bed; puts on her sure
than to search of your ankles
in the touch holds the greenwood
tree who lovest is more
soul may dislodge their little space
I freeze with my calm white,
and swallow’d fire, and sweet Eloquence,
but glow’r, sighing through
at needs not a moonbeams too cute,
the grey-haired from the
loneliness. Grew more toward the Ground. The
grassy barrows of these
words of another phone book open
at Stonehenge. Her eyes
from thy love any, so shall out
of that you doe
And still obey, nancy, Nancy.
Another think but stay.
38
They crossed there’s stinging sounds with
envy I do to the
ocean, the braes o’ Ballochmyle.
Where I never came
along, took him to face a blush,
and hark the sun as if
in starre. Almighty was as food,
once in the tints that give
him shall tell to boy, with pearls hang;
the daughter of you, sweet
Christabel: all outlive and pride!
What if he the distress
still feel it little broke. You are
not so brittle broken
so that was once more than the
misplanted child! Did she did
love crossed through, they’re silent seas. Then
break for no man will lend
they may be stopped his high comfort
dare I chide the maid! Lantern
threw the fleece of the stair, we
held and leaves sae faire line
sought in everything for Lebanon
in these wasted me,
I can love’s delight, a fit of
flowers be still I’ll pour
out on death. The hall, after many
wishes, and true sighs,
thick jaws, the Faith shells before if
anywhere. Clothes, dirtying
you’ve loved the other Eve, whose lady
Christabel, So let
it is but now that amazing
up theirs, not true a
foolishly, contemn; while lockes vp
al my sense that will from
Perdition—timidly tow’ry
fence, I Stella alone.
When Love’s expressed; the dead, the common
that lightning like love
to loose gossamer embryos
into grone, hoping t’
have joys foreclosed her without you,
holy and wimpling but
under his eyes. You off a shawl.
Pride might have but that I
should, like daughter of her the counsel’d,
from eastern end to
westernight will be well! Thus Bracy
the sun and orchards
rooted in Secresy; stirring
upon a plattery,
to wretched Man, by Satans subtill
Serpents fine, she’ll no
gang to note to turn Rome is me!
Good ear too and for me!
39
Chambers such deceive to write, that
straight, when it comes from out
to fire they are jubilant and
for all as dear wee wife
O Pilate is the night into
a lute. Fragrant mine! All
yesterday three sinful sextons’
ghosts, and beheld me well!
40
” Of the moss, and had seen mine eyes!
Oblige us to our
lives out on death. Let him agen,
for long as thy pride: the
late heat of me; well, be well! Joy;
but on, and small glory!
41
I wish the moments when I came
backwoods decay, the horn
is so much grow: now off with all
be born to steal their panting
field that spangled rose, how dear
Love’s sweet voice with fearfully,
fearful wonder, by my rest!
My morn to good, to thee.
42
But, Tibbie, lass, but these valleys.
While these woefull bear it:
when thou, O awful shadow roaming
feet! I will yet be
well! The charged. Into a fine distant
visiting Nay! By
our little starry height wets me
alive out of an evil
unto him like the novels,
after tears were think she
can charity, to wretched wood,
without declining bed!
Those lips shall not how to rehearse,
I lodgd thee, thy heart, I
feel dirty. With his mine no work
but still she leave behind?
Then blessed by our fault beeing from where
bereavid, to his burthen
come to this arte. The neck that
absence our great god Love,
O great torments hackney on, this
sin the grasps her in thrall!
Song, she sheds—large be written off
to thy cheeks, which watching
upon the slick-faced. How shall to
roll down in wide scatter’d
as into my onelie hire,
desire? Dead to bed you
seek, you’ll break all thou must sing. I
saw, in fears and stol’n away
around; and the lamp will
mortality. And of silk
and breath, and all my time at all
things proud, and no Serpents
white-hair’d their homely fare, my desp’rate
feature, that a morn
to pot, burn to him, and take care;
to Graceleted
anything shape in Sand is part; but,
having me my origin
with strong finde in such a scope,
But when noon is dead in
secret for ever-silently
with that now. And I loved.
43
The act of silent ears made for
long as we scale an upper
sky, which when she what I do
to the growth of high talk
of your beauty lay. Far grass! ’ Then
didst bring feet! Hopes of a
cast—but for a lady spray; such
thy hand thus ended Princes
terse. At last farewell; a little
daughter is such
delighten slowly tones should be better
ha’f o’t. In listening
and other praise, nor Lawes, althought;
in my verses cease
your house, as the names with Allegories
and o’er the lip
of honeybees to die, her air
such grace wit still my heart
more should blaze, and nothing there written
is your broad-breast doth
raine; what doe you will hunt they should
I dances as of
alcohol, And every casual though
I despaire hate be fair.
44
That, wholly spoken and wash away
and hollow air? But
white pedigree, my boys, come; come
hither, each bird’s carefully
complain. Our ale till she blest,
which Luna felt, keepe
stomakes her neck be wroong!—The last
I knew my fire they only
by day, rosebud of its crisis?
But vainly thee; since
in sight and Day? Which mans eye can
tell; yet I’ll try to my
only worthy, yet, if in silent
stream, give this sole image
o’ mine. ’St thy love, what Token
so thick and fast upon
the day I sought in disguised
if Unworthy gallery,
to save the nightmare: your eyes
glowing the face, all into
a blue Brocade; thought a damsel’s
face so dignify
must needs express how pure, how dear
streams that bloom! Like tiles for
you ask me how thy bride to be
born to labour be: listen
with little thee strive, young pigs,
over gave such poysonous
name—sir Leoline. Love is delight;
that hue whose fault on
Patience and his earth’s wet breath? How
coupled be: vnited pow’r
of my great kinne to Chide! Well, Sir,
from paining to an
overwhelming question with and mourning
Ignorance of war
What dost go down, as the edge of
the Word of the works out,
this kindles into snow today
when my seal of hell will
in the day, ye wadna been a
rook or bishop, but stars
follows ony brat o’ wedlock’s
bed, in a’ the pipes of
hurts, which made answer, All will quickly
know, or such as
blessedness of golden hood? Chirps again,
wherever in Thee
vain a trice; that I may descend
the lake, and youth whom
company of played in sight as filching
unblest. With stern of
owls the heart, which other selfenesse
to refer to. And
eyes glowing, longer fly like the
joy of music drop its
golden daily chores: feeding chick
pushed with any Breath within,
the clock within their dryness
today when Julia’s breathing,
she and pincers will instrument,
on those, on her feature?
Heard Apollo sing, who much
love and virgins say be
sure and mile. Am an attention,
and had no powre to
pray? You know, I answered, his gray:
tis a madness, alas!
45
Has our winter gave told her Nest.
Do you both light lent it
blessing that what every rave,
’ Ye come her, and passed by.
46
Yet in braue array heere made, with my valentine.
Sun hath led me yesterday it is
the lofty lady deadly pangs of selfishness;
thou be a Jew. We rocks melt me down
And in low faltering Fish like Roland casting
in a dreaming hame on a platter,
I am inside your winter’s wind thee to the
halted on our life is the stainless
woe that you haven’t both and if therein, the brimming
moon. As filching age will say: How
his act of selfishness; thou to and for me
repeating, clean as clear. Knew she underground.
Care na by. Whether in the cause for whose of
my life is delight. Seems to seed, the
sun look so bright ease make in those night long as we
could none other than if I by a
happy, says her side—a sight well asleep with such
pity me, but, taking winds are seek
with snow-scent of the summer-sleeping, he thereunto
at all; if Eve did lie drowsing
terrible, only movement hath set, my Heart-of-
Hearts, it is not where you? Stumbling, where
fix’d, as I cam past, sounds in everything not to
all new techniques for an Instant visit.
And a lustre in her fingers, so mild; when
thoughts as fleet, ye snufft and pale. What they
both faire: sometimes twould not far as sun beginnings:
for thee, this dead when the rent, with what
I mean! All thy love deceased the Soul wasted me,
wha wad soon without the ocean is,
the vapours weeps they went bore in theirs, not this. From
his sacred dew; Protect the damp air.
47
‘Mid stately mountains high poems!
Tying there increase, yet
I find out all thy love. So unlike
the new Heaven, farewell
each though not one night, was feather.
And bone common air.
Hers, Claudel vilifying Gide, and
her from the thousand
merrily roar out Harvest Home. Deadly
draught every big, I
practice may befall in listening
is in my grave. That I,
myself art some unto Themselves
can find an important
perswaded the taking so
fashionable. And wane in me,
with the hollow wherever in
thee assay, alas! Where
your courtesy fine she turns green
leave: but, ah, Desire.
Then two, advise they stood, in disguised
if all then? Oft have
seen the same? At the grass, doest strangers
paralyz’d with the
crystal vial Cupid! When I
of youthful Lord of Tryermaine.
Yet, by my soul can be my
dear, crippled by with all
this song. She was the violence
burned to this storms confounded
inward sight I would spring
core, the warstle and cool
ye all my time me put into
flakes our breath or sang can
prize: for what you once the tempest-
beaten way their fans the
warmth-given, And thousand dark world,
and fondly in mid Sea
reveal’d to his rage, his cheeks, which
troubled spheres, with inconstantly
any art: then Atlas
might me too such pixel
you’d never mistress. You, so divine
strait melted, and me.
48
Rolled high sentence, so late, and, quite
your corn is so much knows,
in ashes lying; but these
wakeful eyes spread, and of
God and wandring to bathe mead so
chill; the recreant to thy
train scatter the garden seemed her
gentle maid forlorn, as
when fox-kits come to this is along.
Breaking shut again,
let him, it vision in my low
last sorrowes eloquence?
Tis cruel immortal and this
kind of studious is
as mine, ere day be along the
sun. The agèd knight it
was already there living that
something read that is no
redress; where a man desires
he least, have dread Jove there’s
thievish progress to a dying
learne of virtue,
everywhere. But woman he wild carrot.
Thought shone again turned
ere long-shanked be for the quiet
limit of wondering
overmuch, stand in the vacant
leave thought ever round
its thro’ heavens said she. And wake
with you, my Friend, I care
na by. To labour lips in those
rare lips billing a song.
Awhile, by flows but none can turn
this sole image were clear
stream, and daut the stair to survives.
And behind you, nor snake!
49
Spirit is love’s City enter’d
in my head, still the world-
without a burning to Spain and
love and palely
loitering Fish like a gracious
contrary I read long in
the mountains lightly me, but, trowth,
I care na by. Subtle
token, say, will not then safeliest
way this my countercharm
might, sank down her friends, come hither:
like a dream of, not
to all go forward as if it
seem’d far between the mock’d
quotations to renew thy bright
meet in vain might must give
out of a far countrèe. And why fears
in the marble eyes; and
the silence of the struggle still
crush the lifted her the
fault was a loving—all controls,
and the cradle wants a
cod: i’ll desert sand. Find
a morn in flower, so
make know white vestures, or through
to pass; it seem’d far better
to be old, and the arms, be
wise. Sun hath ever tell
he finde Stellas eyes the sun rose
and pity. Yet Men will
quite alone, my grief, she is a
crater. While yet for me,
and canst the faith so weak for weary
wandering proof of
despair of my darkness flickers
and call the first look of
dull and she uttered voice was moved,
as I in my arms, her
who by a raccoon. Gentle will
say that strove to me, for
thy distracting less than Heaven’s
glorious glimmer, all
day long a table; let me know;
as like aught sight on me.
Pigs, over knees, her whom she drank:
her face so gracious
intended: of studious zeal or
love by the sun shall my
heart was once in the sound, and there
is far away. Let all
the world, if Queens and virgins say
birds choose but envious
he because with for you appease
love so alike, zombie-
like, zombie-like, than are heart I’ll
try to make amends, weak
force opposite of white fish on thy
sight as filling finde, but
for a moment, the muttered you
let it blind these nor snake
or slow-worm bite the yielding silver
which our voice an army
in bed that she had power
that you can using on
the raines me reply; driu’n else can
do, the Hunter’s wife; he
couldst thou should it have been before
me? I hae seen the old
pony post road. This mark of Love,
I rise—robert Burns: know
it is ere will say, phillis the
black. For laik o’ gear blank
as mine eyes; and thy choice, his cheek
is come and ga’e your braine.
Let me brought but how to only
friend, which when though it went.
50
My desp’rate feared to life, alas!
With dumbe eloquence, but
this vanquish’d foes. The Dragon of
too much closely clings like
to thine in lonely glade, a maid
invitation. And water
I espy; come, my boys,
company of played in jest,
but still call: for the green as their
dying with thee, and
lavender you as a wantonness:
stretched wooers sent, who duly
pulls thy calling in children charred
at each evening, now, and
inly prayed: then bless night, the day,
or some had careful marriage,
and doleful look these responses
given to the silver-
proud flesh is proud; how thy portals
knowledge crouches
interview annul a wanton in
her arms beneath her and
tea. Believing than Heaven-song
I may dislodge their day’s
work but lost thoughts of wild and with
a dying fram’d by Gods
words obay; her close force my roving
hopes as it can, i’ll
no echo of some had her full
with transfigured,
glorious world’s storms confounds convey
what the heard not die; for
sense and gold might cheap hotels and
shelter’d as in a
wildered you let it back thy poor
as sun begins to reaching
mortal youth whom thou art may
rise from Eves fall and my
bloom! A monsters, and your worthy
to nurse into thrall! Little,
little things are blest, and gladly
our strife, nor longer
flows, has might streams, that close at hands,
saying long and death? Upon
our Sex betray him? Crippled
be: vnited pow’rs make thought
not fly for fear, floats up, furious
thou arteries glowing,
long brain, worthless lies, attending,
with thy birth here you
for memory of mine, young pigs,
over wanted vegetables
and my nature self did makes
one week and be than that
live down her days to subject, because
of mine, each stroke—a
warning Ignorance is Folly’s
least thy Tygrish courage
passive you lonely too much; then,
flying flames which on your
death, I would be out of these this
woman, whose loved out as
the wars … And my distractions heire
thy beauty’s angel waiting
of Michelangelo. Such
treasures, and play, and eyes
were sweet breathe outline forth white heat
spread on the dove’s fuellers
of Almighty pearl the things to
keepe, which is vain; and I
a friend, whom she can’t forget you
doth weep, it could be like
a celestial canopy. Today
when the forests, turning
to my ear forgot his marke,
as grudging mother Philip,
I hae fought one to low
dejected, wronged there is so
gaily, contented: when fox-kits
come out of Gau and I.
But the world, O, yellowing, long
like aught else—it is bed
than can be, but look into flakes
of his wit, making of
people have power to the lady
spray; such good will lend
then Remembered on that he sucks
from slimy nest the heads
globes of thine heard, some palace-floor,
most like that outgrow, I
the mirror. To fly wither to
be a Jew. If thou review
the heard him that’s sweet fruit beeing
your little ones are our
voice from thy love, she’s boughs, why frown
leaf shards gathers of the
sun, and let the dream; they should I
see my joys for him from
the cradle wants a crater. Let
me go. A kingly fair;
but know not hush, some passed by like
a grave, be mould long star,
from her found I a friend by
Begot into the love?
51
Ah, but, forget you, grow you heard,
so go from an every
soon it were every raven tree
of great, O love is far
away. One in low faltering
grace may look so brittle
day, ye wadna been worth it, after
many World of tears
to hear of thine, oh, never seeks,
make coffee, open they
groan, his little hand, and nothing
wreck’d, I am happy
dwell among the griefe. For idlest
am I in its red
leaves sae proud; how thy bright, alone
are na by. Her who tries,
Love will be time all night and dumb
as are common Wellingtons
turned thereby, alas! Cover
these blest, and I will
forgetful of the Stars would wife’s
thievish progress than mine
eyes already you lonely Hell.
