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libidomechanica · 5 months ago

Text

Untitled Composition # 11881

A ballad sequence

Of things I tried to awaken. Deepening their state in compare, whaever has o’er-brimm’d the lily will take something men

should do? Quo’ her gown; she was in love enjoyment more paine. As though I adore that has washed in them, my own animals.

Which never wi’ her call was heard, and sweet, inspir’d with instance thy hook and mak’st all to the mountains light, elbows,

knees, dreams are grazing, the spot, the great song for the bed. And it mak me eerie, sir. Do dictionaries methode brings

forth, that Martha’s name, at once it bloomed like a gleaner though mounted on the skirts of vast eternity. A little

helpe to harmony with Heaven’s messenger of crimson holly-hoaks, among six boys, head up as before the primrose-

banks, and prove unto the poet’s matter; and her eyes my life began to stir? Who remembered you will, but he

may say he put his Mortal Love. For love retain. This love for even straining sunshine tinselling place where the swan.

Made one about the green, red, and fever dew on every petticoat he brush’d, and felt their carefully the phone. Nor let me prop my mind, yet in the trees and declared and disconsolate, thou seëst all heaven for its poisoned serpent

covered with someone who wanted of life, God wot, wot not what to doubt, that the forces we had returning eyes and broider the summit of the night, and smile upon her pallid cheek begins the Folding of this Ambitious thou go

with many a holy and mellow strings and what’s the time would make mad the rustling birds of the psyche driven out of books, but hitherward you speak silence with vulgar brains to knowing loue, wyll be lost. Of his deuise: they strike, and still

more, but ever wi’ her can compare, whaever has met wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ the shadows bathe me, cold are all wracked be? My braine so darke without tenderness, we are’ who might determines here, and still told

of a vanish; why shoulders, breast lie down the untill’d soil. And once deep heart of existence beat for ever. That faire after many dayes: I wonne her with a groan, more shak’d thyself with us. Of thy lawn, see all. Robert Burns: glieb o’

lan’, a claut o’ gear, was my chiefe praise, chiefe praises; or, if not, wish you had foul ones, arms, and thicker, until I heare of Poets fury tell, and, like a sweetbread fr an old grandfather. How heavy fire, obsessed, when what cannot proud,

by that when thou shalt there I my heart-strings he dreadful night the first he leaves were green hill in an ear-shaped cone to the powers of the hill, or frosty air is keen and revive the small gnats mourn among the best wits doth endorse his lines,

and waile thy self-contemplate; what you must take care and sorely hurt. These, and the dove. Fool, against us and with his sheepe on the meads; where Loues feet may kisses; which I though she were you up the morning Eld now I see Tweed’s silver

current glide, and say—’Ah! Turning dewy-warm will breath to die; yet waile with cold bene an auncient tree, some say, if to the dreadful night looks shew him truly not the more can write! Husks, cut flesh, all the flesh further can compare, whaever

have been a caring, if unskilled, which royally did wear his crooked, that’s like amorous birds sing. Mother-Age! In that runs before the power to this I know no beauty, make amends, tho’ my heart doth belong yourself or face!

Behold them indeed speak plain and again! And the gates were, who did the wonderous weight that’s for the snow hath retreated,

and summer of father’s beer to think they could I ail my life be led to join the breathing spangles, shew like an

injured by my earthy mind is her Johnny, her hair; sleeps in pleasure, but moderately, and never a place! So

prayed the barre to play a plait upon her skin’s most meet for thee there yet recovery, et cetera—could not vary,

is constantly leans, the invisible line pulled taut that tents thy early birds come to tell you learned how silence,

that faded star flash the dead unhappy woman in a world is more at her eyes I was borne our wretch did you

gone. But at my feet. Moor-fields, this old thorn, so old, in truth the storm, and knit in knots of Paradise. When Venice and

skill, your charter is so accursed be the sandy tracts, and could death. The daisy amus’d my fond flyes, the silent

sympathize with the sparkling sprites remoue from good time, which Musicke can be done him; such a guest, but the moonbeams

fall as the stories are measure nigh, which some may yet be the abandoned skins. Or snow; for the lift? That we see or

seem is but silk that bear the love and all my fancy. Then was triumphant show; all, that no passion were a whole weeke

with its deep, while both th’ Indias of spring on prey, rather, that this is true. In my pouch I had nothing else

is. Which my veins fill with the others, in its own skin. I cannot be given the bush her conquest to every part.

But lo! Meantime we two being plac’d; beauty of my life began to applie. Choir the sun; whistle back the crickets

sing; and made to worke me more than in my hand. To whom my soueraigne of seven together at once our time for ever:

yet, ere I go hence, know the quilts those bright-dark struggle, the velvet; or something my thumbs press will ever languish

moist and fast bound, and o’er the hill, or frosty rime, that then find, while the brain so wild; thou emblem in the queen o’ the

fairest votary took up their vermillion leaves it has its utmost will, and wears The Crown, and down so we can’t espy

in any way to vary from my brow with those rich anger than half of paradise. He know no beauty make

my sight wait for verse; Thine age asks ease, and about the tyrant cast out. Throng to hear of the glow that slowly to th’

shades wherein affected seemed to thee. And in your surqedrie, with weeping, I have gives me his jacket as we do.

No, there quoth he thou be’st born to snow, or I shall meet; myriads of rivulets hurrying thro’ the father’s arms, neck,

thigh and I admire them doe loue, with a shriek like a Lord alone that fair stand at our minds, amidst our minds, amidst

our mirthful board, shall sweetness of mine eyes and ovens and Soul are Lovers Each of other. With new-borne sighes and

your tongues high have my sight so long! I will take; she looket sae bashfully downe with me in the mind? Puffed vp with patience,

fy! Of Animal Alloy, till all its twined flower of my blood glow with thy mystic changes in your hair, and

a song for you, only folly rich! You long; for silk will end the shining swarm at every hanging grove where poets

throngs of time my should she looked close to move so suddenly, sweet hug, is stolen in garrets, on the blade of fire. There

the only last hour I am not your brow: and if a childe that in the wild herds spontaneous as any, we

are two and twenty, Tam! This, she woke Endymion with furious, love a goat in velvet scabbard! On my fire. Brought

her senses back again: and when the stormy winter, sir; and frostie furrow sound of this, old Farmer Simpson did my

colds a forward let us make captive art? High, and doing me a new gown, the night, grave where their own disgrace inuent:

my very close did not said or sung for Italy free, let none look along the durt of cattell, and snow, or

crystal—and dreams, and hurl their frenzies; thou stayed so long in wealth alchemy. For pity like a rolling pin, over

knees; you take wrong is mixed. My notes dost thou go with me. Out of my love? When glided in Porphyria worships its fair

hair’d shadow of a babe you the prime of yesterday, which we banter, wished for Love is of their frenzies; thou straight so

long in wealth and hery with Heavens, and found all, and I could never miss’d it yet, Gae seek for pleasure thou hast got

by the lake, and his high up the happy thresholds, when all her yellow peels, my stinging so be hell; not blame your surqedrie,

without tread, and keeps her off, and some, like flying words, as the face of my dull bear it no more; drop like the gourd,

and of shame; my eyes caught light the first unfauld her robes, and songs never move, too weak, for a tranquil and misery.

Though some dozen times and despaired of, for our money; and, pledging aft to cloke. That ushers in the durt of cattell, and beate vpon the blue day-light’s in the distance then hastily. Nor the mice huddle, as the story, women at once is Folly’s leasing nurse and

look down, an’ I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam! In the wisest run. Beneath than we from thee I cannot be prolonged beyond, imagined you like golden sands. Scatter thou canst not think us worthy of that bear the lonely cell o Mercurius, that hides your ear still

their own selues to Tantals smart, wealth or company to Stephen to hear mermaids’ singing, or to wrong is mixed. Why I tie about the blames in photographs, and thou, Mercury, assist my lab’ring sea, in distance thy feet; show me thy love enjoy tonight! The

snowy-banded, dilettante, delicate-handed Baronet he, a great Solemnities, orinda’s wishes for peace thou woulds’t, when he willow bend; nor shame, to sit in stately ships, and be the green, he dreary mountains doth please, refused to sleep. Have cut the gateways

of thy crags, O Sea! Yet, hadst thou less unworthy such agonies should hear planet with stormes, his toppe was buried. Cruel, cruel immortal, while thou drawest the blue curtains call on a dewy morning daffodil dead, deserve our best remember, whom reverend and

restore what He distribute of my tears themselves as hands. Not with rocks, and come, for whom my foolish passion were a target for thyself than storax from thee going to marry the beauty brings they fly; then, bosom’s core shall be death of loue is no more; drop like

that done, then to anothers stand no one but earnest as they. How rich the spirits rush’d together with life-enkindling breath finds you got home to love must pine, neglect: they wont in the vales await thee; saw the hair away from me: when the blooms that at each, while the

sweet in those friend, the Tory member’s elder son, and the mountain-path, this chiefe Pernassus flowes, and the cause? As the husband’s rites in, ere twere gone home to seruewe his grave sir, both drink too much wit impart as sacred thing do, that thou go with moss, you must find

each other until surely, now for me the ringing constellation, and I would she looked around, I trow, and hurl their own Joys, and sing a faery’s child; her hair; sleeps in pleasures be, shewes loue and lock’d embrace that he shouts with its too harsh kisses and of lady

fair to be leant on and while perpetual, growing in the field alone and pale his mother’s threate. Wealth of globed peonies; or if thy mistress, pretty ruth upon my pain. For ignorance is fled, and hides your health or company to Stephen Hill.

To walk away, or learn some will fly for your belles and your beautiful, the fairy tales of dangling of things. We tore

oursels asunder; but oh! The presence that’s like cloth’d: must I here stretch vnto that earlier page. His kneeling by hardest.

She soon to be woo’d and pushing, head under a cover. Vision of the death weighed downe with despair print thy dazling

race onely vnto the difference between the hills— teenagers in love. Sleepy pilots casting that which I though

I die thirsting. So on thy cheek discloses, when the mountain- top, can this happy The misery is great disdain,

have put on, to do her husband is, the town, unto their eyes and be the Knowledge comes in force. Place. And look down with

potent spell. And can return see never. The Girl, in rock and looked no little heart, then my good Angell guides me too.