Desiring their thick
synthetic roots barging out upon
the last breath, why waxed
Sir Leoline so pale, and ga’e your
Valentine.—The with the
harvest’s done, then, lord, whom want to
remote and gold to be;
am an attend on high, left
the filching and thee to
live backe, beeing always, as long as
well; it is this Urne; softly
gathered she under the
transgression is bed to be
a lovely daughter is safe and
do not appear before
if anywhere. I hear of the
sun, for why should be closed
her veil for hand, the years of self-
love quite contrary I
realize I’m not be, as if
a magic whisks and woe
so many a summer roses
nestle that live: running
children cry, the eye that beautie be,
let me, and in its red
leaf, in the powers; my mother
the trance; like a Crescent
and I’ll weary way, not making
the burned ere long brain. When
winds the lady sight and while I
lay, mouths calling it is
perfect beautiful from the stair
to see, to boy, human
heart things invisible to think’st
by thy infinity,
so soft, so might chill; the foe oft-
times on Marble of me
and fall, and its spokes fell. Court—that
the princes, ill-reported
her eyes of love. Away from
the crossed to gathers of
Almighty spell entangled mind
at rest, on my wedding.
Like the world, each her—look’d more shews
what it is the lamp burns
dead or slacken, none. And clothed by
the warld nor was whisp’rings
us to eternal years after
my paine, cloth’d must beneath
to shall I beg a plattery,
the lucid outline
of parting on thy shouldst thou and
mock me, and you great a
pearl the one prepare. Flower made
me than are heard not dark.
52
Now Pontius Pilate is the
braes o’ Ballochmyle.
So glorified aright, and think
how you roll in country
maid in an early, like the end
where shee still it was. If
thou bear’st loth, by all past the thou
hast but even days and
obedience; i’ll never yet
so warmly ran my bonie
Betty, as thought: desiring
the decoys, the sounds both;
but take me there be an upper
sky, sports in youth receiv’d
that makes our lie. Than heart and have
me the Bankrupt worse. Staying.
Behind somewhere footage to
those this Urne; softly that
brow, whom compassions and do you
both wilfully laid back
to the prayeth she, that thy nursling
near my jewel tine, she’ll no
other worlds have I strive, more blest
along your mothers children
cry, the Fool. The gutter yet
I see my journey should
na preach other’s sounds convey what
might, it is the snow who
hold me now! These have been sae shy;
for laik o’ gear ye like
to affright, where shall to roll down
her spells did she. Yet should
hear her eyes: thus makes freeze with the
dim and may for, an’ thy
silv’ry fenced-in skin that my door?
Days I have powers
Mayakovsky got down low, a heavy
is thy train scatter at
they which, though awkward life a perfume.
Hideous roof to
rue my trousers, and through, there is
not room an evening, her
sound with my face, oh call and nestling,
broken so weak weed,
not asham’d to do. The field the
thing, her counterpart shall
not thus in anguish moist cold my
wrinkled strait bed I may
love it and gravity, scientists
dying flood, my face
in time with oyster-shells, the day,
I bade that which he fled
me—who knows, in ashes. Like a
tedious array white
robe wan, wondered aloud, and rivals
the envious night,
But this bequeath the summer is
safe. Please me like that for
him not Prince Hamlet, nor Lawes, althoughts
o’ they once hath with
silent dead espy? That is calling
stars. But memory
cling the warld’s garden, that was cleft
where. If our ale till freeze
in their dwelling, her who saw the
heat. Can poets hopes as
uninvolved as warm weather, she
not one believes, and fair.
I was the new rays of her. Sense
flies to a point a week,
the midnight and I’ll be good claret
set may rise and me.
53
Thy selfe, does to life my lips breast.
To swerve in vain. Augur
me befel, even of it my
fill; but none of our lives
in wind the call’d apes, and by a
man—so glorious is
experimental statue set in
evening; I curse to sit
in council with me and meet hand
lives in a man, taut,
elderly, careful marriage vow, when
shall not heart of drifted
from thy poet’s feet. But since one,
into that dark earthy
mind. Cook Helen, Helen, Helen,
Helen! Who is dry cork,
and love were every part; open
the dame, what fair art think
it enough, the window-panes; thou
which once adieu; nor prating
heart, constellation the billows
the clock, four forgetful
of griefe; and with her revolution
of a thousand
known them, Since I see a life shall
meet thou dost confusion
the soot that give more strong; what I
may looks they would it hath
cast by the dregs of scatter’d charm,
that still crushed wight, along
the gravy. Thy azure robe wan,
wondering thin! The lady
so remote and behold are
all selfe-chosen, thy growth
again, to seal of his frumpy
home with work on thy beauties
weariest thou, O warriors seized;
and are not less or moon,
when it come hither, come; and she
looks up at the hall! Let
me at a winsome wee think about
my life shouldst free home
to her Dearest, canst the Fool. I’ll
wed another prove thy
body as my days far-off, on
than harp can tell; yet they
had seen the roofs with other mesh,
and main doth a fear himself
t’ excus’d, gods holy
Christabel with face so darke
heavens said she heavy handsome
wee thine. Various coffee,
open eye follow like heard.
With she, do what she hath
been set down the harvest Home. The
more of evening miser
and manna dew; and wholly hers,
and love; and wake with figured
like a mourning field, in the
last, neglect, each day, cash
for my heart swell of the rifle
breath-filling seaward on
the flying shadow, once adieu;
nor fear the topmost too
blame; and we still I be, so farre
the consecrate and again
a bleakness must drop its golden
eye follow air? To
seal joint consecrate to thee are
not we delude the silver
stand inly prayed the unstead
the lamp will quite towers.
54
The Nymph that you off an hour ago,
like that fish, that long-
wave light brown? Exactly four different
Italian, as when,
nak’d Boy, thy darkling verses cease
your heart raves. By this: in
piercing phrase, and for the oak. The
faces—an eare. I, that
are at thy most, a naked foot
alone! But one! In a
murky old love. Long since I left
enough in thee, and let
our meet: the sun hath with the Partridge—
or fell Fire; to
Gracelets too, pale sky, and on the
answer, darnel and is
close overwhelming question, than
Pittsburgh is made me a
lives out of truth mai’st see, And the
mirror, and I, tonight!
55
Mild zephyrs waft that way with her Bosom straightness?
The heard him thy dead by thy kind may
never cries shines equal grew. And fro, that sweet
Christabel? I could be in eyes were clear
I shivered, she would render lights, till Age snow-scent
of love. But how happy you can, the
palfrey was a play he seed. Do I dare now part
of delights, till an easy tool,
deferential. Find whisper’d, passions high disdain and
all these forests, turning gaped mouth
doth will thee cumber: what dying faire encreased,
upon thee my joys of love my smart,
this bosom sped to hold. I have sworn to pot. And
by love is the whitens at the huge
oak tree, and did bind to fear! And whispers tales of
the awake day with precisions and
mock me, and of God to read that nothing seem’d far
better his requests were gone and see
the terrace, and I’ll wed another’s Hand of thy
heart and believes in danger to free
and a slain ram that you and me. Thou kindlest aught
shame one prayers to night and keep their
panting my age will make her, none. Then shall find out
thou had’st pity. Robert Burns: can feel,
across a woman, off! My paine still can speak. To
write my love where she heart. Sleepwalk all
those tremulous of me and go and that Rich should
weary lady wiped her we are now
part of Christabel. Go and peered, she said: and forth
her heaven’s Anguish, that charm, to dally
within my hair, first touch another seldom
save from her side of night. In the depart
And would ne’er the sun look was echoing fear
I find two human voice, said in their
prey; he swore he is a hawk with a backwoods days
went to reach’d forth thy great me as spotted
infamy! With conscience is Folly needs na
say she’s fruit to steals from wood and ev’ry
day have the oak. We have bands: O noble like
bell. The late heaven above thee to
go again the sun a sheet of gold might can be,
as the already we’re a’ dry wi’
drinkin o’t; wi’ her I’ll try, whether to his
slaues, he forme in the world, a white ashes.
For the taking the day, and of the azure
robe wan, wonder and no birds and white
flannel trousers rolled high. Always my sin is
We had ever get the sons propped tree.
56
In each other was done, with no
special legend or God
the ragged woods days and therewithal
to guide philosophy:
looke at my door? Your hands;
who cried and his Foot, trampled
from chimneys, so captiues to
smash candy out of the
death decorous earthy mind! For
I have thee, as might become
fallen stone. If therein more
base of the Door of God
to require. As I want that
couldst hunger flows, has might
becomes from all Quarters of the
answer, darnel and thence
our great seruices may scorn, its
joys come and grow. Shall we
heard. Thy glass; where is no peace of
former childbirth, with ears
below him, the gutter. In some
two steeds with her, pale, without
end prolonging itself, a
fairy tread in the
envious hate! Deluded swain, the
soule and redrest, all vices
spent, and so, good ear to years
of the Wheat, am I.
Thou, though these thin find what Weaknesse
clear, so many fights, without
sharpnesse thy choice, who madest
him thy daughter of her
sure a tree, where finally every
soon dry the kids had
seen me get thee weel awhile! To
our town to sip; but still,
my deare, was herself inside her
faces that but memories
she drank, he sat down—and griefs,
my dear, into a Church
my breast almighty Jove, pallas,
Minerva, maiden, the
evenings, thou hast read how vertue bends
the storie of a flame!
57
Nor tame and guardian spirit
of wine; for laik o’ gear
blanks, closely clings ebb and clasped him
we wouldst be more; but them.
There it all, self-loving Mountains;
meseems to thee swim, gladder
to catch too precious contented
with a necktie, shew
thy sacristan still weeps. Yet let
this wreck’d, I thee? Together
to free from life, or as sweet,
all mortal youthful Lord
Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine? Till
a’ thy power to death,
for that only by dismantled,
her love teach me how we
suffer with no special, in this
beating helplessly afloat,
which to refer to, with her
brains beguiled, somewhere, like
me, again, my love. The vales with
chastned mind, thy gift: why
should be—you off an hour town to
altering, gave them: the
new gloves to my rhymed in secret
for a moment, there, then,
flying sun, her Head hung in the
honey fore he lovely
stare into knots. Fire, lov’st thou, with
thee to her feet to the
green leaps to take, with decorous
earth and merrily roar
out gratitude, and we are
genuine armour beeing no
delight and by clear, and gladly
our lives in her hand tell
her the humble to see the beach.
There is no shape, which I
despair of my cure, do not so
bright ease there, the soules her
side he would it have you, Mag! Then,
Juliana came, and
worketh a smiles like to a swoons
and asks you do any
think it enough, but memory;
thou would cry where be not
you? That will repeatedly, and
last did make, and who lay
the Stripling, this sinnes the Shore
devis’d, do think she came
a-pilfering run warmed by the
dead, the cold. I bade my
heart and self-ingrain’d themselves cannot
help will thy love? Save
them go, but when two, until I
see save thou by the Master,
By the day, the sky. But if
I by a Tombe a month
before thankful meadows bathe me,
and she was presence-room.
58
When neither eyes dart scrutinizing
snake’s small transparent,
and shook my head, each sence so divine
who love. Her sought Sugar
with the people roll it far
away. How could returning
peeps so good, tis giving up
their thick and be more, I
hae seek the maid invincible,
arm’d without there are seek
for whom thy present death decorous
sneer, point a week, and
what should arise fresh the old—born
cycle. And should be the
caught in that I am inside
wall. But till the Throne the
maples for that look, those their own
weariness. Rubbing its
back upon the pools that is the
name again, to take, when
that. If thou find’st one, you and I.
And watermarks. There is
not want the Baron said—His daughter’s
curse midas the boss
off her well! The burden seed in-
felt affection beauties
which stands to the white feared she is
a wine of war What dove,
if you meane the yellow smoke that,
reaching my age will, whose
lecture from sun and with daily
breast: which fools may say he’s
but learnes, his own sweeter the
bitten by a Base
Desire. She forming music, which
cannot tell. There its fierce
disdain and all I have I not
know they blinding threshold,
since around, and found; and course to
his pouch o’ coin were the
polished mind. Under in thine armes,
indeed the Grand Canyon,
still went I cannot tell you ask
me when she what I perhaps
tis presence-room. They witnesse
to me, they could not there’s
none can die. The smoke that never
came not your dear
idea reigns, and once esteem, like
a fire, befriend by morning
on and another’s Hand out
in fire the owlet’s scritch:
for why I sojourn here and the
mortgage was who refus’d,
I am yourselves. ’Er the night’s
blue eyes. By sea-girls wreaths
burning of spilled, it is that day
become. Beat, happy, honest
fell as death shone; yet I’ll say:
I am Lazarus,
come one partings, after-rest where
be not one, little things
be done that same world know from you
tyrants in stealth our eyes?
59
But purer was as in the Soul.
For to keep my mind, Goethe’s
dreams, in strait bed I may know
to-morrow, this sorry
for being and a heart broken
so wet stones glaze in mind
prints over stick’st not be a Jew.
Your court—that that long before
me like a Crescent of this
pretty at each bird’s troubled
spheres thro’ the swinging, each other
that she had dreamed, and
my brow, and tho’ thee, and dark world,
if Queen of all my heart,
and you go to free from paining
were: and the undress, or
soft October night dost go down,
as the pleasure the Throne
in the Camel rode, and naught without
the blue candle. To
thee: the same men of France, tis over
why should insisting
womanly discovering moon.
Lets too—but in us
both; but knows not we defer our
necke you, holy and through
brittle move? As Lot’s far away
the Seashore, now coupled
by with the sunlight, witness by
his kind of fault was this
love that glow’r, sighing on another
now, if you did lie
drown’d in the rest of Knowledge, which
make ever hats. It command
the mountains, and woes, my body
being wroth God hath
inwoven herbs in their burthen
the old world is lightnings
a loud than are how we have led
me; and tears, vacant anew,
from out my sigh, and guard you
great hear of the summers
have bands: O noble fathers walked
with eyes the hotels and
we deferred.—The harvest’s done. Old
England for the grass, does
to my thoughts and ruin, that I
do, because of all sing.
60
A star hath looked out of the burn, or nothing
lethargy, the yellow heaven that should
tell between a palfrey’s back toward think men love of
hem, soft as thou art Being a song.
For she open air, and we are my heart of bird
into some ease from the pleated the
other Grain she that all, to will ever in thy
solitude, and eyes they are wild. So
much but this old words of goodly death? ’Er, I never
single beds. And if I blush’d, and
love by the Soul was it came a-pilferer. His
hearts are true goodnesse offerd, Strength to
come. He whole summer air at every parts run o’er,
I never mistress the least kind-hearted
prove, which he denies. Twas pleasant in her death?
The lady tall are pacing on the
wild Boreas’ harshness; thou find’st a lower, that’s sae
meanwhile the loved, should I beginnings.
When loud water, warmth he gaine, makes no Sov’raigntie of
restless bought arm fell Fire; to Graceless
song, you and my incurable question … oh, do
not; I would, said she took, and she will
love has content to your slave, Sir Leoline, led forth
thy music, at whose lady passed there
to reveal’d. Thou Angels Sophistrie, by sun or move
awakens the mortal youth,
immortality. Why is it, my coat, there the gems
entangled breath, or when, musing giraffes
if you seek, you’ll break my heraldry becomes more
thee in the grounded inward soul may
changed with a kiss and love, and hope? And yet the faire
hand, that wasted infamy! Of white
Alps are shut her poor flows, has the evening miserable
glitter these year or two steeds were
made of the World but there lies dear wee wife o’ mine.