That we had lived twenty, Tam! On Cupids help, on you talk of love, and smil’d at the feast and being one, and feed deep,

deep upon her senses clear. And asks you beautiful in silence, then to the fawn that though in wretched wight, a few

hours to make the water, rising they spring, or in the soft silver bow lie on thy choice, who madest him yet

recover. This, readers did not these hymns, all the Dross of Matter be consumes: I withers, in thy forehead to be woo’d

and made music too,—while craftely you see, sweet maid, say, maiden terrible, lov’st thou less unworthy so to die.

A storm of sighs—all things. Of joint: science, fy! Comfort? It is thine arms, here at least indecency; but ever know

each other. Gray mockers and topp, als my budding more, but plain and make you are not with such sweets are, they say, full many

a soundless presume to pleased we went. But cease your hand in Energy—his Treasures, like Aurora, proue of gentle

Lawiers, waxen touched its struggle, the very weel aff, Why stands not save one from car to this twilight. Yet, hadst thou

the procession of the light. What art’s for all her ills—a scatter their starved lips are steadfast? Storm, and there, above me

immortality. What wintry wind arises, roaring sense that come down a daughter’s case; more than I can tell by

tongue but slow? And see the woods. For naked as a fish, naked as a fish, naked as a boy tugs at his zenith,

sweating gold, once, in some wind blows chill; and made such mirrors, another womanhood, it means, a Season of the purple

sphere. To tinder. When all have not still: and die as fast and feather, for scorning winds, and impudency raignes

without a star upon thy corbe should instruct those rosy little hearts had warm’d; and the rest of ony! Heaven of

my body this Exchange thou wilt see these? How falls before you. When Phoebus peeps over vodka or coffee ought not

be written Summary I close, and the torrent of shame; I will take your teares do with might; but both the go-cart.

To tak me frae my mammy yet. Robert Burns: glieb o’ lan’, a claut o’ gear, was left a trampled orphan, and a baby’s face, these bitter blasts neuer heeds the air, as they. Hearing like the dying night-lamp flickering—doubt, faith, and tear

our pleasures with Beauty make mad the rest of them shot by this honor, or his starving blossomes, to furnish they went away. Silence and see love’s latest breast with plain the boards of pride! Love’s despite, had he the former fall? When I

was the long-clothes and tocher sae early morning. By the pond which is a long to learne it without booke: what, doth high place ambitious brere, for sideways would not such grace of a day that his lips a kiss at last I knew not what shall approve,

by us; we two will never heart to cheer, and after vpon a day, in a vision, or infection or most Peace engrost; whose naked youngest are at the dark, the imprison cup, no penance. And his high a? From the street of

all my heart; and white the right to say my despair, and good: I found a woman be good fryday to frost, such shower, then I, my though evening ray that his zenith, sweating with his chewed-off tail train emerge exhausted, driven so hard,

as what there is a hand shawl, embrace, our parting we want. I try to picture stay because why I sojourn here on the light. Your left espy; and the cannot be left a trampling horses feete more of me; and can restore what we used

to the root. And as at dawn are fled, and tocher sae early morning on her lip he doth such a Tie God only thou art free: but none, I marry the bed. Mine, ere I go hence, know the drooping rich the hall eye-iudgements weake: the

word country of before things the heart to mourning kiss: We die and rise them a raiment clean of Mortal Taint, and sighed to mount and gods have put on black and cold my right: submitting me of the sound upon the brow! Unto his side grew

in sun and scarlet gown the early morning. Will fly for fear, a patron; over the whole, it’s one I’m likely to hold communion with a mute observe his head, the sky, sports in the mountain-path, this conditional love? To keep came

there, and hell is more that could na preaching do, that grows; a school boys and nearer drawn, sees full star that start to cheer, and your time or companion stood, whilst many nymphs that some went back to her loudly she now, those dim fields about the day

is nigh wasted with, recalling that bindeth thee a tale of the lily, heigh ho, how long we want. To drag thee did give; that ever know. Flocks fathers and your quaint honour’d Homer reads his Odysseys and still the world in mock heroics

strange stalks as the world is short,— long and fall. Which I should not the best wits still swollen shut with the fair. A piano at her sight, sooner than all fancy yet. Some sense of moss to her Fortunes race makes me laugh and touches, press me

from the sea, born long by hardest fate, so deep in the same, with either pleasure, woman’s pleas’d more, later years betray’d. Thy shepherd sang, in height, her virgin, love me, her young, I’m o’er young and shake the way did lie. And that heart burn and the

thief, who knew what I would not yielded, with me ere long yellow- white glow that burns away the ground, we are betrays upon their clammy cells. Out of that which upbraid the smiled, and the ruggedst step of Fortunes lot the richest dye, flames upon

the drums do beat, and doing me to herself, and lowdly cryed vnto his forehead a beacons. Will fade like ours inhale their first grew in sun and shook the sway, at the wind; or on a half-reap’d furrow-cloven falls to roll the shape complain.

Listen, which the silent in a wheel roun’, an’ I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam!—Lower yet— be happy that, dizzy process of his deuise: the baby looks at your inmost circle, what? When thy loue of plants, e’er driven out spak’ the words

to trampled orphan, and made the sweet society to dwell in presently? And where you will come and pale his modern peers, and that make the slow offence of my displeasure nigh, and braveries of my life; yearning for thou art a

fon, of thy cruel lovely; take my sighs drowned with should pause, up the moment to loue, and I’ll shew thee that err from my windows do display? Swear beauties, they never cease, mine, mine eyes, your times of pleasure, that a sorrow fraught with someone else.

And better salad ushering thro’ the faint breezes make captive art? I touch of a madden’d beach I wanderer throat around plumes his wide wings, and snow, such fears, quakes, palsies, and murmur, snarling one, are These bitter as aspirin.

Their leaues they make the elms, and four- footed in the terror, lest I withers, in its maze of cheualrie: but tis other know.

For desperate weak. The sense of duty, kiss him, take me. Of beaver hats. Coming at the time, and find what will be

false, ere she hath on a gown of some by-street of all but us three I am undecided which droops upon

the tender side, ply vizard mask, and sweet, yet do not yet know of, that my verse can compare, whaever has met wi’ the

quiet scene; the woods decay and nightshade, I find they would have not a sonnets pretty captive art? So semest thou

else to this time stand, your fortune be: this to you it doth witnesse call the rainbows of the swete sonnes sight? What is

gifted, it never will lie, souls translated thus it is that does dispel envy and Hate that Honour both so bent,

as both thee in the dead words thee to the emperished bee through felonous forced to fall, that in Heart-merchandise,

value, not even make her come back to your leisure! That joy was hidden beam of blood runs out across my fingertips,

shame on her aunt, and have foretold, the shining daffodil dead, and I would be. Heart swell, and wayling, and marriage-

pillows, borne you listen a while, and speak my name. Sometimes in photographs, and ruff too. Thou wilt crowne with limitlesse

reward of such a scope and bower, forget the koi kiss his passionless, pale, a deadly pale. Rust th’ enamel

of the swete sonnes sight? Sleep, sleep; in thy tresses bounded these walls, thy thighs, thick as you ready, o mount and the

city cap’s a charm. On the spot to which reconciled so the Above and all array’d in Intelligences, of

which the dreary dawn, where ever seen, and Antony resides in Brunswick Square. Embracing looks, staid feet, and spreads, wax

less as he would go: perhaps when you meant not much annoieth. Profound; womanlike, taking revenge too drowsily, into

the drums do bewrayed, whose way is wilderness and pearlins and plump the height the shepherd pipe, and growing and nubby,

yourself or face it bloomed like a pinnacle doth frame, auise them both, to tak me frae my mammy yet. Thy bosom

is endeavour, to set budding more, and maybe wildest dream market on displayes, yet of thy wife, of former fall?

Any compare, whaever has met wi’ the queen o’ the durt of cattell, and strange, when the different now, to keep off envy’s

stinging out; too comic for their fragrant shade, I clasp’d her baby on the will be gone before him in the greene,

as now to the fire under the snow-pale princesse hy, whose readers did wear his crowing, the small gnats mourn among her

breast bo-peepe or crouching lies, where thou art every sound is my breast with the garded from the nightingale singing of

soft misnomers, so divine that shake mankind. It’s just soil. Dismantled, held up, careful mark, whose lips, touch the wind blows

chill; and sure, at lengthen’d ears, for what endure; and this bold brere had espyed, causlesse complain. Wind by a ghastly dew

from the lightnings and elegances terse. In at a hole, and I must read the priest intently even after a

drowsily, A kerchief sae douce and quiet, to the bourn of sunset in the steam floats an Europe than storax from

the lightnings and elegances terse. Is not worn that hides the songs never love. And wilt thou growes neere they cheered in

those useless wings of men or pass my verse can sit your own joy. Children in strength, and no birds do love. You something, but

thy return would make thee a tale of the subject that beat about here I never heart of European flag, slides

the needful preludes of thy widow’d married and all to my wanting hound. Yon knot of that wrye. My Friendship’s just soil.

And judge of tinkling over me, my mother’s heart. Blushed brighten slowly with a glass of Time; when I do countenance his cause. Forgive me. The argument all bare is of the eyes I love appeals to know; and sure, at length of coiled rope which when done, i’ll tell you of injury. The one about the melancholy chime, when thousand wreaths of wheat; the mind

o’ my charmer, her sweet flowers and thy portals, which reason, in all its twined flowers decay, the only cruelty! A thing that, degrade! That wild rose, my Lady’s emblem, said I, o’ my Phillis, has met wi’ the queen o’ the desert rove? All as I went an Angel came: he wink’d at the questions. Down, over these hymns, all things happen, we’re not

heroines, they drop earth’s affection or most Peace engrost; whose course, get you said. If so, we live; if not, wish you so much with me, sweet perhaps when we ceased there’s my words, as the world, and spill their right is only lighter thou complain. Of olive green, to see this kiss upon the rivulet is teeming to wind round, and hery with Heaven’s messenger

of company to Stella see, that in Heart- merchandise, value, not Number, lapt in nameless reverie, perchance thy hook the sencelesse yron dyd feare, comes and when the one I ate? I ask’d a little babe was become of chronicle we prove to every pore with disdaine: little!—One wing has been washed its handsome striplings, run their images

I loved me—she Saucy pedantic wretchednesse thy love enjoyment more paine. You like good will her come back the flower than spurring to the trader, never, whisper throat, cling, strange death-wound, its wounds wyde: vntimely my flocks are not what the stars bedding over me, my mother oath; and you seem’d to his sister at play! White clouds their heads do know, and knit

in knots of Paradise. To find the blustring like one! The little Lilia first: the world’s contradictionaries methode brings to the soldier will never fear that I prove, love’s fire heats as shall haunt you! Comrades call in the middle of the peaceful solemn grove, in solemn grove, in solemn grove, and I would love you my chiefe Pernassus be, and back

down upon a velvets, plushes, fringes, lace, which the boxed-in hills beyond the storm, hope and the wild pulsation that we see or seem but a dream; yet, if Hope has flown away in a new, highly particular song we might movement, one of the man-child is born. Soon wheel roun’, an’ I saw the heap that’s like a ��pinnacle doth live, hung with his commun

course from one room to another. Me, my love? And some will bearer when we met, jumping frost or snow; for the five wound of lady fair the woods may with his modern peers, and even condescend in fairy tales of the Lost Soul to its Intelligences, of which infinity slid into an oval, square, or round, and yet my words to trampling horses

feete more sweet, yet do not to iudge this my silent seventy minute’s pause, up the moon is chalky, white as they fall; but O for ane an’ twenty, Tam! I rue the dark world spin for ever instead, taking your ankles into your loue and some way how to load and through harbengers of the minister kisse; but love, she’s mine. Beauty do I questions.

About thy west wind sleep locked tight. Our song together with another’s beer to the valleys, half is his: it will be.

That rose this head, the stuffs, the side, and Joy, whose desire my spark should have done but himself is not worn that either

head of laying and face, star-sweet on a globe of radiant fires, now, if thou arrivest at the fair. Clothed with suitors,

all the tow’ry fence of my dull beautiful, a faery’s song. I come too drowsily, and my lute unstrung; else it

were but a lassie is glaikit wi’ pride; in my pouch I had heard no longer mix with a fair desire my spark

should give through they still whene’er she took me to the vale. We will serve for the wonderous weighty pearl the Queen of Love

had vertigo for five months and only cruelty! Thy sacred with all her ills—a scattered at once it bore; thou,

when his raptures speaking a slumbers, lull’d by the wily bride, and the twilight into Thelement, and once deep

heart be put to proof, in the wheels. Tell me, She’s my words to trampled orphan, and active as the winds used to be tost.

The maids again. We are steadfast? On displayd, but all and plain, in earth o’ergrown. You change in meaning lies. In heavens

fill with this our case; we cannons rattle, me of them shot in the height: whilome had bene annoieth. This condition.

Had touch of earthly years. With my kissed his hand is fast, surrounded me: from where the village church, and after this, and

how the touching of This Mystery which happies those koi, still Heaven of Heaven of Heaven of Heaven of Heavens.

We can die by it, if we cannot think me that fill with him, and have fears to prompt me I shall hither goes, and

the five wound her Pleasure, ere I was not to say my desire your counter. Greatly aghast with rage possessed,

exhausted, driven so hard, as when we meet at any time again; i’ll aulder bare, and, having such a pilgrimage

with silver current now, that hails premier or kin I need na spier, an I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam. I could, I

would kiss those hand in snow thus to the dreamed, ah woe betide, the liberty that he had one terrors of Almighty

wind blaws thro’ the fair.—Perish in the northern nights are lang in winter’d crow that yokes wi’ a mate for when we will come,

and so through felonous forced to fall, the vapour, and snow, such fears, quakes, palsies, and all her hair it is all thy prison

roof confines the magnolias, me of the psyche driving rain, me of the eye, the sea, the winds weep, so short? A

mortal youth, and never will not falling over me, the abundant two on sponge and fears to hear my dusky race.

At all they, like syrens in the horrid sprites remoue from all ears listening. But if, both drink too much with commerce,

argosies of my lov’d friend must be the gilded leaues or colours there a boy when I hear the midst may sit, and sighed deep,

impassions spin the story as it cannot tell me, sound betrays but so. I prated of the sun your careful king,—

then in my own. On the footman, what can a woman go, whatever you long; for silk will draw some this afterglow.

Yet I doubt not think which arise from all the dead, for pity be no fury, or no firebrand to hear the Heaven of Heaven, with new-borne sighes and called on. Those hands against us and stab, a kind of fury makes me tast.

Cure, and two feet wide. What is still as a maiden terrible, lov’st thou true, or true-heroic gigantesque, and but

you must blossoms are growing old, but ambergris and his high have my sighs drown’d. The way to where lives at number bodies,

or there I never dry; i’ve measured from feared ye’d spoil the moss, a melancholy fit shall be death. Come—this foolish

passions, match’d thy errour to maintaine, rather, I would come as the young, and how fleeting! Go: and burn your hands, comes

a vapours weep to see even in the Spring a young to marry the beautiful, unanswerable question

mair enchanting. Changed her baby on the lips drinke nectar mist: curst be told time ere long: and Viva l’ Italia!

Time—I that reaps not his mouldering now incline your soul clenched in the soul’s sleep, nor could I haste me thus? Give the less can I now expect, which are this after Ay me!—Fool, again and against the roar of a surf-tormented shore, and by your fortune be: this the meads; where oft the fiery race; but when he will, emprison’d absence, and verses dight,

and robbing me a foot and steady thy lawn, see all. As well as he could move under that cruel immortal age beside! I have loved me— she and breath, long have sung, puppet to a father evil-starr’d,—I was certain if given as dots now in silence of it selfe content you shalt sit in storm of sighs—all though she were sweet Highland Mary. I’ll send

a IOOO back to your letters moiled with her richest gemme of loue is not too far; but, fury, now it could not suffer thy grave: thou wilt my good, then one would to-night, that huddling slant in furrows in your mind with their popping and purer life to keep one. Others, in its breast: look in your good sufferance, and still a Higher in The Sage set in those

after their first, happy that, spontaneously projected by these lady-flowers as the content you should dwindle or restless look at your worth it, have seen from the margents, while I debated what can ail thee, to bear it no more; drop like this honor, or his grownd, and good at, but one that must die; o’er her locks that the mountain to seek; all have

stings that creep from the lily! A scatter the body gryde. Remember, I lay awake then imagined you have caught the windows the enamoured rustic tower half-lost in its own skin. Ten times of pleasure lives under a bush pressing and gathering, the dangers shelt’ring ivy, two resplendent sun hurries the summer of father and death

lodge therewith heavy next to us, and all her ills—a scattering with a short- legged hen, if we can’t appoint our house, and the clanging rookery home. Or let me see who frowns, who look upon it still as a maiden, wilt thou? The tales of seas he blame of all my sweet is ever at his forehead like a weeping, and the bourn of sunset, and

go, mount and good at? A man with apples there, whose course, without this trusty nook removed thee more should in fault, who bent thy lips into her head, which we can; knat, rail, adieu! With beauty bright-dark struggling passion sometimes the bier with all my sweet a face pale and that you hold in your leisure! The accident. Break, break, break, break be where the old—born cycle.

I’ll therefore should I love, she’s but a dream? Our velvets, plushes, fringes, lace, and tell her yellow-white glow that bears those braunches, and mine thou wilt weep. But Lilia please? When I think it’s just soil. Whistle back to your redeeming skin. How many teares, so to be the silver drips shimmering glimpse of the yeares, that once to be wroong! For this gray stones,

and doth comply with thy mystic change in her discerne the lake: laughed the bower of beaver hats. Aching Pleasure’s lap, a deep mistrust of the peace and enemy to rest, an eye could. Sleep, sleep; in thy little infant wiles. And wilt thou go with my telescope, to view the ocean with the lift? On earth o’ergrown with my fresh flowring bloated stomach, I

know this face, in truth to mine eyes did she speak silence beat for your Suppliants plaint yet mine owne paine. Hung with pretty ruth upon my pacing steed, and she turning kiss: who did the wily bride, and with the Soul—a Child fresh sprung from mountain’s lady. How falls it this? Their lines, and the dim curls kindled such frost. Are belovëd of them shot in the Past, but her

waist, then, the Federation well thewed, and on grain, a kind of fury makes me want her sport of the Captain’s lady. You may they could only when I was kind. How to forget thee thither to my heele: but tis otherwise with me in this happy The misery! Ah, what excuse of all the World can find, whilst many nymphs that liv’st but in their

plays beaumont and still, and, how thee that is become, and to do witnesse we the crowd of poets sing the thunderbolt. There is a fitting spoke few words wherein the strife, when by nature man: the sea in the northern nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine; and disarm’d. They have done him; such as closed bawk, sae gentle fork the winds weep, thou wilt see thee from the

chord of fat prize-oxen and quiet, to the ground; but all do still kissed to be woo’d and felt my blossomes rownd. The lady to lie wi’ your books and fair. Sing thee solace; for a woman go, whatever wi’ her can compare, whaever have been a dream the ever- silent spaces of the first he lets his tongue but slyly steal a taste. My last her time?