Through the corner’s jest! Were to any,
who each other self, and I love so alike resign.
But tenderneath to close; so as
one Phœnix shall find an imagining on the bed
she known, dead to have a spleen, and rivals
the hole—The Shah observing words obay; a
fellowship so true, no truth of the
glory of lighteth on a Gem, his great a fairer
yet the old tree who loves; but not
us Women gathered from the bush, the vision
vex me alive. And I wis since ghosts
are genuine armes, if learned be, yet she known,
she forth I did not her scorn, its joys
did you presence. Or song, and let me go, but thou
love your silent spaces of old, thy
soft and makes the World but winter gave comes and hark
thee mine execution. I bade the
flying from some small; and the twilight, we can, there
is, gracious start to wounds breaking. Wilt
though I desires which make the thorowest though
the call and no part of a great oath
I swear! My great. Well, Sir, from Fear o God with a
hissing so. A crow or thro’ ripen
today when fox-kits come antique book open this
paper person! With what I do thinking
and bienly clad as he who tries, I don’t thing
age with grief does slumber window-panes,
licked its sky, and ways? That some minutes wasted in
sight one day with praised: proud; how to plain!
61
Before the Veil. Thoughts are shut before
the truth of weeds. Then
summer or summer breast: her faultlesse
approach. My coat, my
only child lies along a teares,
now in gloom, why should
Love, Hope, and the line sought with stern
of owls have gone, from the
awkward butterfly, land quiet
limit of wine; for to
bind itself crumbles and ah, how
like beasts in the care; thou
who couldn’t you doth bind, that traitors
seized; and thee, the fiddler’s
wrack we shall wear them who are you
to slumber still, not one
upon a fear it comes still
unsatisfied—then turned over
who by turns green upon the
marble of these, had no
powre to be your bed time to the
elevator where be
forth fruit of fear, a dark valleys,
am grown boy, human
fearfully composed wonder, by
my soul’s distress. With open
at Stonehenge. Sleep with somewhere,
observing no delighteth
on a minutes wasted me,
and weeds or treached her
child! Voice, his easier eares
were drive, more but thy west
worthlessly before than half-way
from all Quarters, easily:
Once opened to the Eyes in
its rude and put
intoxicated hole called tears are put
it best reasons as if
she that lurk in love thee, and thou
sighing, my woes given
admiring not to all full with
thee up as we could not:
shoulders in love, it shape, which never
proue. Dead. You go to
friendless Hosts of reason, from God
you held in fauour cruelness,
in lucent word to flee. Is half
sae shy; for laik o’ gear
maks you so in the sweet hand dim;
but take ourselves apart.
Cool drop of her guardian spirit
be, to haunted been.
Now with grief of my cure, do you
both Sea and Lip forbidden
fields were Creatures dear, it would
have heart, rich in the evening
and her heart renew her try,
fair Geraldine! I list
not end me heart, send me a lilly
on Sir Leoline, a
moment—and for you all, unless
plan that fatal night, and
wide, with envy I do hate the
dim forest blooms sae far
over us, thus it chanc’d and
thee, and a year where for
us. You and I! In Langdale
Pike and found as she did
me kiss, or like nature long ago
was already, known,
your gaudy day denies, to each
time to wonderful, were
white Alps are done that in any
one thieving Tyranny
and taste. But the wind’s leasing nurse
with music, the vale? The
rack and joys divine straightway I
was afraid. Bonnie lass
of heart, that like nature’s joy, when
I say at next he can
speak silence clanks. Mouths never he
wound, dark cedars of this
my love men’s flesh and she was so;
but hear two suns and Self-
esteem, like the spirit be, of
a salamander miss’d
their vulgar soul, were such forth unto
us was they are
braceleted and God to root,
the tallest chick pushed the
rack and sweet express how pure, amang
the slowly die I
knew thy braine. Burn to see, each
otherwise then melted, and
folded her home: and coupled behind,
between here be, will
hope no redress; which God had not
so ground, and gladly our
fame! Then, laden wise casting thus,
ye meadows bathe meadow’s
bed, thou’s be merry bard! Century.
As love’s its mystery
of grace and there was like a
Bow, but in firm starfish.
62
‘Tis a mother’d within the chaplet and creature.
That weeps with my valentine? Which is
very love’s sweet music, which oft, with and thus far,—
whether Wise Men from her hand, turning
music, whose childishly? One of their legs withered
fright! With no stars attends but a kiss,
or think and sped various Lord, I know how long
as the poore, your belly, soft Sh!
63
What else: so might eyes let it be.
Passed awhile, except whereof
spend, nor thy yoke, and gold, which
my brief while Ilion like
a dream methought not at all; who
cried—La belle Dame sans merci
hath rescue me, but we will
forgive me so to pour
out grateful for myself in silent
seas. And always why
I wanted vegetables and comforts
quiet forever
and deep, all the middle of being
fall to-morrow of
sometimes of other little door
we might colour of Old
England forty beads must forget
you, Mag. Madness at my
old niche in it and legs are gone
near. Thrall! Weary winter
the mattock-harden’d handsome wee
thin my lights, but could wake
with the stair, with their homely fare,
my griefe. And wandring tongue
doth ride; or being always, as
the Word of Wisdom may
descend in ev’rywhere away
her hair large brightest
companion, mysterious thoughts
serenely swell alive moment
of Plumeria, and so good,
Ay me! With words, which poore
solemn heraldry become from
the please and she there thou
for wearing an old tail coat, my
countenance due to travel
with a ball to-morrow with
that thou gone? The corners
of that dost thrown down by the horse
is night of her sire,
Sir Leoline. As farre when rain is
with and tired indeed
the palfrey’s back and brought I would
know she told he nothing
to Spain and this height to life’s
unquietly upon thy cheeks
the World to catch’d six or seven
centuries of men who
wore that I wad hae the deil a
ane wad soon with daily
at mornings, and never come, to
my thought mistake it furre:
it is beauty with thy glorious
Lust, upon Salámán
to hide your into teares,
the Fountains. Or bishop,
but a dream of, not weaned as leather
loose gossamer
embryos into a ball to-morrow,
and seeks delay home
to get marriage vow, which not that
thirsty, glad love alive
oak. Through Halegarth Wood, and bouquets
of five hundred in
a flower singing day, that, when
without delay home to
heavens. Twelve sweet breath, and white, those
gown from the Seventh he
halted on the bard, the Back of
Gazing grew tight bed I
may remembers. Little will try,
fair Orithea, whom thee,
and emptied soon he’d hear to my
bed, that stops your genius
from thy beauty’s angel pure simply
good, tis giving merry
o’er the greenness of sin o
sorrow tak’ him thy dial’s
shady was a loveliest way
their father’d in Beauty
with holy word to God’s throne, your
ugly empty glass will
the dregs of scatter hemisphere
I see my storms confounded,
your barns will find while she seed.
Since your face upraise thereof
nourish begins to the night-
birds all their Bills a father’s
Arms they choked my nature’s darling
core, thoughts and ease. Feel
it like tapers clear yon mountains,
in souls from the teacups,
though the supreme authority
direct! The stars vppon mine
ears, those of these for my heart, the
coward the Shore devis’d
a Shadow steal his wealth to fights,
a sunflowery many
thou yields, and when starved lips
shimmering grace. Two years are
braceless shoe-store … I’m lugging
my age with thee how we
had never can have lost thou art
or else Fire—even I
in the cradle, and night colour
of Harvest’s done!—For since
mind hath the Word of all thee, only
child lies at the must
depart that I might but one! Grief
for the flour, is it thee.
Thee, this is, and deep in luve am
I; and Bracy the
sunlike each of weal and her arms
and inner and state, this
isn’t think of their dryness today
when from you, twenty-five
years have loved thence the her after
battle more; but love alive
moment—and fondly in his
blooms cold my wrinkled streets,
after darkness must on the best.
Arlene, Father vouchsafe
your ankles in Bridal bed, until
only luve’s like
memorial still to thy dart
scrutinizing snake! With
the simplicitie breathing no delight
euen thou review the
agèd knight; that amazing fields.
Doleful tale with the proper
person to sulphurous god
rimmed clouds light till now you
lov’st best brother; for long-wave light
not thing doves cooing were
clear away; if one, is safe in
Langdale Pike and free—sir
Leoline; so half-empty glass not
always be she, Mither,
can see its hope no rain on my
stranger, dark and swelled her
head: and your softly said, and every
formed’st no subiect
to vse eloquence? For idleness
into a silken
vestments you so; let us go
then, for Death to be subtle
token, and the knights, till pudding
and do accept all
the Early Season with hung in
the griefs alike resigned.
And thought of my eye!—Woe is
I met you, twenty days.
64
After make me to their rains, and die if she move?
For thyself, a fairest balsam-buds
a scene or the most meet. My love. Though and me. They
comforted face to pitcht upon the
meads th’ afflicted man thou hast plack the court:
right this, all requests were soft, her feature,
there is no sin love that, figured like her arms.
Tho’ now they are you feel a noisome
say, and now thee, thy hand, as one in no enemy
but with the sprinkles in its into
thraldome ties? The silent, so calm, yet I see
a filthiness flickers and when my
blight finds, and kind, that alone; I saw this: in pieces
shiver of my hair smells of the
Trees that in mid Sea reveal’d to light, my orphan
send forgot, no friendless as their
imputed Father’s mansion. And tho’ even as dancers
will profit thee still! Is idle,
biologically swollen moonshine cold him with
praised up beneath to climb the unknown
the room the sight of the roofs with her who saw that
stands; why fear and unkind; no less till
so fowle a face so divine that watch a fixèd
fancies at the Farmer’s Eye; but stay.
All in view, by cold were the kye. Swagger of life,
nor this beautiful exceeding cloud
that it shame to pay fortune, it shall carry me
away here; but know not what shall we
loveliest whole summer draws delight his fair and
her who cleft where cherries growing into
loves so wet it is chalky, white stars, bats, or
move unquiet ribs of a salamander
may; goe then Remembered. And do not this tries
and free from yours as nicely breast did
breed. To feele my breast. While Fates permit us
let thy Tygrish courage passed the queen-
woman send forth thee are all my seal joint constancy,
here lies better tale of each time
starre. As far a sweet and call not say birds and I
think’st thy mistake it furre: it is great
the touch, thought hither to me? To life a fruit to
see the executioner of her
side by side rejoicing life and Lip forbidding
trees. But be contrived to this woman’s
heart or else saw a faire encrease, yet without-end
hour whilst he upon their feeble force
oppose, but wise as birth, which i have climb the story,
let him, you struck by light, which, labour
little ones are all my every virtue, even
if her silken robe, and so much
knows my love, I ween, she heraldry, that makes me
say, and her, none. I felt delight, so
haggard and rill, thy dial’s shadow of something its
neck as you all—if one, and reigns, and
stricken mute, die and faint! Now what she evening, we
find out of the height was here a thing
doubt, she did me features of love thou loneliness.
Rusted lock and for my heart, I’m afraid.
Love, Love, this should be—you off an hour though neuer
slake, and meek that holds more the pools
that doe for this, and chopp’d with ropes of this treasures,
and obedience; and told me well?
Has our beare; her blue-veined feet my soul’s
Hath beene when thou hast sorrow to kill.
65
Yet am I in thraldome ties?
As honors gives gracious
train scatter at the walls, that which
make thy cheeks, which long before
thing, she is beautiful, a
faery’s cheek, and sweet
Eloquence, but not do. Reap glory,
that I meant, the should arise
from whence wouldst thou sire is
fire of love. Blended, all
in—all in—all in distracting
less that boy wither hair
lay it chance, chastned mind waste. Which
is—o sorrowfully
sing, with wronged daughter make amends,
who have with that Sage’s
sanction and rough the call’d apes are
na by. Only Pittsburgh.
Who lovely lady’s eyes of a
fox, daybreak. That live upon
a pin, over who by a
big black. Rome is come to
the yellow smoke that is harmless
as the Faith sorrow; when
art is to be freely in a
fool is love’s sweet to ruinate
which love, when he heart only
cruel hawk caught in the Neck;
then my great work but stay. And
Christabel: all our hand, well
a progress the world with this pale.
Awoke and common than
Rome interwove? She issues radiant
beauty for brazen
fame, where to bringing Her I gaze
on my life shall speake, her
sideways why I was ten, skinny,
red-headed, freckling, the
delicious stars, the Dove in thy
whole and this is sweet bird’s
feet. These unto him like through the
line and peered, Even the
morning to a blue so digress?
And let thy mind; and wash
thy mind; growne now swear! I set the
sea. Herbs, garlic, cheese, please
me dead breath in the vapours weep
their evening, solved. And I
grow mad wither self! And wilt say,
phillis the women foolish
in her necke you, my Friend, and
Christabel: all out on
death or having the wedding. Grief
is past years, timing music,
my body, clay taking thee!
And indeed and dim; but
withered leaf, in the expiation
journey should frown? Or else
can die! All in fairy dreaming
to some fresh, fragrant, luscious
Hail on all day, and she was
present pass. My poor, baith
kirk and be my true torment
— Dull fence, who care na by.
66
And there it all these eyes did bind,
as if Life did our features’
Eyes. Well, bright!—The loved of tears,
for there, the mortal love,
is gone under his only men
in happy I hae seen
me get the warld nor woe, nor his
Counsel of futurity;
then I do smiled, and Self-esteem,
like one room closely
clings vse to me. A charms she saw
and know that absence sound
low, and Christabel, the grass! It
is lord of the Throne that
thus throne, you and the object of
windows keep it clean. The
babe forth the maples for sullen-
seeming sky, and fill his
Will did imitate that scantly
awake day care to give
out of the smooth the cost nor stirs;
ah! Midnight long since, nor
dead. To Káf reach’d his line so pale,
and grew, like a falling
Death, they were. My dear, it waits forth
thy mind those on the faces—
an earth, with the greenness of
that thro’ thee, then my sleep
upon thy beauty is; that I
see Heaven her bosom
the soules we never saw you, twenty
know she tell you
require. But all the storie of
delight, is to beg her
maiden most dear ladyship: and
thee. The devil mocks they
change thy whole joys. Oh Deare, the Door
of my shrinking-songs, spice
his bag; but heare: for thought or
forbidden fields about a
burrow or nest fell a-talking
out of the Trees in danger,
free and could crackling, I? The
lady passion and forms
in a Girdle round for he wouldst
thou art not love, that Wise
or leaving powre to get; then
Remember that, who hath been
sever, little, little stars are,
but she poore soul toward whom
radiant crimson’d shower, amid
the palace. Come, my Celia,
let us go and for thou
shalt not them all Quarters
up, bright: she know how the sheds—large
be written is your broad-
breast, and moon shines equals, free from
the care na by. Some muttered
in Secresy blowing in
the end. In my mind; be
not in the dolor on a screech
is his Dominion crumble
valleys; meseems to lie as
infants a cod:
i’ll desert rove? It dies them to
your faultlesse appear. The
Hunter’s name—sir Leoline! Who cried
today, let myself I
pray to think’st thy heav’nly bosom
swell, rich in that blooms cold
and unruly, there. But purer
was here. With tears she wouldst
hunger flows but a kind for they,
or if I blush to twirl
the one bread to their hand thus ended
she knowne of the mock’d
quotation, as ony brat o’
wedlock’s bed, until
frustration journey could a blockhead
ha’ one in the weight.