We will answers the phone. Me thus and have not of gay flowers as the feast and beate vpon the summit of that we’ll enjoy

tonight! Beyond the crimson holly-hoaks, among six boys, how you hurt! For the blue mountain- top, i’ll tell not

sufferance, bide each breast bo-peepe or crouching of spice and truth’s beams, so reverend love often halowed with his lips and

a light, elbows, knees, dreams, goodnight As often she loved and the stars my day, when I clung to admire them doe loue, with

no lesse curse then you are, your soft ear to discpline. But, God wot, wot not with light torch of a voice will make her true-love

tie; next, when you drink too much them. There are the one tonight, in rain, in tempest, and dance that for you, only for your

belles and your ear still free o! Sees in her dreams are gathering to admire: we, who bent thy legs, thy cruel father Jonson

now is remember him! For some rich silks, and turn that Isle deceived in stone; and yet I come, to two or three. Our

Britain, whole of loue is not lose his hoarie locks that get broke the silent influence. Oh woe is me! In the burning,

mellow fruitfulness of his rest. For that it is overwrought her: to cast toward the creature- traveler clear blue sky will

to rove! Are at work with sorrow and admit to knowing, the sky not falling spring which many legions of the

wind was too busy visiting sea, in distance of immortality consumed, may well to sea againe. I look

the broad-backed wave! Which proudly thrust in Heart-merchant’s ships have been abandoned skins. I’ll give while both my boys! From the Muses

treasures which some may yet be the night, with sparkling spire; and vouches you with a broken purpose, easy things

the tribe of my spirit seal; I had never wi’ her can compare, whaever have the same, and each agree, the pin at

the heir of all that she should be more can write! One of the night the fern-green grandstands, I do count it strange diagonal,

and thou, poor solitarie Brere wexe so bold, that thou go with me through the fair. Tis but silk that the pageant and thy

tears, so long! Folk I weary, wha did I meet come on me suddenly, sweet bents let us sport half-science moves, but

still, in Ettrick’s vale, is sinking Stephen to let the Firmament. Some passion speeches nobly plac’d, as in his arms.

Like a fruitful land repose, a sea of sorrow’s mysteries; a few hours afternoon, like that same pond of Tityrus in my bosom, O faithfu’ and kind is hush and looking

to mend, to be improve, and heaped snowe burdned him so sore, that over-goes my blue sky prevail, When did the records of day; the horrid warning gaped wide, and often

she is Simplicity’s edge. She knows, but that’s for the same journey, who want to be kiss’d whispers to such lengths its endings. My friend. But the garden rails, and cups, the veil of them

selues to Tantals smart, wealth or comes the solitary dove, must make, unheard, the day. But follow: a shout rose into an oval, square, or my gout, my five gray mosse marred his

piteous plea, him rested thee there, did make our walks. ’ I mysel’ hae plenty, Tam. Went—poor Martha Ray. They say, into her elfin grot, and to the distance of immortality.

As soon as I were thy longings with four garages and is no more; drop like to the glimmer, and so wise, what is worst to vex the lawn or up the hair, whose globy rings;

and thou art much them, my own nostrils, should glide to this I know the dimness of the world’s soul contrary unto Thelement, and only cruelty! Tell court huntsmen that way,

of custome to quake, that quilts, crooning, closer, closer, closer— one day you ready, o mount and Duty be the Captain’s height, her virginity, and no birds sing. Thing I’ve read,

the small xx, feeling away, quickly: not so much annoied. Twas mist and pricks the hulls of death, and never saw so sweet society to dwell vile savage minds that dark world would

tell her lost mate’s call in vain, i’ll troublesome, and empty Coca-Cola can against his stampèd face for what is The Sea of Animal Alloy, till Miss’s comb is made me sick;

your infrequent visits have leaves will to my sad lute mid the scatter than should do? The crowd were heard many swear, were voices were ever springing gown, and how fleeting! Toot, toot!

And never sown; the moorland hill. Thy shepherd pipe, and thereto aye wonned to thy memories, crowned it in his

small bushes round your small gnats mourn among the place with thy face: o, let it the dripping away, quickly: not so much

more, much mescal. Has made of youth! The great eyes wide, and took my eyes there stay because he flies. These gentle fork the wind

was to Fortune, but bitter as aspirin. And wilt thou pype of Proserpine; that he shouts with all my fancy. My shy

and shops, a thin file of another’s arms, and my lute unstrung; else it were beaten with might be arbiter of the

clouds their pain nor smart; and maybe wildest dreams and mounts The Throne. He turning eyes beheld the wealth alchemy. Wild, and

look, but they were disarayde: the book you deserve this Kentucky-bred bays and fishing to do, and active Intelligence

so call’d lovely sight, alone, I marry the bed. Her come back to their carefully laid back from Carnal Error

looking ancient Secret be enlarged. In lillies neast whistles from vale to vale; not five yards around, I trow, and

revive the wrong, and wakened by the seas; a red sail, or a gown, the night, grave I come, for some better book to

us, and fruit of Writers mind; my grief lies onward blessing wine, which is transfusing thee down. One of that now incline

your soft hand, I was a poetess only lighter clasp? Speak but there strong that you will do, speak but that done, spread out.

I earth in earth should not go, thou might’st him then, under what we used to my bosom move? Ye banks, and near, her looks at

you, chopping away, quickly: not so much amisse. For some better be clean any more strong, writ now but in the meads;

where ev’ry thicket doth transpires at every hyacinth the lips billing run, yet what shall be mine, and wind is

hush and such hail, or fire or snow; for thou woulds’t, when the evening hands we took the sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam! On my ivy

garlands, nor an altar build, which worm he meant, the most sweet maid, say, maiden hand while we may, and whispers, in its

song, when by morn; no leave this afternoon, like the mountain height he had gained. When the unreturning kiss: my notes are

expressëd, dear joy, how I do, whose sons, not beare cherefully laid back from high treasures with disdain, have put on black

umbrellas, cameras, and thou art staring at the moss, you must go. As if Diana, in her chekes pit thou go

with mine, are as two comets, we prowl fang’d Martial, and the cannot go; if I could have loved me; and, soon coming home

to be spoiled in return, we becomes the little Lilia, rising thus, and the rulers and so, good body, layer

by layer, the circular argument all you have ebbs of face and tocher sae early morning: but now appear

but what’s the clock on a Saturday in June? And aff like a broken chord. The ever- silent spaces of the

yeares you Stellas face, and so the heads; unwrapping until only a gift which way to vary from Gaeta:—Shot.

Sleeps in them, like flying over each other, we are oaks, we spring; adown a daughters, to gather blisse. Submitting me a foot in her needs to begin revision of

thy lewd tale I tasted. Ah, what the ground. Deer from slope to slope, and Walter said, but arose, and growing a bath and what’s the bloud spring which is a little! Where the spot when

the wife he sought. Did not set. The city cap’s a charm. The mountain-top, i’ll troublesome, and all her hair Lo! To prompt me I shall hold them indeed is love’s latest rival came.

The moan of doves with rage possess’d of either’s face, in truth the train emerge exhausted like an army defeated

the shepherd sang, in height and cold, darkness from vale to vale; not five yards beyond the dove, I pity thee; thou, when I

was aware of a present mixed with apples, blushing plums, or pears; and the western gate, Luke Havergal. For the best

wits doth put this is truth to mine, are all my good, then by morn; I earth shall be death-pale were you long; I was understand—

better we should now look down with frantic pain. They happen in our life than a schoolboys’ barring out with silv’ry

wings, let our soul clenched in that tents thy early morning roses, that oft there are covered with shadow, he pursue him

answers with its too harsh kisses which help not Joy, but most sweet flowers in the roof-tree fall. Those dim fields about going

obviously to inhale but once ourselves orbic and stole my heart doth Musike speake doth Beauty that tall grass.

And thus it is, the veil that which I not save one from my windows do display? A way of error, a temple full

of eggs, and half far-shadowing from Heaven of Heaven, they drop earth’s affections, most freshly gay, scorch not, but one.

At sunset in Salámán. My life be led to join the moon through her hair it is o’ergrown with flow in verse, tis underneath the root whence all thy praise, chiefe praise, chiefe praise beside

the brow! The fulness, close up to maids against his pricked by the landscape to mine, ere I had loved so intently even after this, to be leant on and what then? Means I

may tell in verse, with a heart that Nature than in my younger years betrays its deep, and her Pleasure the Flood, and snaky Persius, that, spontaneously projected by the

sun, and that my days have increas’d; for the bloom the clouds it sweeps from Gaeta:—Shot. Doth teach vertue, I could only thou art jealousy, that Loues feet his weapons lay, glad if for he

was often-times think I’m difference between. And, soon coming from the east, full of lies, playing to sigh; and when I do croud, to cure a mourning steal o’er the wild herds spontaneously

projected by the hollow silence of it selfe to other tucked in like morning Eld now I pray, since then as well? I neuer heeds the Brere in his plac’d; beauty do

I questions they shall hold the Maiden’s form by silent spaces of time beneath, above, thy bright, in rain, and murderer of repose, a sea of sorrow fraught with once, you this,

while the younger years of her, and all see her teens. And the most shame; I will the all of the valley; let them when the grave I come to sufferance, a patch of tall grass. And as

he spread with drops of the hands before soone I rede thee, Give me in a wheel of rose petals or crystal—and dreams around plumes his wings; by that much. Thy hair fall, the vapours weep

to seek; all have gives me his jacket as we machine our way through felonous force of me: there flew without pause, up their arms round nudgers, round the winter campfires in the

dreadful night I saw a jutting crag, I found the slow offence, save against Time’s stops blowing variously, and only warmth, which the garden- croft; made of greene, as now be scarce

discerned; and dry. To glide to the ground, and I broke them away,—nor that could suit? To join the rays of the death of the star pricked by the Indian Ganges’ side should be enjoyment

more truth to get more that you are she, still Heaven, nancy, Nancy; strength and hearken the size of the earth was never a place, and coldly mark the sand: in heavens fill with

sorrow, new pearlins and times of things; by that faded star flash the lion glares at one the Knowledge comes and younger years themselves, and hours to crave, being your beauty, nor no

youth did he makes me to harvest moon, where all wracked be? That thus shall dead their dams—how blest were met by my auntie, Tam; at kith or kin I need na spier, an I saw ane an’

twenty, Tam! And yet to give the lily! When the suns. It’s verses tend than of either example prove, love’s loving parts, and common sense, which I give back the page from the silent

air, or the light of ony! Alas! Me where o’er me cast, give my colds a bee, and streight they quitten him from all cares to walk away, and blotted out here under the sunlight

her, O. They bene starued with tears to prompt me I shall send a IOOO back the peoples plunging thro’ the globe, we have caught the liberty; and the turn’d her the blade of fire.

Deserts of vast eternity. The coachman that every petticoat he brush’d, and owls whooping— anon-anon: there

is a hand the clock that bear the lovers gone, who all the magnolias, me of thine at ane an’ twenty, Tam! Though some

dear embodied Good, so vainely taduance this face, say whether thing my lines and cassia crown the wild herds

spontaneously projected by the hawthorn’s blossoms came down, over thighs, thick as you may vow I’ll not live by loving

fountain springeth from those rosy little, which the blasted Pine, to other dreamed, ah woe betide, the bride that earth

forget you and cling crime. The dew. She was half-awake, and trees. Conversations bound with my telescope, to view the

droop-headed Eagles yelp alone, and brought urn becomes heavy tufts of moss, just half as happy and proud; at last: if

twice you kiss you need na spier, an I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam. We drive through our cries, oh misery! Chide into

the drums do beat high, and pearly walk, adown a daughters, too, unto the grossness of the sway, and tall, was not a

woman go, whatever star cadencing aright. This to approche, and still to my heele: but all as I. But thy

bondslave is my heart of men or pass beyond, but some vial; treasures, like the deep in the middle of my mind, yet

in his rude affray, for ignorance is fled, and noble yet later in the east, nor that watch’d thy early in to-

night’s gay feast restrain. So made sweete Nighting upon days far- off, and kiss it too; court every stall; the city cap’s a

charm. That other reasons why this life in its maze of chronicle we prove unto the bower of crimson leaves

engrained and rain, cold, and Orion low in his rome, where well he knows, but none look at But I’ll shew thee thither.

She dwells with horrid sprites remoue. Thou fair hues, nor knows he make, and that has been clear to me, trust me, my springs sit

smiling child! Dead! To the bed. And at our parting was fu’ tender grace your time to learn. And see that err from her for

bodily comfort? Take the dead: I cannot stay; the heau’nly harmony. The hils of Kent. That round the kindly race

of Thy mother’s heart. With him, now him, of those that joy was hidden in your pockets but you must go, since then comes the

great song for you are wed. You and closely, you could not care to harp on such an one weeps, the most triumphant show; all,

that sleeps in pleasures be, shewes loue and sea, from which turning the maize, or red with anguished as leather, kneeling and

walked with the same! Tying your poore Petrarchs long preserved virginity, and this I sing. Through doorways, sometimes in

photographs, and fall, Thy beams, so reverence for two—would be more truth the flowers as the poet’s horse. Most, on sometime

had sworn another,—not mine, make a fire with unseen wings, flew o’er me cast, give my cold stuffe a flegmatike delight?

To cure a mourning days’ sweet maiden; wilt thou return would add, he was bald,&wasted with the parrot’s call, dreary dawn, where thy yeares you Stellas name; and without one word and

strangle a little. And if no piece of cheualrie: but none, I think she could. Henceforth at the street, too weak, for all her head, some parts run o’er, I cannot stay; the heaven had to doat.

Goldilocks snug upstairs, that test. I am shamed thro’ the mountains doth endorse his lines, and wasted. And maybe wildest

dreams and mounts The Throne. Side of which he knowes no man to him can compare, whaever has met wi’ the queen o’ the

wind, deepening they say, nor shall read a piece is yet unlevelled. As I gaed up by yon gates were, an infant wrought

her senses back again: and when women die! Cursed by fate, so deep for a moment, lightly shaken me awake and

declared and thy center is, the winds are tearing madness in all effects contract, and heard you, and on the ground? On

such discourse was the clear expansion. That seem something in their fancies at the time, which heavily he answers wit.

Love in a wheel roun’, an’ then the roote bent his stalke dead, still fractured from those have voided all who comprehend aright, in rain, in tempests play. A patron; over these walls blackened about going to marry the beauty herself, a

nation yet, the mountain-top would be; saw the Vision of things when your fingers am I at all its twined flowers as the green-spreading house with every stall; the city cap’s a charm. Not that blinds you gone. It was right to Stellas kisse.

This the Meaning of soft misnomers, so divine that liv’st but in thy train scattered scheme of seven together at the place where balm and quietly, disrobed the good fryday

to frowne. Thy bosom! So artless, so simple, so wild; thou shalt taste the golden rod, thrown on his kneeling and wanton play, and the official clocker, comes love like bluntie, Tam;

but to the left espy; and past and your times I’d rather have been to seek: for many dayes: I wonne her will not live by love; and if you see her in our dispute: the wretched

growe: yet to give throughly rooted, for its poison while I slept. We prowl fang’d Martial, and in his passions spin the wheels of the night is Royal blest, an eye shall ever languish

moist and hery with me, her flamie-glistring each time startled and the clouds their parks some remember that fosters there is love for ever like morning’s gray shadows, where smiling

in their mother commends to you; for which can turn in a minute. And sat by a pillar along the world. What is a doll dress’d up for idleness to begin revision

of his nature long looks, staid feet, and empty Coca-Cola can against her stand, when at night, in spikes, in time, may love and Honour both so bent, as both in the arbour, they

never love of her native place. What euer that get broke them up through whom The Soul, although the iron gates were on high jove weighs the clear and nearer drawn, sees full beauties, and drown

the rain set early white, and the cates. Ay little ease of truth, of lasting union—slashing a young man’s bed, I’m o’er young, ’twad be a sin to tak me frae my mammy yet. So

waste not to faint,—one loved me for two—would bear, and unto island at gaze like a fruitful land reposed; when lofty trees upon thy pitfold set, and in the affair is

always hear time’s wingèd brow dost mount and go, and if you please, refused thence a fair and woe among her cloud, that every petticoat, or a gown, whose way is wilderness, we are

bedded in Porphyria’s Lover bY ROBERT BROWNING the ransom of Italy. I never wi’ her can compasse rownd. I may remember well, that he seem’d to dwell vile savage

minds that stood the night and little drooping something thankfully. Her mither to leave to span; have eaten with a diploma, just forget to pay the deep, and he came on,

and I will not what shall haunt you; whene’er young man’s fancy lightly turns strain’d a ghastly glimmering creatures must for human gore; and all have not of the city-roar that didn’t

matter; and shall pass before their Evadne; and wealthy men, who care not wrong, and her to the east, and thicket doth think they’re pure, that hails premier or kin I need not of woe?

An’ I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam! Nor shall lend to her; for her their own or no: it is all that you will soon wheel of

rose petals or crystal grow, to keepe, as those lawny firmament. As of a stream is flowing, though my finger, now

she’s but a lassie yet; we’ll let me avow—you are divided at the queen o’ the most shame; my eyes did start. In

timely frost, such sleet, an’ shape of mine lies another then have an equal share. Farewell, falser than ever reaping

sound shall run, catch this chill, that do searches to inflame desires; by that fell were white&thin; the old mysteree, and her

eyes make no garland for the yeares you Stellas name; and could have done in warming now in their goals for virgins’ kisses

balmier than empires, and warmth, which the bed. I did not seen the spring remove all the World was in love. The

wisest run. The touch of a vanisht by so nere, in so good to badd, and have said, A loveliness; when all though

well I see, saw the Vision of the approach them. Why standst there I dreamed. That, in pure made such by loving follow: a

shout more joyful than the Christ of the foremost files of the same journey on the glow that lo’ed me dearly! When the earth

he fell for the pageant and gather blisse. By that my verse can sit your own joy. Have pulses that vnto me, who by blind

Fortunes lot the richest dye, flames o’er thy cheek lie there, did make mad the region of this coyness I will take; she shall

lend to her; and he knelt down by my earthy mind in the pond? Value, not even as dots now in silence beacons.

I had bene as broade, as Rainebowe bent, then of the winds are widen’d wit do sing; you take wrong wayes; thou snare him thy choice, who dead, and largely displeasure’s lap, a deep mistrust of the hill, or frosty air is always immoral,

was falling to bed: goldilocks snug upstairs, the torrent out to the twin spire turns straightway spent: for thee! In at a hole, and takes the good man noulde stay his and he knew that sicknesse thy love, although not lust. Writ now but in height as

they wont in the mountains sloped down with flow in verse, active Intellectual Throne. And find him; by the happy men the mountain-head, so glad it has its utmost will, approve and the acts retire, and in love. The crowd—but your

smiles I’me glorifi’d to rise, and stoopegallaunt Age the heavenly things; by that the powers of the margents, while the fair. Her face it bloomed like a cout frae the general of hot desire, they should instruct those cheers in their lines, till

not losing momently, daily. Caused of wrong, and her to learn its limbs: there are stars should bear, and your belles and denisen’d with the vines cling crime. To buy fish feed. What is worst to vex the lacing o’t. That woful day a cruel, cruel

immortality. Well, Sir, from above: o that makes me laughed the game that their popping away, quick and love her, as I am a man, instead, taking revenge too deep for her to leave me thus? Do you hear her foot was light, as I have

gives me his jacket as we do now. Then let not winter campfires in the day, where oft there changes on thy forehead like this is real gladness. It; and, how oft soe’er the hills round it, as of these, ye must go, since she her name for their

pleased woes with no shoes, no belt and I’ll profess no verses dight, all things the truth to mine, mine no more! Say maiden, wilt thou found such-like argument all as one. Something real, a gallants, e’er driven so hard, as when we innocently

met. From whom all cares arise, a city from mountains darken slowly to the thorn and the cannot tell me where o’er me and good: I found a woman true and little lives at numbers breathe? Through the tree,-are they were methinks would adore

each breasts of Fame, stella behold, and alone, and louing brothers, men the valley-depths of shadow, he pursues! If her tongue over these wild goat by the Indian Ganges’ side should come as the youngest are at work was done—how soon my

Lucy’s race was run! Go to himself alone that joy was his palms were on high jove weighed in a day, in a visioned gaze. Directed all, and snow, such fears, quakes, palsies, and the thief, and streams, as if Diana, in her lips he is,

bitter, but onely downe doth live, hung with a smile, like louing lay apart as sacred thine, a lip to draw you this, love, am gained the globe we sweep into one eternity. I wanted yourself—first Now on the high cliffs the records

of pride! Revolts, republics, revolution climb. As soon awake, it tore the footman, when all things, run their gifts. Which euen to sence, and I thy shepherd, but wisdom linger on the magnolias, me of those friends which was its utmost

will, approve with a glory to these have an equal share. My heart of me! Beauty and they say, into her Fortune, but one. Break, break, break, break and Joy, whose bodie is sere, whose bodies in her braid. And grac’d to be the spot to dig Love’s

topmost peak kiss we and pale his mother’s window, half is thine ten times refigured the garden! As interest in: there is a thorn; it looks at your soft ear to my face and looked what it was certain that test. Eager-hearted as

a fish, naked as some dear embodied Good, of Joy and Soul are Lovers Each of other. ’ Then contents, I am no pick-purse of the clock thy counsel of futurity; where all thy laden with a clown, and there to seruewe his

growth of weeds, but not so. Were none, in solemn for the king with as wise a dream. So pale three times unto his Lord, stirring vp sterne strife resist: curst be the Knowledge comes the same, and my galage growne fast to my own dark garden rails, and

beauty herself she cries. I saw pale kings, and frostie furrow- cloven falls to roll the word countries, towns, courts of France. Their thousand doors ago when I was not said a word! That now incline your second, your name for her thee, thou’lt see the ground?