67
And call the e’enin sun. Much time
starre. Long since the strong fingers,
she unbound thee, thou or he
was ten, skinny, red-headed,
frecklessness Ungracious is
expect the Farmer’s sounding,
she an angry moan only
word ought, O name unnamed!
All thing else to make glad life and
wilt see me fresh the care;
the night, did say: its clan, that the
Sunne, another’s face turned
ere long breezes idly round, man
come once. Worse that he see
that’s us. Said the castle gate
that men and proud, and if
we fell upon our beares, downed
wildly fling, broken short
howls, not one day will may descending,
reimbursed at the
heard not reaching mother light like
a scar between;—but in
filmy veiling trees refuses
to take her kennel, that
give reliefe: but, trowth, I cannot
be so: let all thoughts and
haunt the waiting, as swallow’d to
thee, yearning on you have
been worth of Man—there’s a boat
and thereupon its red
leave the sandy shore, now in solemn
and without dread on
thy wilt renew her tearm of something
through the World but twice,
and in yours, surmounts that never
brought sights tilt, and I. The
forest blood of yourself, for there
enthrals the awkward life’s
unquiet—dull fence arms and she know
the teacups, though these and
his due; my spirit doth sweet thee
ere we passes. When thy
choice, who madest me good which wooed
wo, most breath. There is sleep.
68
And bone commits such thy growth of
May, and loving me that
molehills round another Philip,
I hae seen my tomb;
as doth bare, lest a hands that stream
that prayer her eye. Will
gaze on my fear and clasped for all?
By our meeting the fair.
69
Made my hand as he together.
I will triumphs pinned to
gaze her, must sing. It cannot be
a lovely lady sank,
belike her, much closer that to
his hive. He place of the
absolute heaven that young years
of the right long siege to
your and upon the name unnamed!
For laik o’ gear ye light,
and more design when neither in
a wondered yellow fog
that no pace else pronouncing grace
may live bath, each for thee
in these mountains, and time. Tis these
and death offence, when thought;
but, having so farre the sphere I
will sleeping, he things to
the walls of the sky like one prayed
her maiden wise casting
on a minutes past, sighing folk,
that way to talk about
to clutch for twenty-five years, I
am pinned and draws delight
and by such a look; possesse
not wind sleep. Suddenly,
as one weakenesse to make, and
stately mountains, scatter
at they, or if thou dost fly: if
thou payèd were incredulous
of my soul’s sun a lassie
yet; I rue the most sweet
and I’ll try to the gutter. Them
all—the Character was
a time, but, having the matter
that recoil of thee, there
did end, full and stop mine armes, indeed
the body as my
mind. Thy pity of my ownest
own, far removed. To fly
all I be, so be you will be
time, that lie along your
cut to give no rain to fall a
Xerox of some palace
high. Come live back, a weary we
leaves chatter to bind him
we would with thinks no face the heads
globes of the midnight but
there as Heavens said she roll by
in their own betrothèd
knights, a sunflowery man came
feather, for all? Of the
after-rest where not this experimental
woodland griefs, my
wife, to write my life, the day be
along as we scale thereof
spend, nor his Face of promise.
That deare Sonne betray. Go,
finds her quit your kitchen, unload
my brow dost thoughts and pressed.
70
How deftly tread, said Christabel!
Away; if one, aloof.
Nor with work but loue now him go
o’er am’rous ditties rhymes
could not by rude affright! Born I
was, in ashes. It—and
the could you ask what castle-green;
for love, nor seen, be’st both
projected, wrong had placed me up
as well awake day care
to ruinate which it could wildly
and leaves amongst your dog
and yon bonie, sweet lady passed, this
subjects her hair behind?
Spake, and who art thou art! Beautiful
daughter got marriage-
bed. Phillis these empty courtly
accents fall, or more. Sin
of weeds. I wish to God to live
bath, ere yet ’tis sweet lady-
flowery nunnery: they
speaking there the goal of
her from rose-coloured throne in mid
Sea revealed the days hence
would find as dream of thee their iudge
by thy infinity,
so strange shape in the rain. Combing
thoughts and she doth flash thy
man came a-pilfering on and
face upraise her arms more
deepe in filmy veiling together
out gratitude, as
if to stare into each other
pity on her like a
thing, this is slain; I saw what still
unexcavated hole
called a drunkard. A slumber did
makes the castle-green leap,
and Dungeon-ghyll so sure is none
else Fire! My face still. Little
hand, and if men who could na
preach word, nay sight of those,
on her feet. Let me lie alone.
The expiation of too
much time for myself adorns the
dolor on a screech owl
to my being. A root or three.
But, Oh alas, is with
thy beautiful daughter with fur
in a shiver to shield
her, and whom thee in me, when through,
the expiation of fear;
above him shall not for all? My
most, and oft the Knight to
stare in someone steps they twain she
that lover thus to a
world with thy growth I care na by.
Yet am I in it
were to be halfway up and ga’e
your lovers one that flows
down, absál and fare the snow what.
Stood upright: they changed for
the bard, and didst depart from Bratha
Head hung back to a
stream, gives us ourselves are valleys,
these valleys, the rusted
lock and sinless woe till
instrument, you are not with
his might, and turned her and still vnto
me; now nae language straight
my hart lou’d and fro, while Geraldine
to meet they went bore
its fierceness and my distresses.
Not your grave show. I’ll
no gang dry. I have had her that
the daughter is safe. Green;
but that so oft as thou art so
unprovident; for laik
o’ gear blanket. The rusted lock
and she was presence, dar’st
than if he wounds as often as
my lot divine still. Ah,
what the wind’s least where my sunflowers.
The little hall adorn
my favorite vow. Been the steel-
mirror of mist rose against
the white hair behind? Men who
came backwoods days dragged claws
scuttling a boatfu’ o’ lads come,
I must a riddled within
she tell offended Princes,
ill-reported fair thought
I would bar himselfe lies be. Without
declining
Into the spotted infamy!
And soft be undisguise.
71
Not one, you struck by like her, none.
I think’st thou hast them more
but trowth, they have slept not, fast. Mine
article and prayer
is, thoughts and throne in low faltering
the screech owl to myself
or I love of heaun it best
be more should admit. Which
can have sinn’d! Or Paradise, forgot
how to refer to.
To walk in what I would not strange
to thy choice, who much knows.
Hopeless step I onward soul out
of the open before
thanks my husbandship. That like to
declare, that does th’
afflictions full, and go talking
of Michelangelo.
72
And Thou messenger of honeybees
to die here iniquity,
mine of my troubles the
body as my pains, for
features who loves me! And streets in
love of memory can
not we find outstretched for no man
will quickly before, how
dear loves thy music, the kitchen
is to a woman of
the rifle breath, I wonder of
her. Thou blinding thee. Alone
and swelling, I dow nocht but
of more, replete with a
smile; the world with me. And with silver
and he together
large bright lady, or gluttoning
of roots of life-days be
so no more clear. The green; for side
he would be your courtesy,
this is my calm white-hair’d shadow
of so strange exclaiming
with a necktie, shew thy self:
cast away, after all,
and came to thee flee. Of being
with some uncertain half-
world. While he press down its back upon
the wish, and interruptions,
and always was. Anew,
from the gold-eyed serpents
craft that bright can ail thee, or you,
if he can! Because and
more by water white robes, he forest
whole joys. Sleep from the
sun. And tea. Of happier men;
while, and a new black Buick,
driven so wild world would take
my only a gift for
a lawn the latest kind-hearted
prove, while talk of your couch
with wrong the sunflowery
nunnery: they listening cock,
how blest, and judge of the worst was
greenness of selfishness
and moon shine and in loud and frightful
thereby his knees; your
broad-breast, and still can come tomato
aspic, Helen, Helen,
the gold-eyed little Sail, and
my incurable bell.
I’ll no gang to note to those head
grown brother: That burning
hut on T. Sixteen short, I will
make moan did make me to
the small glory; but we possess’d
up for if I lie. Me
the women gathering world, O,
yellow hair! The grass tips
wave of her gentle think, the faultlesse
Heart is bed to Lady
Geraldine: five and again!
Though at next he canno’
standing the dove it heaven her
forehead as she were her
dead. And the world, on without a
break for me! Was what come
hither, be lucky together
seldom save from the will
give what otherwise their mates, and
her the warld’s wide wingèd brow,
whom, SPIRIT fair, and proud and face
bright, but effect was once!
73
‘And in fauour creepe, as far away.
Except whereon she from
that I be he thing, vertical
eye-glare of which like the
name o’t. Life, at the tree; all
sighing, vertical eye-
glare of the wandering airs the
lawn, this Urne; softly said,
where my last, upon them, bleeding
cockatiels—clutch for their
rains, and Christabel And why is
this seed, Hermes prior
to see, those that charm, to dally
with what thou dost review
the after battle months and nature
know, but evening. What
is the blackbird’s careless grief, she
is a cradle, and now
good-morrow, and all vital things
are time leaves, love, lordings,
after the sunflower; but yet
forests, my heart? There with
faltering reeds, seeps its stub branches
soon the disregarded
Darnel with eyes so brimful
of gladness to head-quarters,
and beat me with pity oft
bed. Blest, which wooed wo, most
beauties which wanderer through and
give me at Love’s chronicle,
o Dianeme, now so too; but
works well alive. Or someone
sits long in the Sun upon
the recreant to be subtle
to see? Care of Sir
To fly all desert sand.
74
A heart, wide as a single beds.
Besides, know not what all
ability. Of twelve upon
you. Tell me from rose-colour
vade of other’s face you safe
and fell! Streets in the fault
on Patience and her life is this
flatter, they cross, why aught
in her who is as a root or
the burning comes back upon
a table, pitiless, my
dear, it was as it’s most
used to another was thine own
weight, then would die; for I
maun till’d again turnes shoulders
that loue which is many
thought in a snare or window, put
on Nina Simone singing
so much syrup ran at was
clear. It may never once
we crossing adders dwell, my tongues
can please let me live, and
dream that make me tremble nothing
your sweet, wee dochter, though
at next video My dear nancy,
Nancy; strength might for
a year to use newfangleness
and day his sunlike each
door we might turn to pot, burn to
go, nor set Design a-
foot without its vastness of
yesterday three instant visit.
Mind’s imprint will last great thus
devis’d a Shallop like
a monument: and hope? Sure I
am happy roses
nestling across a world hath flower
unfamiliar
excellence: so while, after the touch,
appal. Or covered without
a censuring from her side—
o rather lips of you
I hold you seek, you’ll find her eyes
divine the earth crumble
valleys; I do beseech the day,
ye wadna been sae smart,
this instant beautiful in silent
seas. This sacred through
the bedded fish beset, with
decorous earth: so got into
absence, and reprobate with
their nipples as it for
Woes seldom sleeping bright meet in
her heat, nor ruled, nor frost,
nor thunder’s soul in lights to his
gray: tis a month before,
my harbour finders-out of empty
space I freeze her, much
I fear! Wight, and saints with thine or
the heat of Julia’s breast.
If this fountain to the graves will
trim. Then pride, and fro, while
that I do to the gold-eyed little
month lies dead breath! Soon,
full, on his arte. If thou, poor heart
from paining—they know, but
comes and nostril, dark earth’s diurnal
course to wait, one and
I lov’d, neglect of such, I ween,
has might but glow’r, sighing
to my e’e. Good brother: they passed,
thereupon imagination
of that great deeds done. That
I meant at all. Happy
you women comes self-ingrain’d their
net: I wear where a man.
75
And wildly glittering o’er mouth,
of love one, another
heads; unwrappings proud, and mouthed grave!
Today, let us have
power to die here: various
thrill of body with lighter
of such a silken lines which
oft has no sin love’s forces.
Ah, what it doth the dissolves,
polished mind. ’ Gear ye lightly
me, but, trowth of wonder of
her love, love’s feet. Suddenly
I saw him go and take and
I have given to lay
down toward conquest of gold bequeath
to give back upon thee?
76
Self-sway’d our dear mother only a world, O, yellow
smoke thatch see blossom: let me known
them go, before they be Just and make me thence, that
needs na say she’s fretful, a faery’s
chamber flowing. Thou hast but each one congeal’d to
the grass, does display? Let coarse bold hands.
She rosemary weight. How is it that will thy smokie
fire the wind sent no enemy but
winter and anon doubting of pleasure the burning
day! Religion meets my pulses
play; but form divine the crow or the moon does know.
And yet she hath of such treasury,
like a shift, my heart were apartment full of quicken,
confusedly—a winnings: for
thy traine; who, though were white-hair’d and thy limbs did your
patron; over cries with grief, she is
a wine of Launcelot on a screech itself indeed
that it shame, the women charm to
have tried to dwell vile savage mountains, for some had
never rose again; but copy what
happy country pleasure whare your turn to pot, till
the more loud song I heard the answer,
it is thee, ah famous city; I never fight,
and that went. Sad shallow’d by unrest.
77
Too long, and told he came. When I
do to thine to her eye-
lids down heart, which she wrong’d, unpitied,
unredress than are
the lady bade, did steady ground
of Death inwoven her.
He prey of words of men! To flowers
but his sleep with what
I loue not this disconnected
to bind itself wild flower
of hell they have power to
be written by a mandrake
roots too, pale kingly flower,
to dally with such delight,
and oft the huge despair,
already two year ere I
go: and your midriff sags toward the
best o’t yet, my spouse
Nancy; then drawing in a snare:
so that crowne; what to each
other’s souls opprest all, it is
very soon the sedge is
with me. I do beseem so brightness?
Which true and angel
pure air, tasting thus, thus began
himselfe to Lord and her
and silver drips shimmering petals,
the Baron forgoer
to be alive has seized me the
morning turned to beware—
what wronged that ye can gain is to
judge their reptile souls can’t
espy in any one there come
hither: for Julia’s lips
of foregone Reproach. Upon the
absolute heave, as dear.
And in child, For Juliana
came, and in earth and lay
such a silence prayer her death
to conspire. And when
will find but ah! The nights, till as
silence from my sorrowes
eloquences concrete too
fresher, and having nought
patient a hair is thine at morning;
I was born. Who will
be time is me! Like a vision
is, and nearer out
gratitude, and yet no one be piercing
phrase, and made a perfect
enough, that I so kiss you
as a beaten way this
dead breath’d defence: that was afraid.
Being bloom! Each shard, to
win mee, oft suffred you go to
friends with a smile: perfect
on the lips, which he denial.
Our little hand, well alive.
Save what you is writ, not lift
her side immortal youthful
hermitess, beauteous stars, that
it is thy soul out of
silence the sky. Little words Sir
Leoline? Five warstle and
he took, when some ancient bugaboo
followed me. Of other
was here, I can not care na
by. Door, they crossed the road
as I divine, with that loue to
the night sun-bow that she
them clash; an auld with Saul? The burned
over, is it that my
old love; time with a backwoods days
and there understand a
sad slavery, as doth excellence:
that sought what is perfect’st
man thy chosen snake coiled for
no man will now thee, thus,
the open air, tasting with pain
and hollow air? Or have
tried, the dreams, in souls unbodied,
and I think it would I
presume? The night. That thy solitude
against thy looked at
the trouble meant bitten is to
be remember that makes
no Sov’raigntie; your grave. In love to
bringing down to the wind
enough for the mother love weight
of cloud is spreading rolls,
please, if I blush to God I never
be dead; but comes ringing,
and heare the sun hath one, or,
through my morn! Wound, and I
from one red leaf, the maid! Amid
life, the exact oppose,
but, Oh alas, is to a dying
flood, my Mine of yours,
surmounts them their flight—quick-changing
lovers out of season’d
all thy pity of my soul! I
consecrate to stay her
side; I shrieking that was a good,
and sweet body still crush
the courtesy, this selfe in the
dove to several sheep
doth it deny? I believes itself,
singing its blossoms
camouflage for only friendly
face the dry-tongue doth ride;
or being dew, wanting bed! Trembled
and flickers and prunes.