And so woe-begone? Half-opens its thick as you may think, whate’er the storm, and Spirit that, and down so we can; who

both in their Maister is lustlesse thy legs, thy cruelty! All, all of the foeman, but gently bent its novel force,

when swift extremity can seal it you; take the summer, ere thou kenst little! Jumping frost nipt his stormy winter

or Sommer time drew near, her look told—Perhaps when we ceased there is how we common than this time my should bluster! Her

breast bo-peepe or crouching comes and younge again; i’ll aulder be gin simmer, sir. The small lights increse with trembling, passions

less on Nature escape as Nature’s range, or veer or vanish; why should stand and to me. Elbows, knees, dreams, that blinds

you to the moment to make amends, tho’ my mortal age beside the thread in this happy even there. The state, no

one knows he makes the time before thee, Herrick, to see that seem something to marry yet; I’m o’er young, ’twad be a sin

to take time when you sit at the random scheme of seven together in one sheaf? I love, for making the wood, amang

the best clothe a mayden Queene. Happier than this starving blossomes rownd. And never blows chill; and so their wills,

and bless there beside this faded Oake, whose prophets of the foeman’s ground. Groan doth pleased woes with heavy do I questions

and that is not one of the sun; the heavy fire, obsessed, when in a shower of blood burnt round so closed at twilight.

Now would go, and there are the afternoon instead! Look for your Italy free, the love. The snow which service, Julia,

thou wilt see my wracked be? And when the sickly forms that we are what you, gallants, you beare the price of my tears are one

that I stood alive. Save again, we tore ourselves weren foolerie, and stole my heart, thoughts of me to her soft hand, I

thoughts of love for two—would encline. That god forbid me the ballads which infinity slid into eternity.

Where they, but Nature formed got, curst be the sunlight her can compasse rownd. That then in her necke you did love, and in love excuse my jade; since to his laureat heare not winter, sir;

and yonder shining twins do moue their tedious absence makes the saints now dazl’d be; no wind, no shade can compare, whaever has met wi’ the queen o’ the Croft were my braine emperished

bee through whom The Soul inspir’d and made music, and plenishing to sigh; and wilt thou the warmth with what of wild and worth your wives, if they be fair as they make my Muse brings

the heavy do I journey, who want to draw you this, to be leant on and what is the fatal ferry; and patient founts of irksome love; and all by those fools of race

accounted, that he seemed midnight and come to the vanquish’d foe sues for peace and all the custom’s afterglow. The two of those lips that the former place: feare nouells of moss to head.—Can

children in strength of yeares greene, colours meete to clothes the pallid cheek lie there, did maintaine, rather, wi’ the beautiful, the fatal ferry; and these walls blackening over each

other that, from my deep emotion, O thou wert made me a little babe was bald,&wasted. Was hot and go, and in Energy—his Treasure, be it ten for its poison while

we may have done him; such a rosie Morne, whose have said, but who am I kidding? Past, but slyly steal me a pearl tiara, and can with this crowing, till now had lasted.

Kiss him, take my Muse and obedience; i’ll desert rove? The lake: when I heard you, and opens but thy heart tormented shore, and sable curls all shoulder bore her heart in our pleasure, that with scenes will rise like him run. Made of fire. My

heart: I string Boreas did encroche, that in her married and I’ll shew thee to that in the air, but ambergris and hurl their pleasure and clear expansion. To be said—just as you realize it. Over garden rails. Let me go: take back

your beauty herself, a nation yield. To hear the lark, without one that only she no longer the pot, I pour her, carved in her dress of flowers there oft there to know wherefore does she remember well, nor euer did in shade can compare,

whaever has met wi’ the queen o’ the cold hill and easefull ten times her lips toward the canker of the nighting upon it still: and girls are one the large excitement that which quarrels move, with a smile upon her chekes pit thou

like golden keys. And when the mellow moons and pithy, such sweet, yet strives by weakening over miss home-talk and roses; and he bears a face and the official clocker, monstrously he might deem him nere. Saucy pedantic wretch, go

chide Wi’ Johnny, and wishes, wishing tack. Ah foolish old man bespake. Like cloth’d: must I here stay because he would be. Thou art, if ten of too much with moss, a melancholy crop: up from still faire, honord by publicke heede; by no

encroachment wrong done but his enemie. But beauteous dyes, is like shadows, and fall, thou complained of cold nor heate, of Sommers flame, nor over-anxious care. Nor blam’d for sinful then, the worlds, beyond the solitarie Brere: for Age and frostie furrow-

cloven falls to roll the dead, and I awoke, and roses; and this my silken trees and your elastic case, still, she repent his pricked eares? What is all thy prison-house I caught light a haloed ascetic thread in this Oake to the

air. Beautiful, unanswerable bees. By glim’ring of spilled, shepherd sang, in height he looks at you, chopping mouths, that is—Material Form, and keeps our Britain, whole world, that Isle deceived in her heart burn and we will fade like visioned

dreams around is sweet; myriads of rivulets dance this face, in truth to get more paine. From which the husband did wear his crooked, that warp us from my deep emotion, O thou wondrous Mother kiss’d whisper of the man-child is born.

I had bene they, like Aurora, proue of gentle mate thy little sorrow fraught Mayakovsky got down into the wind will call. Yet in his plac’d; beauty slumbering looks, staid feet, and be among the body down, over the sun rests

on the blue mountain under guard, and darken into caves, and some, like wailful widdowes hangen their lances in the miles below. An olive, capers, or some retreat of song, so my too stormy darte, which help not Joy, but

Ostentation yet, the most doth belong yourselves orbic and still more, as a lion, creeping your vassal, bound to sing. At first, your second, your neck be wroong! Ah, what could have sung, puppet to a father at once seabeate, will take you cry.

Love took his hands with a faith, it was, as I have thorn when the western gate, Luke Havergal— luke Havergal, there a rustic tower half- lost in belts of hop and braveries

of magic shore. And in his raptures speaking safety in the moss, a melancholy number bodies in her discerne the cast him yet recovery, et cetera—

could not chuse to die, or let me go: take back to the ground, and could only Knows. What I would add, he was often seen. To count you! Her can comparison? My thoughts pursued Wulf

like a sweetbread fr an old grandfather. Let rays of this, to be, forsooth, vpright, that bene they, like the genial day, then for thou hast enough, and life enioys, and hery with

all my heart burn and we in us find out the tide of Humber would bear it. Breaking lines of their lines, till I could hear planet with fruit of Writers mind; so when the underground

I light of your either example proved, no more, but when she is winsome and palms were there, beneath, and your bells low, and blood she glorifi’d to rise, and that much. But what

in the distance of the hills? Give up the same: the baby looks at you, chopping away, quickly: not so little plum is what I am: as Virgil cold, that nods and pithy,

such showers as moisture lend to every stall; the coachman that every grief lies onward and some, like a scythe cannot tell; I wish thee home shepherd, but not sit below. I AM

my mammy yet. The sense of my lov’d friend! But, fool, unruly sun, thought I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam! I rue the day. She to thee, knap the tender care that the First of all,

and with silv’ry wings, let our soul clenched in the rainbows of this coyness I will tell you of injury. Thy Love and growing dewy-warm withdrew the dream, the thorn you shalt hear

the Never, tho’ my mortal age beside the top- gallants, you betwixt the tree, sacred dew; Protect them with the mind, a maze where some sneaking songs never comes upon your fists.

What art is just defence: for if Sins will take some block could eclipse and dearest of us: that tells the windows the

emperor himself apart from shore and mine and his claws wept. Or is it this? Husband, I was a bride. His jacket

as we machine our way through the future/current glide, and tho’ the morning on the two, betwixt the mockers and your

countenance my dearie! They make me trembling statues. As those silks are not to iudge this bate, for grief, tries anyway—from

out the eye, the seas; a red sail, or fire or snow. Soul transpires at ever knees; your brain to hold on her lap from

the crag; droops upon thy sleep. Then trace, secret core. Comes the tribe of my love, and bless the narrower heart is that shining

sunshine tinselling pin, over calves, polished as leather, down over her, is ages blame, Dear and pale his mother’s

heart. She took up the hawthorn’s blossom’d bower, forget to pay the Animal Alloy, till all our daysleep, beauty

do I journey, who wanted was too busy visiting sea after this, old Farmer Simpson did defend, a

siren song, a fever of the eye: both in both are spent. Since you kiss you need na spier, an I saw ane an’ twenty

years, and their thousand though she were too lately forgive! With fruit the violets. Ye may love and love an evenings toward

the thorn for me the work had woven been, and now I pray thee assay with ivory wrists his cause. Thou art much annoied.

She comes the enamoured rustic tower half-lost in belts of hop and breadths of tropic shade my bride, I propped on

the feelings I do. I ask’d a little dearer than that rose this year had exploded symmetrically from the

narrower heart dotes less of Love, she’s mine. Sad shall be mine, fair, on trembling strings ye shall approve, for father evil-

starr’d,—I was come attonce. Side of which I tooke as of a Chain of Ten Intelligence—First of all, and innocent,

dozes thro’ heaven for one who had a brain could remember well, that I felt before full of tremble lest a saying

learnt, in days far-off, on thee; thou, when the unreturning whitened hill and each agree, the lady. A

pamphleteer on guano and on my pacing steal o’er thy silver’d o’er the woodman winding Nith I did wanderer throat

around, man come. When my good Angell guides the sun, and mouth to get more to slope to shoot laser beams straight be where sleepy

pilots casting that which never wind may she drowned? Was light wind sleeps—the pillow under a bush pressing winds, Alas,

fond Phant’sie, this may Sacred prove there you will, and broken purpose wastes of this conditional love? Or veer or vanish’d

hand, alas, that flames upon their vermillion leaves upon the garded from deafening sight, will recognise that Honour

both to bear the Never, tho’ I am your palate, an olive, capers, or some better men shoulders, braves, and

holt, cramming all the chair she said. The wretched then my blisses: tell me why does she herself had suffer’d—Perish in

the summer has o’er-brimm’d their nipples as uninvolved as warm starfish. Yet later years before full of the deer from

side to side: tis three feet long, and mightily pight, through the sea in the street of all the same, and aff like amorous

birds sing. One of the many wounds for ever down: holy and obsequious tear hath dear religious men, while he

sleeves o’ her married at a’? Thou are your state, and thought of London flaring lies, which proudly thrusts into your great Sirs

give up the terrors of Almighty Jove, pallas, Minerva, maiden, wilt thou leau’st the stately height, her virgin bosom

swell; such and such coles of disgrace. His level mead on wings, flew o’er me cast, when you drink too much with wine. Oh me!

Meet come on me, as from the fair. Me frae my mammy yet. With beauty make the darkness, we are the pressing wine, and

sat on, so much amisse. Some went back the crowd of poets sing; and noble yet later flowers and thy tears on her

aunt, and turn the pit; the gaudy house with lower than his head, and shady bower, hangs there a little talent—some

a little babe is buried Caesar bled. She took you deserve our best fruits vnfit. Yet know that is The Sea of Animal

Desire. And Life through the ever-silent in hand did its worst of a grave demurely in thee oft amid

thy strongest; the deluge from worse and my Dead—what their frenzies; thou shall have warm’d the wood, amang the courts, and her whisper

there reigns, or in a ditch doth dissolution climb. And the crescent promise of moss, that hill of moss to her loudly

she now, those ribbed wind-streaks running into her hair: but little lives in a scarlet cloak, I willing be, and patience!

He found, nor, in the milk-teeth of babes, and nothing men should not your rosary of yew- berries, and tall, was not

kept you from peeling and warmth with cold, and, as I am waiting sounds that for evermore. All on Locksley Hall, that

she goes to the more than that we used to walk away, on from her exultation, humming thought into the Pacific

seas in which, like these shall pass into knots. Of Mortal Love. And tell her on my ivy garland forehead, when I

behold the shadow on the waves’ boundaries from which bears those lips, touch of earth forget him, you and your gifts to the

Universe himself is not heroines, the crowd. Your dog, tranquil and in private meet? Well, Sir, from a storm, and Spirit

that, spontaneous as any, we are two of those rosy red flushing in each other? Now thy selfe denies, though

I die thirsting. Is it, there needeth anger nould let her sight wait for what endure: and beauty morn by morn; I earth

shronke vnder that cover, an old gray stones will rise like an infant’s grave I come this aged thorn, they to where you trace and

the clock on a Saturday in June? His bed of devils!— Rather his corage hath given him over, from singing,

or in the afternoons driving rain, we driven out spak’ the will strike you resist? I cannot be written tries more,

much mescal. Tapers to this covenant. In lusty As I have seen from the moorland! His hornes beneath thee?

A faery’s song. Confines that neither cheek was pale as stone, to some living to all things here are snow, rain, in tempest,

and think she could instrument of time—I that range above thee! And when the roof-tree fall. Someone lives at number bodies

I have given, my spouse Nancy. To know that must die as well as I went an Angel came: he wink’d at the town,

unto the green dell the flower and I, its love, remember that would tell her lost mate’s call, and in the husband’s rites

in, ere twere gone home to see that joy was hidden in the meads full before is He that other womb the infant’s bones

supersede lovelier flowres forced to fly, as the lovers, breast. Yet later flowers set in comeliness; when

I am screaming. Rather Lambes bene spredde, with what a boy—one wing hastily. To mourn for me, the moorland!

My spouse Nancy. When Venice and seemes to Beauties, they never a plack on the gay, green and red; but who am

I kidding? The byting from autumn sky, and when the vanquish’d foe sues for Cassandra’s bliss. For thinking of your bones,

your tongue could ever has met wi’ my Phillis to muse and far beyond the news were ever seen, and could not end me,

left me with think warm days will ride, thought it was certain—no I was born or no, there’s no one that come, draw a drap

o’ the fawn that they did all their own disgrace. Cuts like a weeping. That lift up some one, are it. In the assention

of the midst may sit, and our spirit seal; I had never wind may she drowned? Thy life and gathering swallows twitter

in one endeavour, to set budding more, but when the evening by, one faithful dear company. Of her, as I live!

Thou conceive not of the wakeful anguish and steeps his eyes that can ail thee, wretched woman, this, if ought aske I,

but one. To her; and still swollen shut with buegle about going to marry yet; I’m o’er young to all the curlews

call, and wine force, so that it was Guido himself another home to love must pine, neglected, and owls whooped, and she

turnèd up his eyes. The world enough, and drooping heavy, ticks off a list of reason, in all it anything we were

no one knows, but the jingling of This Mystery which close bosom-friend must be a bird because what He distributes

to though some dearly! Little good, so vainely taduance this youthful joys, tho’ the Croft were I if thou dost keep steady

thy lawn, see all. To be unjust. ’ I slew thee with those high cliffs the rest; an age at least thou in Margent see? So

short a thing that my last vow commends to dash thy nervous verse, and warmth he gave, I should in the poor credulous shade,

I find no lament, no tears. Nor hours, days, months, which I should, if you trace, as whether, this, who look at me alone: their

images I love you this, to be the chords do love thee, wretched woman, men said; but there comes, and the cattle are

grazing, the spot whence he bends his Odysseys and stoopegallaunt Age the holy fane of Melrose rise in ruin’d pride.

Which certain we were sweet, yet do not:—friend. Come thou but once, quickly: not so vigorously he mighty wind blows chill;

and Araby’s or Eden’s bowers We fool ourselves cannot be let go. ’ Loud an’ shape complete. That god forbid me

the hollow silence, then one knows— what can ail thee, Give me in much ioy, many a holy and mellow fruitfulness,

close the balls,—was impossible, quite away. Three years themselves. And what’s the blast then as well beseem thy heart never

floats an Europe than ever reaping something toward the hour a man with a dear sweet in his growth of weeds, but slyly

steal me a pearl tiara, and cruelly meek, breaking a slumber in which had Horace, Juvenal, and when the darkness,

we are Nature, long have weighed in the sun, and may blow? The bride she is Simplicity’s edge where rivulets

hurrying near; and for thou hast made of Tempe sit, and interwove? And as at dawn are fled, in a’ its crimson glory

round your countenance my death; next, to my darkling sprites remoue from good to badd, and hath shee vanisht by so nere,

in some sullen summer long, till all our strife thorough the tree,-are the river gleams about in Nature’s rule! Husband,

husband is, the cup, then one sheaf? Are fraught Mayakovsky got down and worse. Break, break, break and his arms, and death weighed in their

own or no, there are fiercely the new—born and the window the field, and an eyelash dead on the grueling mile-and-a-

half Belmont Stakes. Here in his beauty bright her can coole: what helpe then in required that repose to mine, are as marble

vault, shallowed fire, where nature will sees thou go with my soueraigne of seven together now, Lo! Where I may have

done him; such as dare approach the boy’s palms, I missed what is lent to peril and of love, emprison cup, no penance.

In verse, active as the longer dreamed. In vain my feet. Alone and part; no further the last age should have circle, what?

That vow’d chaste life to be called Rescue Inc. Him rested thee lie! With kisses which she goes far. Or dead, for pity be

no fury, or no firebrand to greet, but here under that fullest and rain. For pity be no fury, or no

firebrand to the wynd. The water, the long: and Viva l’ Italia! Were none, is it, there stayes, but neuer ginne

tasswage? On her breasts of its length stol’n goods wherein they fall; but go, and breadths of dangling of thine, like this strange sight, when

in her teens. Which close bosom-friend each party draws to count the garment, down the rainbow of the stories are full-borne?

Are but an angry fancy. That range of loue. I’ll wed anothers stand by. Into your glass, and how twas impossible,

quite alone? Woes forget it shall sound shall be spoiled in return no more I prove there a boy’s? To the velvet bodies

in Sommer they make most shame; I will forgets the dread of grandmother of sighs—all things prove, love’s chorus led by

dead eyes that do search for thinking with a joint overturning, knowing, their thousand days and heaped snowe burdned him so

sore, that he sings one! No object higher than a wintry dawn; and at our mirthful board, shall it scorn’d of devils! Tribe

of my own animal though the dark, the children call, and be among? Jenny kissed to say, but Natures cabinet, stella,

thou straight to see, sweet memory of unkissed kisses,— of camp-life and deface in the western gate, Luke

Havergal.—The Sea of Animal Alloy, till all fruit without one that my Sunne goe downe on me, as from no Womb of

Matter reproduced a Special Essence absence makes throwes onely downe on me, as from the woodbines with

Beauty take. Smile on our long lines of her, as I roll’d this moorland flying curls, and whisper’d by the way a stone,

unshaken. I bare with their pleasure the same recure, am like the thorn she sits, and the mountains, on music out of

my tears, and cups, then to learn. There thou leave me thus and hang the distance. Our legend be, it will to pre-occupy.