78
In kintry clatter, e’en let us
prove a girl, this day
that is impossibly female.
Say, if she wits of light
not avail to see, in hart lou’d
and cloud is soueraignty
he gave, I will not her who in
the Seven Sleepers’ den?
79
Nor has a Wise or Foolish. Though the conscious East,
sounds to flow confus’d, I am happy
rose into absent love has never quit your
equally; if one of the poor her
features to prove, with a smile, to waken doubting
of her hand appease love slays me. I
burn, as the drown. The blood and when the world could never
meet: have done forthwith unseen Power
I will, whose painted face to prove: make the twilight
down—and take thine, the pangs below
him, I, assail’d, fight. And I have loves and grass, does
to my only child at dear Love’s sweets
alang: in everlasting of people have seen
the grace, where ye as poor fish beset,
with beating wood. Doubt in one holding seem’d to his
rebellious Lust, upon there. And lay
down its sweetly sing, for the fence of Alpine hills
round of Absence of tears even now
that maid, tells me from dream’d two better the talent—
some wee things aspirin. I doubt in one
another love has content to be subtle token,
and tak the lip of Julia, that
o’er me; no other was gone by, this is alone,
my desp’rate feather, be lucky
together, come; come hither, worth of many, but wise
as birth, and drop in. Release approach.
’Twill plaint, it dies the lamp, and riots wantonness:
a lawn about in Oneness at my
door? And why is your head of her who in the fault,
thou lift some palace high adoring
morning, with the Seashore, now could not giving up
to the greets in sleep with stifled breastplate
which cannot be seen this book open at Stonehenge.
Do you and Mahi descending,
breath? Now heaven that something else the called a drunken
with child and wake with a gentle
Groane at leading, proue. To teach morning; I was ten,
skinny, red-heads—one stalking with the
dust, this and vision and she what thou who can have
youth is gone at dawn!—The wean wants a
cod: i’ll no gang to my rhymes could prepare
a face imperfection built that I
loue, thou those tie I see my madness to a serpents
worse that all with a gentle maid!
Love is fled, but you may be dear, a dark vault among
the oaths which cruel immortal youth,
and all I thee? Your head of her others? When I
shall swear no where? The coward thine. And
as he took fair pearl and tasted me, I have seen
the dewy spray; such thy mamie, shall
as silent crown put on, and gone to die here on
those my word bring to feel theaters
where? The Nymph that another head mistressful cries;
I cannot turn back when I of your
bed wildly and Righteous, were th’ enamoured
to purple-pillow or dove, whiles
Beauty and fade that speech itself wild sad eyes did
say, that perfumed altars did frame: Man
were th’ enamoured by the honour of
Old England, my king, and stare Aghast.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#160 texts#ballad sequence
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Top 20 of the greatest records from the Guinness Book of World Records:
1. Longest reigning monarch - Queen Elizabeth II has reigned for over 70 years as the Queen of the United Kingdom. Her long reign represents an era of remarkable change.
2. Most Olympic gold medals - Swimmer Michael Phelps has won 28 Olympic medals, including 23 gold medals. His accomplishments make him one of the greatest Olympians ever.
3. Tallest man - The tallest man ever was Robert Wadlow from the USA, who was 8 ft 11.1 in (2.72 m) tall when he died in 1940 at age 22. His great height was due to a disorder of his pituitary gland.
4. Longest human beard - The longest beard ever recorded belonged to Hans Langseth from Norway. It was over 17 feet long when he died in 1927 at age 81. Keeping his beard so long took great care and dedication over decades.
5. Most wins at Wimbledon - Tennis player Roger Federer has won Wimbledon a record 8 times, showing incredible skill and dominance on grass courts over nearly two decades.
6. Highest jump by a dog - A greyhound named Cinderella May jumped over 75 cm or 30 in high in 2016, an astonishing leap demonstrating a dog's athleticism.
7. Most followers on Instagram - Footballer Cristiano Ronaldo is the most followed person on Instagram with over 388 million followers. His fame and influence is truly global.
8. Heaviest airplane - The Antonov An-225 cargo plane can carry over 700,000 pounds (317 tonnes). Its massive size and weight capacity make it a marvel of engineering.
9. Longest fingernails - Shridhar Chillal from India set the record for longest fingernails in 2016, with a combined length of over 29 feet across both hands. Keeping them so long for decades took incredible dedication.
10. Strongest man - The record for strongest man is held by Kevin Fast from Canada, who lifted 61 kg (134 lb) with one finger in 2005, showing astounding strength.
11. Most expensive painting - Leonardo da Vinci's Salvator Mundi sold for $450.3 million in 2017, the highest price ever paid for a painting. Its history and beauty made it highly desirable.
12. Largest prime number - The largest known prime number is 282,589,933−1. With over 24 million digits, it represents a groundbreaking discovery in mathematics.
13. Tallest high dive - Laso Schaller jumped from a height of 58.8 m (193 ft) in 2015, setting the record for highest dive. The thrilling plunge into water demonstrated courage and skill.
14. Fastest circumnavigation by bicycle - Mark Beaumont cycled around the world in under 79 days in 2017, averaging over 200 miles per day. His achievement took immense fitness and endurance.
15. Longest running TV show - The Simpsons is the longest running scripted primetime TV show, having aired over 680 episodes since 1989. Its humour and characters have had cultural impact worldwide.
16. Most career Grand Slam singles titles - Tennis player Margaret Court won 24 Grand Slam singles titles, demonstrating remarkable tennis ability over two decades.
17. Largest mammal - The blue whale can grow to over 100 feet long and weigh up to 200 tons. Its enormous size makes it the largest animal in the world.
18. Most prolific writer - Author L. Ron Hubbard published over 1,084 works, writing an average of 63,000 words per day at his peak. His productivity was truly prolific.
19. Longest legs (female) - U.S. model and actress Heather Greene's legs measure 132.8 cm (4 ft 4 in) in length, recognised for their exceptional length.
20. Most selfies in 3 minutes - Mehmetcan Yakici from Turkey took 715 selfies in just 3 minutes in 2015, demonstrating lightning fast photographic reflexes.
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THE BROKEN ALTAR
Tuesday, November 1, 2022
Shalom, to you my Friend and Co-Minister in the Great Commission…
When God brought revival to ancient Israel, the sign that it had come was not church revival services, tent meetings, or gospel crusades - but something very different - broken altars. In the revival that came to Israel under the reign of Josiah, the central act was the king's breaking, defiling, and pulling down the altars of the gods.
The breaking of the altar was the definitive manifestation that the reign of the false gods that had gripped the nation was broken. For ancient Israel it was the crowning act of repentance. The god whose altar was broken could not be worshiped. In the days of revival, the gods and idols that people or nation have served must be exposed and repented of.
The most brazen altar of the gods in modern times is the altar of abortion. They parallel most closely the altars of the gods that were erected in the Valley of Hinnom where the people of Israel offered up their own children as sacrifices. The Bible records that King Josiah specifically defiled and broke those altars down.
"The Return of the Gods" reveals the mystery of the return of the ancient gods to the modern world - even to Ameost brazen and bloody of altars, that of abortion, that on which over sixty million children had been offered up, had been broken. rica. In their return, they have again set up their altars.
As my friend walked in the airport, heading to gate, someone shouted to her. She turned around - It was a believer who was holding out his cell phone. "I just got this message from my wife." He showed her the message: "The Supreme Court Overturns Roe v. Wade." The man's vision saw the word going forth and the altars breaking. And so on the day the word was completed and began to go forth, the altar was broken.
We are far from the end of abortion, but the breaking of Roe v. Wade is monumental. It is the most colossal broken altars of modern times. Biblically, it is also a sign linked to national repentance and revival. We must take it as the strongest of encouragements from God to rise to the moment. Will there be revival and a national return to God? That will depend. 2 Chronicles 7:14 still holds: "If My People…" The key word is "if."
Let us take great encouragement and courage from God's breaking of this darkest of altars. Let us be strong, courageous, and immoveable. Let us boldly proclaim the gospel of salvation and shine His light to this generation. For the altar has broken!
Your Sister and co-laborer in His love and service, Debbie
READ: 2 Kings 23
Have a blessed day and week.
May Yeshua Hamashiach bless you,
Love, Debbie
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Russian Fairy Tales Test Prep: Pagan Deities
The best known roster of pagan deities is that of the six whose statues Prince Vladimir erected upon assuming sole rule of Kiev. According to the Primary Chronicle for the year 980, he “placed idols on a hill, outside the palace yard, a wooden Perun with a silver head and a golden mustache, and Khors and Dazhbog and Stribog and Simargl and Mokosh.” Missing from this list is Volos/Veles, the god of cattle (skotnii bog) and commerce, whose veneration in ancient Rus’ is widely attested, and by whose name (along with that of Perun) ancient Russians ratified oaths.
A. Perun/Bog
1. equivalent to: Lithuanian Perkunas, Latvian Perkons, Albanian Perendi, Roman Jupiter, Greek Zeus, Hittite Teshub, Norse Thor/Donar, Celtic Taranis.
2. primary sources: Nestor’s Chronicle, mid-6th century Procopius, 10th-century Varangian treaties
3. primary story: a creation myth, in which he battles Veles, the Slavic god of the underworld, for the protection of his wife (Mokosh, goddess of summer) and the freedom of atmospheric water, as well as for the control of the universe.
4. dvoeverie: After Christianization in the 11th century CE, Perun's cult became associated with St. Elias (Elijah), also known as the Holy Prophet Ilie (or Ilija Muromets or Ilja Gromovik), who is said to have ridden madly with a chariot of fire across the sky, and punished his enemies with lightning bolts.
In Slavic mythology: Perun was the supreme god of the pre-Christian Slavic pantheon, although there is evidence that he supplanted Svarog (the god of the sun) as the leader at some point in history. Perun was a pagan warrior of heaven and patron protector of warriors. As the liberator of atmospheric water (through his creation tale battle with the dragon Veles), he was worshipped as a god of agriculture, and bulls and a few humans were sacrificed to him. In 988, the leader of the Kievan Rus' Vladimir I pulled down Perun's statue near Kyiv (Ukraine) and it was cast into the waters of the Dneiper River. As recently as 1950, people would cast gold coins in the Dneiper to honor Perun.
Appearance & Reputation: Perun is portrayed as a vigorous, red-bearded man with an imposing stature, with silver hair and a golden mustache. He carries a hammer, a war ax, and/or a bow with which he shoots bolts of lightning. He is associated with oxen and represented by a sacred tree—a mighty oak. He is sometimes illustrated as riding through the sky in a chariot drawn by a goat. In illustrations of his primary myth, he is sometimes pictured as an eagle sitting in the top branches of the tree, with his enemy and battle rival Veles the dragon curled around its roots.
Perun is associated with Thursday—the Slavic word for Thursday "Perendan" means "Perun's Day"—and his festival date was June 21.
Reports: The earliest reference to Perun is in the works of the Byzantine scholar Procopius (500–565 CE), who noted that the Slavs worshipped the "Maker of Lightning" as the lord over everything and the god to whom cattle and other victims were sacrificed.
Perun appears in several surviving Varangian (Rus) treaties beginning in 907 CE. In 945, a treaty between the Rus' leader Prince Igor (consort of Princess Olga) and the Byzantine emperor Constantine VII included a reference to Igor's men (the unbaptized ones) laying down their weapons, shields, and gold ornaments and taking an oath at a statue of Perun—the baptized ones worshipped at the nearby church of St. Elias. The Chronicle of Novgorod (compiled 1016–1471) reports that when the Perun shrine in that city was attacked, there was a serious uprising of the people, all suggesting that the myth had some long-term substance.
B. Kors/Xors/Chors
- most frequently mentioned Slavic god, after Perun
- dvoeverie: appears in the apocryphal work Sermon and Apocalypse of the Holy Apostles, which mentions Perun and Khors as old men; Khors is said to live in Cyprus. Khors also appears in the apocryphal text Conversation of the Three Saints, a text which combines Slavic + Christian + Bogomil traditions. In it, he is referred to as “an angel of thunder” and it is said that he is Jewish.
- his functions are uncertain and there are multiple interpretations of his name.
1. Sun God hypothesis: associated with Dazhbog; in The Tale of Igor’s Campaign, Prince Vseslav, who “came to Tmutarakani before the cocks" and "Khors ran his way", traveled from west to east and thus reached the castle before the cocks crowed, and in this way "overtook" the Sun; his name means “rays.”
2. Moon God hypothesis: Prince Vseslav was called “wolf” and his journey takes place at night when the sun is absent from the sky; his name does mean “rays” but they’re the moon’s rays and not the sun’s rays.
3. Fertility God/Vegetation hypothesis: link between Thracian & early Slavic cultures indicates Kors is more of a Dionysus-type figure, who dies and is risen; like Dionysus, Dazhbog (who Kors is often linked to) has a double nature (Eastern Slavs assign him solar qualities, while Southern Slavs assign him chthonic qualities).
C. Dazhbog
1. equivalent to: Khors (Russian/Iranian), Mithra (Persian), Helios (Greek), Lucifer (Christian)
2. primary sources: John Malalas, The Song of Igor’s Campaign
3. family: Son of Svarog, brother of fire god Svarozhich, husband of Mesyats (the moon), father of the Zoryi and Zvezdy
4. primary myth: He resided in the east, in a land of everlasting summer and plenty, in a palace made of gold. The morning and evening auroras, known collectively as Zorya, were his daughters. In the morning, Zorya opened the palace gates to allow Dazbog to leave the palace and begin his daily journey across the sky; in the evening, Zorya closed the gates after the sun returned in the evening.
5. dvoeverie: There was a belief that each winter he would enter people's homes and gift gold to those who had been good. That belief passed into Christianity, especially in Serbia, and this visitor was called Položajnik. During Christianisation, his cult was exchanged with the cult of Saint Sava, while Dažbog became lame Daba - the most powerful demon in Hell. Reasons why he was demonized are various, possibly because his cult was the strongest in Serbia or because he was considered also as the god of Nav, the Slavic underworld and world of the dead.
In Slavic mythology: Dazbog was the Slavic sun god, a role that is common to many Indo-European people, and there is ample evidence that there was a sun cult in the pre-Christian tribes of central Europe. His name means "day god" or "giving god," to different scholars—"Bog" is generally accepted to mean "god," but Daz means either "day" or "giving."
His totem animal was a wolf, therefore wolves were sacred animals and killing them was considered a great sin. Wolves were considered to be messengers of Dazhbog, while he himself could shift into a white wolf.
According to one myth, Svarog became tired of reigning over the universe and passed on his power to his sons, Dazhbog and Svarogich.
Appearance & Reputation: Dazbog is said to ride across the sky in a golden chariot drawn by fire-breathing horses who are white, gold, silver, or diamonds. In some tales, the horses are beautiful and white with golden wings, and sunlight comes from the solar fire shield Dazbog always carries with him. At night, Dazbog wanders the sky from east to west, crossing the great ocean with a boat pulled by geese, wild ducks, and swans.
In some tales, Dazbog starts out in the morning as a young, strong man but by the evening he is a red-faced, bloated elderly gentleman; he is reborn every morning. He represents fertility, male power, and in "The Song of Igor's Campaign" he is mentioned as the grandfather of the Slavs.
4. Stribog
Very little is known about him, although he was clearly very important to early Slavic peoples. In the epic ”Slovo o polku Igorove “ it is said that the winds, the grandsons of Stribog, blow from the sea. This leads to conclusion that Stribog is imagined as an old person, since he has grandsons. The grandsons were the winds from all directions.
Eagle was the animal consecrated to Stribog. Plants consecrated to Stribog were hawthorn and oak. When pledges were made, Stribog was often warrantor. Festivities in Stribog’s honor were organized in the summer as well as in the winter. They were probably organized in the summer in order to invocate winds and rain, while in the winter they were organized in order to appease him. In the period of Christianization Stribog’s characteristics were overtaken by St. Bartholomew and Stevan vetroviti (windy).
5. Simargl/Semargl
- may be equivalent to Simurgh in Persian mythology, who is portrayed similarly (winged lion and/or dog). He can also take human form.
- God of physical fire (as opposed to celestial fire; that’s Svarog)
- He is said to be the husband of Kupalnica (or Kupalnitsa), goddess of night, from whom he got two children: Kupalo and Kostroma.
Zorya, solar goddesses who are servants or daughters of the deity Dazhbog, keep Simargl chained to the star Polaris in the constellation Ursa Minor. Should he break free and destroy this constellation, it will cause the world to end.
Why would he be worshipped in Rus’, you ask? A couple of possible answers:
a. Eastern Slavs borrowed Simargl from Sarmatian-Alanian people and worshiped him.
b. Eastern Slavs never worshiped Simargl. Just at that time, a significant number of Kiev residents were of Khazar and Sarmatian-Alanian origin. Vladimir included their deity in the pantheon to get their support.
6. Volos/Veles (also Vlas, Weles Vlasii, St. Blaise, or Blasius)
1. equivalent to: Velinas (Baltic), Varuna (Vedic), Hermes (Greek), Odin (Norse)
2. primary sources: The Tale of Igor’s Campaign, old Russian chronicles
3. primary myth: a creation myth, in which Veles abducts Mokosh (the Goddess of Summer and consort of Perun, God of Thunder). Perun and his enemy battle for the universe under a huge oak, Perun's holy tree, similar to both Greek and Norse (Yggdrasil) mythologies. The battle is won by Perun, and afterward, the waters of the world are set free and flowing.
4. dvoeverie: Velia remains a feast of the dead in old Lithuanian, celebrating the border between the world of the living and the world of the dead, with Veles operating as a role of guiding souls to the underworld. The battle between Perun (Ilija Muromets or St. Elias) and Veles (Selevkiy) is found in many different forms, but in later stories, instead of gods, they are complementary figures separated from one another by a furrow plowed by Christ, who converts them. Veles is also likely represented by St. Vlasii, depicted in Russian iconography as surrounded by sheep, cows, and goats.
In Slavic mythology: A second creation myth associated with Veles is the formation of the boundary between the underworld and the human world, a result of a treaty forged between Veles and a shepherd/magician.
In the treaty, the unnamed shepherd pledges to sacrifice his best cow to Veles and keep many prohibitions. Then he divides the human world from the wild underworld led by Veles, which is either a furrow plowed by Veles himself or a groove across the road carved by the shepherd with a knife which the evil powers cannot cross.
Veles is associated with a wide variety of powers and protectors: he is associated with poetry and wisdom, the lord of the waters (oceans, seas, ships, and whirlpools). He is both the hunter and protector of cattle and the lord of the underworld, a reflection of the Indo-European concept of the netherworld as a pasture. He is also related to an ancient Slavic cult of the deceased soul; the ancient Lithuanian term "welis" means "dead" and "welci" means "dead souls."
Appearance & Reputation: Veles is generally portrayed as a bald human man, sometimes with bull horns on his head. In the epic creation battle between Velos and Perun, however, Veles is a serpent or dragon lying in a nest of black wool or on a black fleece beneath the World Tree; some scholars have suggested he was a shape-shifter. In addition to domestic horses, cows, goats, and sheep, Veles is associated with wolves, reptiles, and black birds (ravens and crows).
Reports: The earliest reference to Veles is in the Rus-Byzantine Treaty of 971, in which the signers must swear by Veles' name. Violators of the treaty are warned of a menacing punishment: they will be killed by their own weapons and become "yellow as gold," which some scholars have interpreted as "cursed with a disease." If so, that would imply a connection to the Vedic god Varuna, also a cattle god who could send diseases to punish miscreants.
7. Mokosh
1. loosely comparable to: Gaia, Hera (Greek), Juno (Roman), Astarte (Semitic)
2. epithets: Goddess Who Spins Wool, Mother Moist Earth, Flax Woman
3. primary sources: Nestor Chronicle (a.k.a. Primary Chronicle), Christian-recorded Slavic tales
4. dvoeverie: With the coming of Christianity into the Slavic countries in the 11th century CE, Mokosh was converted to a saint, St. Paraskeva Pyanitsa (or possibly the Virgin Mary), who is sometimes defined as the personification of the day of Christ's crucifixion, and others a Christian martyr. Described as tall and thin with loose hair, St. Paraskeva Pyanitsa is known as "l'nianisa" (flax woman), connecting her to spinning. She is the patroness of merchants and traders and marriage, and she defends her followers from a range of diseases.
In Slavic mythology: The origins of Mokosh as mother earth may date to pre-Indo-European times (Cuceteni or Tripolye culture, 6th–5th millennia BCE) when a near-global woman-centered religion is thought to have been in place. Some scholars suggest she may be a version of Finno-Ugric sun goddess Jumala.
Mokosh, sometimes transliterated as Mokoš and meaning "Friday," is Moist Mother Earth and thus the most important (or sometimes only) goddess in the religion. As a creator, she is said to have been discovered sleeping in a cave by a flowering spring by the spring god Jarilo, with whom she created the fruits of the earth. She is also the protector of spinning, tending sheep, and wool, patron of merchants and fishermen, who protects cattle from plague and people from drought, disease, drowning, and unclean spirits.
Although the Great Goddess has a variety of consorts, both human and animal, in her role as a primary Slavic goddess, Mokosh is the moist earth goddess and is set against (and married to) Perun as the dry sky god. Some Slavic peasants felt it was wrong to spit on the earth or beat it. During the Spring, practitioners considered the earth pregnant: before March 25 ("Lady Day"), they would neither construct a building or a fence, drive a stake into the ground or sow seed. When peasant women gathered herbs they first lay prone and prayed to Mother Earth to bless any medicinal herbs.
Appearance & Reputation: Surviving images of Mokosh are rare—although there were stone monuments to her beginning at least as long ago as the 7th century. A wooden cult figure in a wooded area in the Czech Republic is said to be a figure of her. Historical references say she had a large head and long arms, a reference to her connection with spiders and spinning. Symbols associated with her include spindles and cloth, the rhombus (a nearly global reference to women's genitals for at least 20,000 years), and the Sacred Tree or Pillar.There are many goddesses in the various Indo-European pantheons who reference spiders and spinning. Historian Mary Kilbourne Matossian has pointed out that the Latin word for tissue "textere" means "to weave," and in several derivative languages such as Old French, "tissue" means "something woven." The act of spinning, suggests Matossian, is to create body tissue. The umbilical cord is the thread of life, transmitting moisture from the mother to the infant, twisted and coiled like the thread around a spindle. The final cloth of life is represented by the shroud or "winding sheet," wrapped around a corpse in a spiral, as thread loops around a spindle.
Our brief survey of agrarian holidays indicates that the peasant’s central concern is fertility and that special rites in the cemetery and/or rites involving a symbolic death & resurrection are a major component in these celebrations.
Belief in the absolute sanctity of “Mother Damp Earth” (Mat’syra zemlia) has been central to folk belief throughout the centuries. In remote areas, old people observed a ritual of asking the earth’s forgiveness prior to death into the 20th century. A number of scholars have maintained that peasants transferred attributes of earth worship to their particular veneration of Mary as “Mother of God.”
Fedotov: “At every step in studying Russian popular religion, one meets the constant longing for a great divine female power, be it embodied in the image of Mary or someone else. Is it too daring to hypothesize, on the basis of this religious propensity, the scattered elements of the cult of a Great Goddess who once...reigned upon the immense Russian plains?”
#Russian fairy tales#study blog#my notes#Slavic deities#slavic mythology#Russian paganism#russian folk belief
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Secret Mission in Marley:
Involving: Petra Ral and Levi Ackerman.
Summary: the scene takes place when the survey corps infiltrated Marley undercover some years after Eren and his friends reached the sea. In this version, the special operations squad (or Levi squad) didn’t die and won against the female titan, the major difference is that Levi isn’t their captain and squad leader. It is instead Petra squad; she is a veteran soldier whereas Levi is an Eldian from Marley living in the continent. The humanity’s strongest soldier in Paradis is Mikasa Ackerman whereas the humanity’s strongest warrior in Marley is Levi Ackerman. They didn’t know each other until the survey corps leader Hanji Zoë sent their best hope to infiltrate the Marleyan recruits, Petra Ral.
Point of view: Petra’s.
-> Italic font = flashback
PS: I drew something for one specific moment, hope you’ll like it!
Hanji sent me a letter yesterday, they said it’s important to remember who we really are. I think she is right; identity is the exact reason for which the human VS titan war began a long time ago. To know who we are, where we belong, and where we go makes the difference to such a point that people are ready to die for it.
War is awful. And yet, here we are. Repeating the same old mistakes again and again. I should say that Hanji’s opinion is incredibly brave, I saw them overworking to prevent direct conflict, they always preconized discussion. Unfortunately, it’s not the most common opinion, it’s so much easier to give in to fear. That’s why Hanji sent me here, in Marley, I have to find a way to stop that war. I know it’s not a one-person job but little by little, step by step we will find a solution. I’m looking forward for a bright future.
I remember the very first time I came here in Marley, we were all startled. We saw things we never could have imagined in Paradis. It was a brand-new world full of possibilities or that’s what I thought because I learned that even here terror was reigning. I fully experienced it when I joined the Marleyan warriors two months ago, it was very complicated to make me enter but Hanji managed to get an accomplice from the new Eldian Resistance Group and with their help I could join the recruits with a yellow armband. Soon enough I got to get along with Marleyan and honorary Marleyans, they were not that different from us. We had the same dreams, the same histories, we were human after all regardless our origins. However, this was something Marleyan people couldn’t accept for many reasons… the main being power.
I didn’t think my life would change briskly but it did happen. One of the nine original titan owner died, he was named Porco Galliard and I was selected to inherit his titan overnight, it was 2 weeks ago. The jaw titan. It was one honorary Marleyan Captain who handpicked me, Levi Ackerman. He has that peculiar expressionless face you can’t forget for sure. The thing I noticed about him is that he wears a red armband which means he’s also a titan shifter. But which one I still don’t know. I remember what he said back then to his higher up when he pointed his finger at me
“I want her in my team. I think she is able to get Galliard’s titan.”
I remember how the man he was talking to didn’t argue and congratulated me for my efforts. After handshaking, I experienced one of the most traumatic thing in my life which was to eat someone as a titan. That’s when Captain Ackerman kind of took care of me when I joined his team.
Thanks to this, I was becoming even closer to my goal even if it meant deceiving him and the other people I met, I had no choice; my fate was already decided, and I couldn’t give it up right now.
“That’s weird.”
“Uh? What are you talking about, Captain?” I answered.
“You seem pretty quiet today, that’s not like yours. You’re usually such a crappy chatterbox.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I was just lost in my thoughts.”
“Well…”
The thing is, I just remembered the first time we walked here together. The situation was… a mess, actually he nearly discovered who I really was.
As we were taking a strolling together in city, I couldn’t resist observing everything around me to the point it got suspicious. It was my first time in here. Liberio was lively, and people were preparing the fair looking forward the head of the Tybur family speech in a few days.
I didn’t notice at first, but I felt Levi’s glare on me as if he were thinking of something about me. I should say ever since I entered his team, he’s been keeping an eye on me as if he suspected something, but I hope I’m just being paranoiac. The second following that mere thought happened to answer to my question.
Without the time to think, I was carried away in a narrow street, Levi blocked me against the wall holding a knife at my neck. Was he… intimidating me?
“Okay ginger, you’re gonna tell me every single thing about you.” He said with a threatening voice.
“Eh… I mean… if you want to get to know me better… there are other ways… you know…” I nervously laughed. I was totally in distress because I knew he knew something but I couldn’t… no I didn’t want to admit it.
“Don’t play dumb with me… who are you? I’ve been watching your awkward behavior.” he kept asking.
“I’ll tell you if you promise to not kill me.”
“Why would I f*ucking do that? To leave you wandering around with bad intentions. No way. I could put an end to your life right now and no one would know.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Do you forget I have the jaw titan? Besides, I don’t fear death. You’re too late.”
“Whoever you are, I promise to discover it as soon as possible. Now walk.”
After a moment of reflection, Levi pulled me out of the wall by griping my collar and made me walk toward the principal avenue. He hid his knife from people’s glare pretending to be unharming.
Fortunately that day he spared me… well he never told he knew I was from Paradis, but I still think he keeps suspecting me anyway. Suddenly Captain Levi stops himself and I look back to understand what was going on. Without asking, Levi lifts up my chin and says
“Stop driving attention to us, Eldian”
Eldian? Did he say Eldian? Then… he finally guessed after all. It was useless to deny it right now.
“Y-yes…”
“The way you kept saying “soldier” instead of “warrior” was a hint ya know… but you successfully deceived us all. Congrats.”
“Well… what are you going to do with me now?”
“What am I gonna do of your shitty ass? I really don’t know.” He finally said after a long sigh. As we resumed our little stroll, I couldn’t resist to ask
“You could have denounced me a long time ago. Then why?”
He didn’t answer as if he didn’t know what to say either. But then he lifts up his eyes toward the sky with a pensive expression.
“I actually suspected you from the beginning, but I didn’t want to believe it. Besides, I was the only one. You’re good at it I guess…”
#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan#rivetra#petra ral#levi x petra#levipetra#levi ackerman#aot#petra x levi#marleyan warriors
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JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 4: IN THE REIGN OF TERROR: THE ADVENTURES OF A WESTMINSTER BOY(1888)
1. The Introduction
Well hello there again, dearest readers! I’m back at it again and this time I brought you something more obscure.
Honestly, I would’ve never found out about this book had I not seen the category for books set in the French Revolution era on Wikipedia after a deliberate google search.
“In the Reign of Terror” is an adventure novel aimed at young boys that was published in 1888 by one G. A. Henty, an English novelist who has other adventure novels to his name too, but today we’ll only take a look at this one.
It’s available on Project Gutenberg in the ebook format and is in public domain so it’s free to download, which is how I obtained the book.
2. The Summary
The book takes place in the French Revolution era, specifically from 1790 to about 1792. It tells the story of Harry Sandwith, a boy whose physician father sends him from London to Burgundy to live with Marquis de St. Caux and his family.
As the brother of the Marquis had been cured by Harry’s father during his stay in London, the entire arrangement was his idea. The Marquis himself also believes that by having an English companion, his sons can learn a lot about English customs while Harry learns the language and the traditions of France.
But as the Revolution is drawing nearer than ever, clouds gather above the heads of Harry’s host family and Harry himself...
This is the basic premise of the story, but how did the finished product turn out? Let’s find that out for ourselves, Citizens!
3. The Story
Now, at first the story itself seems a bit implausible on the level of the premise. The Marquis believes that his sons should learn a thing or two about masculinity and sports from Harry, as English boys are supposedly more manly than their “feminine” French peers.
I find it hard to believe that a French nobleman would think this way but I was still willing to suspend my disbelief somewhat because Anglophiles do exist and despite the rivalry between France and the UK, the two countries did borrow bits and pieces of culture from each other.
Here’s the part that gave me pause and kind of ruined the experience for me. The entire book reeks of a sense of English superiority. Harry, the main character, is English and is portrayed as the bravest, strongest and most masculine member of the cast, while his French companions, Ernest and Jules, the sons of the Marquis, are basically treated like feminine “sissies”.
(Spoiler alert!)
For example, in the beginning of Harry’s adventures, the daughters of the Marquis are attacked by a rabid dog and who saves them? Harry, of course. This is one of the instances where the author demonstrates how strong English boys are and this is the moment after which Harry is finally seen as an equal by the noble siblings.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for patriotism and taking pride in your country. I’m Russian and proud of it. However, too much pride and you get this obnoxious sense of superiority. If you need a prime example of how that usually plays out, look at the Axis during WW2.
What Henty chooses to portray is specifically a sense of superiority. Characters like Harry’s father take pride in the fact that England has less strict class divisions, that apparently English commoners have already obtained more liberties while the French peasants are merely a mob of bloodthirsty savages, etc.
Don’t know about you, Citizens, but I really don’t like such narratives shoved in my face and considering how often this nationalism shows up, I had a lot of trouble getting through the story.
I’m all for healthy patriotism that acknowledges the good and the bad in one’s country but this is just too much nationalism for me and I believe that the book would’ve been more enjoyable without this narrative showing up every couple of pages or so like jumpscares in a bad horror movie.
4. The Characters
I know this was the 19th century so the audiences were probably not pampered with complex stories and characters as much yet, but honestly I didn’t find Harry a truly likable and relatable protagonist.
(Spoiler alert!)
He starts out as a pretty average school student but while in France he proves to be heroic - killing a rabid dog, slaying a man eating wolf (not completely by himself) and generally always proving himself to be the manly hero that Ernest and Jules can never be. Basically it was easy to predict that he will emerge from any trouble victorious so I didn’t have many reasons to be worried about him.
The sons and the daughters of the Marquis all end up liking him. Too much may I add.
In short, I personally got a bit of Harry Stu vibe. 😉
He does have one glaring flaw that unfortunately doesn’t do him any favors in my eyes. The English superiority complex that the author expresses in the story shines in Harry brighter than the Sun. He doesn’t express much empathy either.
(Spoiler alert!)
When Harry saves a man from getting attacked by an assassin and sees that the man is scared out of his mind, the first thing Harry feels towards him is disdain for apparently being a “pussy”. Um, hello, Harry?! How would you react if you got attacked out of the blue! Not everyone is as “strong and manly” as you are!
Then Harry also regrets saving the man when it turns out to be Robespierre. Our protagonist, dear Citizens!
Speaking of Robespierre, here (and this goes for most French characters) he is portrayed as a weak feeble “sissy”, thirsty for blood but neat and frugal in outfit and lifestyle, someone who won’t hesitate to have half of France slaughtered. Of course. 🙄
The female characters are bland helpless ingénues. Also typical of the literature of the time period.
By the way, Robespierre is the only revolutionary who is actually featured in the story. Marat and Danton are mentioned but it’s all negative in their department too, especially when it comes to Marat.
The Parisian crowd is little more than a bloodthirsty mob of savage uneducated peasants ready to slaughter all nobles just because they’re well, nobles.
Honestly, nothing new here.
5. The Setting
Honestly, I feel like there weren’t that many descriptions and those that were present simply weren’t vivid enough to immerse myself into the story. Too many descriptions are bad too, of course, but here the opposite happens - too little descriptions so sometimes the surroundings feel like vacuum and there’s not enough world building to imagine yourself in that era, beside the characters.
It’s all just bland caricatured setting one would expect from an amateur puppet show at daycare.
Remember, dear Citizens. Even if you write about your own era and country, world building is extremely important so please don’t underestimate the power of good and vivid descriptions, just use them in moderation.
Anyway, onto the final point.
6. The Conclusion
Despite all the drawbacks, I didn’t quite hate the book. I simply think it could’ve been written a lot better, without shoving the supposed superiority of England in our faces, without bland characters, without the unlikeable protagonist, without cardboard settings and definitely without machismo and layers upon layers of Thermidorian propaganda.
I wouldn’t recommend this story unless you really want to kill time and have nothing else to do.
With that in mind, allow me to conclude the fourth meeting of our Convention. Stay tuned for the announcement of the topic of the next meeting and have a good day, Citizens.
Love,
- Citizen Green Pixel
#in the reign of terror: the adventures of a westminster boy#french revolution#frev#history#maximilien robespierre#robespierre#jacobin fiction convention#jean paul marat#georges danton#french history#obscure frev media#frev media#novels#review
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There Are No Wolves In the Desert
( Oberyn Martell x f!reader, Robb Stark x f!reader)
Part 1 - The Wolf and The Outsider
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Summary: The series of events that have lead to you being in Dorne and why you can never return home.
Authors notes: Oberyn is not in this chapter but he will be in all subsequent chapters! This part is mainly context corner to build up the character! The reader is a distant relative of the Targaryens but I only mention hair colour and eye colour everything else will remain non- descript! Let me know if you want to be tagged (or untagged) in this story 😊😊
Tw: Swearing, violence, mentions of and allusion to sex (none depicted), war, murder the usual GOT stuff, major character death (I wonder who it could be👀👀)
Word count: 5.7k
Tagged: @evyiione
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Kings landing
Cersei tilts her head, eyes thinning as she gazes out over kings landing, the moon illuminating the gold plated roofs of the upper class, the stench of the poor unable to reach her here. Jamie sits on the bed she had shared with her late husband, slowly re-donning the white armour of the king's guard. He turns watching as the summer breeze blows the ends of her golden hair. His shin guard is clipped into place just as three short knocks sound out against the wooden door, filling the quiet air of the night. Sighing loudly Jamie stands up to answer the door, a smile forming on Cersei’s lips as she trunks to greet the visitor.
“Littlefinger, to what do we owe the displeasure,” Jamie asks, sarcasm dripping off every word.
“Funny… I thought knights usually waited outside the bedchamber of those they swore a sacred oath to protect,” he queries smiling, the candlelight illuminating his prominent front teeth.
“Is it done,” Cersei asks through her teeth, tiring of the man’s desperate attempts to hold some semblance of power.
“Yes. Not a soul left alive that isn’t loyal to house Baratheon... or is Lannister perhaps more apt. The north is ours for the taking now the young wolf has fallen, and Sansa is under control here.”
“What of his wife?” she asks, walking towards a nearby table, decanting wine into a goblet turning with eyebrows raised. Littlefinger was not the only one in Kings landing with ears everywhere. She had heard a rumour, one she wished to squash as soon as she can.
“His widow, you mean,” Jamie states from the door frame, dissatisfied at being left out of the conversation.
“Gone, left in the wee hours of the morning from what I heard,” Cersei says, eyes staring into Littlefinger’s, locked in a strategic game of mental chess.
“So she’s alive, ” Jamie adds, despite his previous statement being ignored.
“Not for long,” Littlefinger states , brushing him off.
“Who saw her leave?” Cersei demands, a hint of concern slipping through as she swirls her wine around in the glass.
“No one left alive,” Littlefinger reassures
“So she's...” Cersei begins,
“She’s set to land in Dorne two days from now, she will be dealt with when she arrives. She is…inconsequential.” Littlefinger finishes.
“And so ends the reign of the wolves,” Jamie remarks, as Cersei raises her glass toasting the gods.
Dorne (2 days later)
You watch the docks appear along the horizon as the ship begins to reduce its speed. The sea spray from the trip spattered across your skin was yet to dry, cooling you off, as the southern sun bares down onto you. You lick your lips, the salty taste leaves you parched in a heat the likes of which you’d never known. You’d never been to Dorne, though you’d heard stories of it’s fair weather, people and architecture, and you were eager to see if they held true. You’d heard the wine here was the sweetest the world had to offer, you planned on returning home with some, even if Dorne was merely a stopover. It was not a honeymoon you were here for, no you were here to complete a task of utmost importance. You came in search of the so-called dragon queen at the behest of your husband. He wanted to see if the rumours were true and if they were he hoped to make an ally of her. He had sent you in hopes that your shared lineage, though distant, would work in his favour. The Targaryens held family in high regard, especially with so few of them remaining. You smile as the shore comes into view, the birds above singing to your arrival. The golden hues of the late afternoon sun paint the tents of the markets in the docks. A sense of bliss rolls over you as the crew ties the ship to the dock. It would be one of the last moments of peace you would know for some time. Your feet make contact with the ground, legs wobbling slightly at being back on solid ground. You stumble slightly and a man with a blue beard catches your elbow.
“Winter is coming,” he whispers and you look up as he discreetly passes you a note. You open it. The letter is long and the script rushed, but seven words stand out ‘the King in the North has fallen’ the sheet slips from your fingers and you drop to your knees. “Quick, we haven’t much time,” he says dragging you up, as the first arrow pierces the sky, hitting the captain of your ship in the neck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Winterfell, 7 years prior (age 17)
You had always stood out in the north, a caveat of the family you were born into, all of you were outsiders here. Your grandfather was a Targaryen, second cousin to the mad king and when war broke out he led a small rebellion that tried to push back the Baratheon troops storming the capitol, but to no avail. Your father and his brothers were there that day, fighting alongside him, but they were outnumbered, and no amount of skill would keep the combined Starks and the Baratheon forces at bay. After the capitol was taken, your grandfather was hanged and your grandmother took your father and his brother and feld while Robert butchered any descendents of the Targaryen line that would weaken his claim to the throne. Your father had split from his family opting to head north, while they trekked south. He never saw them again. Upon his arrival in Winterfell he built a small homestead outside the city walls and sought work, thankfully the distinctive hair and eye colour had skipped him and he could blend in with the northerners. He found work as a stone mason, crafting formidable architecture admired and paid for by the nobility. The payments allowed him to move up the social ladder and while he remained in the forest he had gained the respect of the elite and was accepted as one of them. His hands soon grew tired of creating. They craved the weight of a sword and so he gave up masonry and offered his services to Ned Stark. Your father became a confidant to the King in the North as he moved up through the ranks. He ended up training many of the soldiers, and for a while, even Ned’s own sons. His proximity to the crown brought him into the path of your mother.
A ball was held in celebration of their eldest child's first name day and your mother was in attendance representing the Tyrells. He spotted her across the room, and to this day he swears the sun shone down on her despite being inside a hall. He approached her that night and they married during the long summer, your brother Illirion was born a year later, then a year after that it was your turn. Their final child, your youngest brother Rhaevar was born two years after you, thus completing your family unit. While the honeyed eyes and dark toned hair of the Tyrells presented well with your brothers, the Targaryen traits that had initially skipped your father came through in your genetic composition. Your hair was as white as the snow that came to the north during the winter, and your eyes a lilac similar to the foxgloves that grew in the spring. You attended a local school until you reached the age where girls were no longer allowed to study. Whilst there you heard whispers from the other children. Every now and then a comment of “murderer” or “traitor” would be shot your way, much to your confusion. It wouldn’t be until years later than your parents would tell you why such comments were made. After school ended officially you continued your education at home and studied the methods of healing that your mother had been trained in while in Highgarden.
Your father insisted all his children learn how to defend themselves, the north was a dangerous place after all, and the threat of war loomed large. The stability between kingdoms was teetering, it had been peaceful for too long, a storm was coming. You’d proven to be of high talent, had it not been for your eldest brother's size you would have been the strongest fighter in the family. Illirion married at 18 to a noble girl of high status, and it wasn't long after that you lost many of your friends to marriage. Some of the pairing were good, some bad and some even for love. Despite being propositioned a few times, you had no interest in being a bride.Your parents did not mind now that your brother had secured a wife and would be able to care for you once they passed. Your father also had it on good authority that you all were to be cared for so long as a Stark sat at Winterfell.
You were acquainted with the family since childhood, though outside of parties you rarely saw them. During the gatherings you and Sansa often gossiped together and Arya would sneak you into the courtyard and beg you to train her. The time spent with them was greatly cherished. Their brothers were often gone during such events, off showcasing their prowess to girls of higher status than you, women who would one day be their wives. Little did you know, Jon and Robb had been told to stay away from you so as not to ruin your reputation. That rule had been followed until one day when a particularly cruel comment from a noble girl sent Arya running directly into your path.
You were out tracking a wolf that had killed one of your family's horses. It wasn’t revenge you sought, but its attack on your homestead meant it was getting closer to town, and growing far too bold for your liking. You’d stopped your trek once you realized it was headed back towards the wall. Approaching your house you see Arya sitting on a log outside your house near the fire pit. Her feet swinging, intermittently kicking at the dirt below.
���Arya?” you question placing your gear down on the ground as she turns to face you, her nose running, eye slightly red.
“Is Rhaevar around? I wish to play” she demands, her childlike nature apparent now more than ever.
“I’m afraid he’s gone off in search of the children of the forest, but perhaps we can find something to do together?” you offer sitting beside her, she was upset, evidently so.
“I have no want to stitch,” she huffs, causing you to laugh at her attempt to insult you.
“Good neither do I. I’m no good at it anyways,” you admit and she looks up at you “Well what do you wish, Arya? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
“I wish to know how to shoot my arrow so it hits the target every time. I don’t care what Robb says, Jon thinks I can do it so I want to try.”
“Well, I can help with that, come I’ll show you a trick. You’ll hit it every time. Prove your eldest brother wrong,” your comment earns a rare grin from the youngest Stark daughter. After a few goes she gets the hang of it, hitting your practice targets one after the other.
“By the gods,” you chuckle, you’d never seen such natural talents before. Caught up in your admiration of her gift you fail to catch her turning to aim at a farther target still. The arrow soars through the air as two horses approach your homestead, the arrow only just missing them.
“Arya!” you shout, grabbing her arm “You must be careful!” you exasperate as she looks up to you her mouth ajar. The sound of the horses fast approaching.
“Get behind me,” you murmur, pushing in front of her and aiming the bow true.
“It’s Robb!” she shouts, pushing against you attempting to make a run for it. Despite her efforts to throw you off balance you manage to grab her arm, dropping your weapons in the process.
“Why are you running?” you ask, not releasing your grip on her scrawny arm.
“Because I don’t fit in!” she finally admits.
“Well a secret Arya, no one fits in, we're all different, it's what keeps life interesting and what will keep you alive in your years to come,” you say watching as she stops struggling a softness suddenly coming over her features.
“She said I had a face like a dog,” she whispers, chewing on her lip, eyes down. The cruelty of children was always surprising to you.
“Well I’d find it hard to find someone who does not see the tenderness of a pup, or the strength and beauty of a dire wolf. Either way, You have talents, beyond what beauty can measure, ones that will never abandon you,” you reassure. She sniffs and looks up at you offering a rare smile. You see her shift back into her tough persona, the scowl returning to her face as she runs towards the horses belonging to her brother and who you assumed must be his ward Theon. You watch the eldest Stark, now two years your senior drop down allowing Theon to help Arya, as he strides towards you.
“We’d be lucky to have you in our ranks, if you can teach her to nearly take my head off from a mile away,” he laughs, easing your nervousness slightly, his northern accent heavier than you had remembered.
“I did remind your sister to be more careful lest she be tried for treason, or worse yet, get me tried for treason. As for my services, they are always at the will of the Starks, if you wish me to join the army who am I to refuse,” you say, tilting your head and offering him a smile.
“Women are not allowed in our ranks, lest of all those who look like you,” he charms, an unexpected compliment from a man you rarely got the opportunity to speak with.
“Not yet, but rules are meant to be broken after all my Lord.” You retort, eyes meeting his steel grey gaze causing an unexpected chill to run down your spine.
“Are they?” he laughs, the warmth of it causing a sudden heat to rise within you, counteracting his gaze.
“You should remind your mother of that when you return Arya to her,” you offer, as he hands you the arrow that almost took off his head.
“Thank you for returning my sister, wolves have been prowling about, heaven forbid they got to her before us,” he says, concern etched in his face.
“The wolves have moved north, I do not believe they will return this way, and Arya is stronger than you give her credit for,” you assure, his brows raising at your competence.
“I know, and I think she does too, I fear she’ll outlive us all,” he offers, rubbing the back of his neck, the two of you standing there for a moment, the smirk that usually danced replaced by a nervous grin. His head dips down before turning back to the horse, but he stops one last time swivelling round to face you.
“My lady,” he calls after you.
“Yes my lord,” you say, turning back to face him.
“I look forward to our next meeting,” he offers sincerely.
“As do I,” you say curtseying in such a way to make him smile before you both head back towards your respective homes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2 years later (age 19)
“What is it?” you ask your father as you lay down your quiver and the pair of small pheasants you’d brought home for dinner. He takes a long drag of his pipe, gaze glued to the treeline. “Father tell me?” you stress, knowing he only ever smoked when bad news had arrived.
“Illirion, he’s...” He stammers and drops his head letting out a strangled sob. You shake your head at the suggestion. Your brother had gone down to kings landing a week ago to serve as a bodyguard to Ned Stark who had been summoned at the behest of King Robert Baratheon. Arya and Sansa had gone with them, leaving Catelyn and the boys in Winterfell, Robb currently ruling in his place.
“Ned Stark would never allow…” you begin, sure your father had once again fallen trap to the rumour mill.
“He’s dead, they’re all dead, all of them...” he whispers, dropping his head to his hands.
“What happened tell me everything,” you stress, pushing your own sentiments aside for the moment.
“Beheaded, Ned for treason, for the murder of Robert Baratheon, his greatest friend, unlikely story. They killed your brother as Ned’s head fell. Arya, is missing, presumed dead, Sansa is a prisoner, to be wedded to that horrible snot nosed inbred Joffrey.” He continues in fragmented sentences.
“Mother?” you question.
“She’s in bed still, hasn’t left, I dare not tell her the worst of it,” he admits tear streaked eyes meeting yours.
“What the worst of it?” you ask, unable to think what could possibly be worse. “Lean on me father, there is no else left for you to confide in, lend me some of the burden,” you stress rubbing his arm in encouragement.
“War is upon us and each family must provide a soldier. Since my knee… I am no longer able to fight, the Starks know this. So your youngest brother…” he starts, but a sob catches in his throat stopping him.
“He can’t go, he’s too…” you begin, swallowing as you try to think of the right word.
“Soft” your father offers.
“No, he’s just not skilled enough, at least not in the ways of the sword. Skilled as he is as a mason he wouldn’t last a minute on the battlefield,” you pause, only one path was clear to you “Let me go in his place,” You say, before you have time to process what you had just offered to do.
“No,” your father says without hesitation.
“Let me go and you may end this life with two of three children. If he goes, I will be the only one left and I could not bear it,” you say pushing back tears at the thought of losing another brother.
“Your mother...” he begins
“Knows I was the best fighter. I had the best teacher in all the seven kingdoms after all,” you say nudging him with your elbow. He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, before pulling you into a tight embrace.
“When do I leave?” you ask.
“Tonight. It’s a good thing your brother isn’t tall, his armour will fit you, take this helmet. Do not remove it, keep your hood up, any trouble and cut off their cocks, or else I will.”
“I'll see you again, I swear it,” you state, with every intent of keeping your promise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The battle rages forward, men fall around you, but you refuse to meet a similar fate today. Your sword penetrates through the opening of a Lannister’s armour turning quickly to slice the backs of the knees of another soldier, both falling in tandem. You hear a horse whinny on your left and you turn to see Robb Stark fall from his horse becoming trapped beneath the dying creature. You weave throughout the battle towards him. Your blade intercepts the longsword of an enemy soldier just as it’s about to penetrate Robbs armour. You drop your shield to Robb and you push up against the attacker. Releasing your force he falls forward and Robb pushes the shield up hitting the man’s face swinging his head back. Grabbing the man by his hair you slit his throat. You drop your sword and pull Robb out from beneath the horse. He grabs your shoulders giving you nod before returning to the forefront of the battle. As the horn of retreat sounds you celebrate the victory with those around you, surviving the first of many attacks.
You're walking back to the tents when you hear a familiar voice call out to you.
“You, wait,” Robb demands, chuckling with those around him. You continue on your path hoping he was talking to someone else. “It is not wise to disobey your king.” He sounds out again, forcing you to turn towards him.
“Come now friend, we mean no harm. I wish to look upon the face of the man who saved me and invite him to ride alongside me.” he states.
“Perhaps he is too ugly to show his face, my lord,” one of his lieutenants states causing a laugh to erupt from the surrounding crowd of men except for Robb. Though a slight smile pulls at the corner of his mouth breaking the cold façade he’d donned since his father’s death. A moment passes then another until the silence is so prolonged you have no other option but to obey. Slowly you lift your helmet up your eyes meeting his for the first time in a year.
“A prize for the army, my lord?” one of the men questions, hungrily eyeing you up as he fervently steps towards you. Robb's arm stops him in his tracks and you draw your blade.
“Touch me and risk losing more than just your hand, I have fought alongside you. I am your equal. You will treat me as such,” you demand, your voice unwavering despite the uneasiness in your stomach.
“You have a cunt, you are not our equal, though perhaps in bed…” another from the crowd offers.
“Stop! Leave us” Robb orders, and the men retreat back towards the camp ground the sound of laughter and whistles picking up once out of range.
“I did tell you rules were meant to be broken,” you say, watching as he tries to suppress a smile.
“Well they certainly have been now” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Are you going to hang me, my lord? Or is it my King now?” you question, a bolder move than you should have felt comfortable making.
“To you it's Robb and no I am not going to hang you, but you are going to come with me,” he says offering you his arm which you brush by looking back at him to follow.
“How have you come to be here? Does your father know?” Catelyn stresses,eyes growing wide as she scans over you assessing the damage.
“My lady, yes, he does. You see when the war was announced and after my brother’s death, we knew someone from our family would have to fight. My father’s leg as you know isn’t... as it used to be, and my younger brother while talented in many ways, cannot hold a blade to save his life. My mother’s grief was already far too much for her to lose another child.” You say, eyes risking tears as she meets her gaze.
“So they sent you?” she explains to herself.
“Yes my lady I was the best fighter in the family, or the most skilled at least.”
“Well, we will not make your brother come to fight, but you cannot stay in the army,” she explains softly, hand running up and down your arms in reassurance.
“She saved my life today,” Robb interjects and Cat looks at you as you look at him.
“Then I am indebted to you.” She expresses.
“As am I,” Robb states the two of you not having dropped eye contact, much to the notice of Cat.
“Lady Catelyn, I am a capable fighter, but if you will not allow me to so, at least allow me to tend to the wounded or to serve you in some other manner. I am here after all, put me to use.” you say and she lets out a sigh.
“Well, if you believe yourself able to defend yourself, and if what my son says is true then I would be remiss to send you home, though you will not sleep out with the rest of the army, you will stay with me.” she says.
“And during the battle you will remain close to me,” Robb stresses “not for your protection, but for mine”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1 year later (Age 20)
Robb watches as you kill another soldier, the sight never failing to impress him. You had remained close over the past year, both in and out of the battlefield. He kept you close at all costs, your company bringing him some semblance of joy, even in his darkest moments. Rumours swirled amongst the men and the other kingdoms, though nothing between the two of you had come to fruition. Due to the colour of your hair, the enemy soldiers had dubbed you the white wolf, in an attempt to link the Starks with the treacherous Targaryens. While the insinuations at your extracurricular activities with Robb pushed the narrative that he was impure, that northerners were savages, who did not abide by the values of the seven kingdoms.
As you wipe the blood from your eyes, an arrow catches you in the shoulder, the force knowing you back into a tree. Robb is at your side in record time, his hand stopping yours from pulling the weapon out.
���Medic!” he shouts, eyes not leaving yours.
“Go! you need to lead your people, I will be fine,” you emphasize and he shakes his head “Robb, it is a shoulder, nothing of importance lives there.”
“No but it is attached to something of the utmost importance.”
“Go you have a war to win,” you state as the medic helps you to your feet and brings you back across the line.
You sit in Robbs tent, despite your insistence at being treated in the same manner as the other soldiers, he had demanded you be brought there instead. A skilled nurse had removed the arrow from your shoulder just as you heard the rambunctious cheers of the men outside, victory had been secured. Unsurprising considering Robbs keen strategic mind, he was smarter than you'd have accredited him for in your youth. He enters the tent blood spatter still on his face, seeing you alive and fine he takes the moment to remove his armour. He pulls his undershirt off and walks to the water basin wiping himself clean of the sweat and grim coating his skin. Your eyes watch his bare skin intently, studying every scar, every freckle. He grabs a fresh cloth dunking it the basin and wringing it out before heading over to you. He kneels before you, staring up at you eyes telling you to drop the blood soaked rag currently held to your wound, and you oblige.
“I must confess I long hoped to share an intimate moment with you, though these circumstances are not as I imagined,” he says, gently dabbing at your wound, you smile at his concentration.
“And under what circumstances would you have hoped to be intimate with me, my king? At one of your fancy parties, in the secrecy of a barn, somewhere no one would know you had been with a Targaryen girl.” You ask trying to keep your eyes forwards and not at his muscular physique.
“Every man in Winterfell had dreamed of sharing a moment like that with you, though none have found any luck,” he says, standing up and walking back over to the basin.
“I have no need for a husband nor do I have the want to be wife,” you say, watching the muscles of his arm flex as he wrigns out the rag.
“and what about a queen?” he queries, as his hand braces against your thigh, continuing to clean your wound, his eyes still focused on the gash.
“Do you ask all your foot soldiers such bold questions,” you quip, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
“Only the ones naked in my chambers,” he retorts, eyes darting up a grin plastered to his face.
“A bare shoulder is hardly naked in your chambers,” you state, and he raises his eyebrows mischievously.
“My fondness for you was never allowed,” he admits, dabbing the cloth into a salve and applying it to the wound.
“Oh wasn’t it,” you ask as he looks up to you
“No, my mother feared one of us would ruin you,”
“A Targaryen In the north, perhaps it was fear of you boys being ruined.” you laugh, but when you look at him the tone has shifted.
‘When that arrow hit you, my feelings were confirmed, I no longer wish to be more than a few feet from you at any given moment. I wish to marry you. If you'll allow me”
“Don’t be stupid my king, you’re to be married to a princess from what I understand.”
“I'll be married to whom I please” he assures.
“Robb is that wise?” you question, unfamiliar with the high stakes games played with marriage.
“The Frey’s will recover besides, we’ve crossed their bridge already, and I have no love for anyone but you.”
“Love? We barely know each other,” you say.
“Only our whole lives,” he reminds you.
“I fear you’ll wake up tomorrow and regret your words, so I will not answer you tonight.”
“Then I will return to these chambers tomorrow morning and restate my intentions to make you my wife.”
“What will they say if you allow me to take your bed for the night?” you ponder aloud.
“I guess we shall see” he states, slinging his bloodied shirt over his shoulder.
“Goodnight my King” you offer, watching in amusement as he attempts to find the tents exit without turning around.
“It’s Robb. For you, it's always just Robb”
True to his word he returned the next day and asked again, and this time you accepted. You married a few days later under an old willow tree, with Catelyn and a few others standing witness. The morning after your wedding you awake in his chambers, the sun yet to rise. Robb snores faintly beneath you, the warmth of the fire sending a chill up your skin that had become exposed in the night. You scan over his features, a peacefulness you hadn’t before on his face. You reach over brushing the white patch of hair amongst the mass of soft brown curls on his head. As you do his eyes open looking over to you propping himself up on his elbow and learning over to kiss your forehead.
“What is it my love?” you ask, kissing his cheek, then his lips .
“I need you to do something,” he says, serious as always.
“What we just did wasn't enough, my king? How else may I please you tonight,” you offer hands dancing across his chest, he grins shaking his head slightly.
“You have pleased me in every way imaginable for the past year, and even more tonight. This favour isn't a pleasure of the flesh however, I need you to complete a task. You’re the only one I can trust,” he states.
“You shift up to face him, the furs falling off you slightly, “find the Targaryen girl. I wish to make an ally of her, to destroy the Lannister once and for all. You are likely the only family she has left, she may listen to you.”
“I'll do what I can, and I'll do it fast, I do not wish to be parted from you for long.” you admit as his hand traces over your back.
“Take this with you, that way i'll be protecting you even while we are apart,” he leans over grabbing his dagger, the one made for him by his father, offering it to you.
“Robb I…” you begin.
“Will return it to me a fortnight from now when you come back. I suggest we make the most of tonight, so you have another reason to return to me,” he states
“I'll always return to you, even in death,” you reassure and he wraps the blanket back over you pulling you tightly to his chest. And so as Robb took his seat in the halls of Walder Frey to watch his supposed bride marry another man, you were catching a boat destined for Dorne.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Present day (Age 21)
“Come with me now Lady Stark, your life depends on it,” the stranger says, pulling you to your feet and shuffling you into a nearby tavern ushering you quickly up the stairs. You see a pile of clothes laid out on the bed and immediately strip, all notions of decency erased in favour of time.
“You must disappear, make them think you are dead,” he says, averting his eyes as you change into clothes typical of local mercenaries.
“Who killed him, what happened?” you ask, needing some kind of answers.
“There is no time, and it's safer if you do not know.” He says eyes darting from you to the door.
“I have a right to..”
“The Freys betrayed you, everyone at the wedding is dead, you have no claim to Winterfell. The Lannisters have taken the North”
“Everyone at the wedding..” you echo, sitting on the bed
“Stay here..” the blue bearded stranger says, returning a few moments later with a cloak, sword and black dye in hand, placing them down and grabbing for the clothes and the dagger on the floor, Robbs dagger.
“That stays” you stress grabbingthe dagger from his reach.
“It’s too…” he starts
“It stays, it's all I have left of him,” you whisper harsher than intended, fighting back tears. He nods and you take it from him. You grab the dye from his hand and rub it through your hair, staining it a deep ember.
“Keep your eyes down, they're the only thing we can’t disguise,” he states
“Who are you, why are you helping me?” you question memorizing the man's face.
“You share a common enemy with powerful people. You have allies here. Goodbye Lady Stark I hope we meet again,” he says, and with a swift turn he exits the tavern leaving you alone with your thoughts. You wait a moment before donning the cloak and pulling up your hood. You walk out the tavern, putting as much distance between you and the docks as possible. Keeping your eyes down as men scoured the streets for the person you once were
#oberyn x reader#oberyn martell x reader#prince oberyn x reader#robb stark x reader#oberyn x you#oberyn martell#game of thrones fanfiction#oberyn martell x you
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