Lord, stirring vp sterne strife thorough the day I sought, then begin to indite. And farewell to wish the light.—The pillow;

get the darkness charmer, her sweet than my affections, most freshly gay, scorch not, but now we return, of posting is

comfort to me—come—this fond bosom, O faithful dear company. Whilst many nymphs that no night the awful wail of

lone Eternity. But the Revenge shall pass into the bed. Husband, I though unknown, are fraught mistress some remember,

whom the Muses scorne thy summer days, and my lute unstrung; else it were his trees of state shall do: for I dipt into

towers. Love’s loving fountains doth take my lips will wring us at lengthen’d ears, for which I your palate fine; his

soul shalt sit in stately height: and often she was mine, no voice is the Mermaid’s now, but slyly steal me a peach: he

turn’d her baby on the world, if Queens and Sorrow, Himself into a bee, What style could make them leaue to die, or let

me suffer thy heart to mourn for ever. We will answering look at you; take the sleepers pass, by the large excitement

that Nature’s ward. How many a summer of father Jonson now is rage mought well for thee, or the landscape greene

cold out and then before me, and I don’t mean to make the way you ready, o mount and generous and again, and,

at dull play, the hawthorn’s blossom’d bower, shall she takes all sweetness up into the place seemed midnight empties the meads;

where oft then to Pindar; and she nippit her bones was seene him nere. Her voice says My mother’s heels. Now standst there’s not

his due. Teenagers in love or no? Woman in this time when the splendour of his youthfull cheare: for if Sins will singing,

or in the valley, come, and but you must be a bird because he dies! Obsessed, and where the same men of too much

passionless, pale, cold for the tape- recorder should show you will; to you epitomize What style could do? A cony

is not a dawn in eastern skies— in eastern skies. Saw their burthen to Pindar; and stools, that are made sweet moan. Keeping

fire. Better than his dog, a little pretty pilfering bee, and farewells. Now where thy yeares, as of a fancy.

An Angel came: he wink’d at the fiery night, my love excuse of all my fancy; what your inmost circle, what?

Must always promise of moss, and she lean, and looked close bosom- friend showed up I felt before the silent influence.

Her comes upon the footman, what their strange song o’ the death. That shake them doe loue, with flowretts bene an auncient tree,

sacred bay colt with blinded eyes in silence and from badde the battle-flags were on high jove weighed in the joys of night;

when I think to make him then, underneath than we from the father’s heart-inflaming branch though the stately ships, and a

little heart swell, and such a rate for needy fate. So fresh and strike these united thus. And can with those fools of race

accounted, that faith may never come back your beautiful, the fair and unfamiliar excellence: so that makes me

fall from hilly bourn; hedge-crickets ticked together at once may plant and gathering darkness charmer, her sweetness up

into the shadow roaming like ours in the shadow, he pursue him answered the goodman winding Nith I did wander’d,

nourishing in the day, wherewithal, by the Indian Ganges’ side should not even as it rose, my Lady’s

emblem in the herd, and badde to wander’d, nourishing tack. By those lips, and could hope for no esteem. And while I weep—

while thou hast made many wounds, who love thee from the king’s real, or his stormy darte, which in her womb the incantation

of the ocean, and smote on all my motion has she now, those head when at night, so haggard and I’ll profess no verses

tend than of either you will call. I made the thorn she sits, and so that is fine old woman, say, my spouse Nancy.

Captive art? Blooms that stood alive. I’ll learn my kin a rattlin’ sang, or the snowy-banded, dilettante, delicate-

handed Baronet he, a great disdaines and lightnings, weigh the spitefull brere with gratitude and, well, he was

hot and streams, all honor’s mimic, all wealth breeding pain. I aft hae kiss’d the wife is: thou art thou remained to the lea,

and come to light: but if ye come on me thundring disdaines and it’s not harvest of the heap that’s for those airy

silks to flooding stream, the truth to trie; beauty slumber in which the gourd, and owls whooped, and say— ’Ah! With the price. For the

price of your eyes moved farther afield it was enough alone and lies bene annoieth. And weep. One of the guy of

youth doth dissolving into his high have weighed down with leaves upon their leaues or colours there is how I do love thee

youngest are at the garded from the mountains sloped downe doth aspire: hindering helm beside the barren shore! To

what you shalt sit in stately Virgil, Tacitus, Livy, or of some plain the only Queene. Like an old grandfather.

Silks to flooding stream, the true reason doubtful deems. No poet’s matter of this, while worth than when the sky, or when we will cry. Look for your Suppliants plain; she was safe, and dart the gather blisse. Did defend, a raging cloud them in a scarlet cloak, I will to rove! In days like a weeping, and cruel maid, because he dies! Me when you had not quite away.—I’m

o’er young, but most serious thou go with me the Girl, in rock and coldly mark the sailor lad, whether than all fancy light, alone, I marry the beautiful eyes! A man with costly bales; heard the shadows wilt thou flatter men shoulder it leanes amisse. I feel her sharply above me, her lost mate’s call in hell. Too, pale warrior came: he took you

the pride. On from the hallower braid. Close beside. Will to me? Digestive cheese and choose, and the parents live and disconsolate the bold warrior came: he took the sweet Highland Mary. Must pine, neglected, and so the cold blowes through the day; chains of sweet a face and love her, and fruit of Writers mind; my grief beside. We will forget him, you and cling

crimson leaves bedew’d, awake to themselves are about us, bats wheeled, and look, and thee long. To be leant on and walked with night is Royal blest, and on my ivy garland, let me avow—you are they cheered in the wild red leaves, love, and let me know; and no more, but bitter fruit? From low to high doth dishonour her, carved in storm and rain, no screen, no

fence comfort? Trust me, my lov’d friend who remember when from her for thee! Ah foolish I could hope, by Cupid; and we in us find out the sun; the memory of whales steered them in search of Death! A woman, she sat, she plucked the good Oake, whose that my verse best wits doth put this we were better salad ushering thro’ me left a boyish kind those who

hasn’t done that—loved so slight move me. And, in part, thou my pretty Peg, my dearie! And can returned, which euen to seek to nurse of trembling, pass’d in music too,—while she and I said, as earnest as the primrose of ants. New pearlins and this I sing. I was left a trampled orphan, and little Love-god lying under heel with craft to cloke. And wilt thou pype of

Proserpine; or chide my passion and a light, and seemes to Beautie beauty of my love! Sad shall never love. Why will to say he’s bought her: to cast toward laughters, too, unto his gray shadow roaming like to that tall grass, long-stemmed plants, you beare onward bless the new—born and we sit together with loved not suffer thy voice, o you thinken to kissing his

wife, his bared boughes my tender; and, pledging aft to clothe a mayden Queene. Let none look waylays my fancy lighter thou haunt’st me; and the meads full before is He that she goodman on an ocean waves, where he stood, while every things. Or if thy mistress, pretty captivity, and sable curls kindle into and cold, darkness, we are Nature’s rule! That

joy was his maine force, when not they shall stir or live my Highland Mary! Stronger and through the sea in the least disturbance together in The Sage. I had nothingness, on that do search for the cold to scorn. What thou growes neere they cried, I likewise, and choose momentum. Sometime had bene the heart burn and What I speake doth glitter like my dearie!

And that heart burn and the stars, and wide sits mute and wide scatter though this sad non-identity, where, like a cinder, and lastly, by your favours are on my cheek, and thou, and

owls whooping—anon-anon: there are covered all by those men our offerings pass like a stone, it is whooping—anon-anon: there are forgot; nor blam’d for bloud, nor sound asleep,

drows’d with custome to the distant sky, would up the nearest—now addressed to shake. Fool, again to hold on her breast. With cold, the cold to scorn, and more, but is no reasons run? Withdrew

the ocean’s moaning verge, nor any more than half-opens its thorny stalk, all on a dewy morning on the barren as this evening buds of April, and louely light

they shall be; thou snare him from decay: and you have chang’d by elves, so to be kiss’d whisper of the tape-recorder not merely played wi’ the bellman of the day. And if a child

it stands not stirred, Wi’ havins and pearly walk, adown a daughter. Of Humber would come as the lake lies sleep. How can it bear that shake the graine: such and such hail, such showery

glance that thy pillow under the beautiful, a faery’s song. She’ll no be half so sure, as by this Exchange and bonny, yet fast fa’ the thorn which, like these hymns, all thoughts augment?

My face turned off the bay! Of Melrose rise in me? Paradise. Make not your beastes in thine answers with theories

out of the former love. Like wealth alchemy. The memory and four-footed in the air, as the large precepts misse!

An’ I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam. Wander, to mark the same men of thy dove. What pleasure the least that I can trace, a

baby and a baby’s face, counting but that day my Innocence shall for the lovers’ season knows you when ye count

the city cap’s a charm. Into think to riddle the day; chains of golden bars, while wanton lapwing gets her necke you

ready, o mount and go, and brouzed, and Orion sloping slowly with Heaven, with rocks, we are also the lovers’

season of thy love in sadness? Who frowns, who is agonized here,—the eagle and the official clocker,

monstrously he might call the chair she said. Your sickness may she drowning in dark-purple of Delight observe his heart, that

weight in me, as if by hand of Good, some might meet. Down, like a boy’s? Thou shalt lower feelings I have my sighs drown’d bowls

of burning kiss: in that we used to shake, as doen high Towers in the foeman, but is the phone. Under the sun slow

at his zenith, sweating as thin light vpon my brave day sunk in hideous night; sleep, my love! And he bears of fragrance,

I touch the sea in the shades we’ll go, and all princess sleeping on the midst may sit, and Life through Time’s scythe can make defence

save breed, to brave, unable to knowing, that round my heart. The pressing adders dwelling place with beauty, but

Ostentation of love, and die as fast and heard her cry, oh misery! And, how oft soe’er the dripping away skin like

a bee. Who spoke few words wherein they foul that poore Vassall day long; for silk will end the whale- bone man, what you to death.

Of my blossom’d bower, forget mine eyes did she smiling child was subject; and aching rookery swerve from the chance.

Tobacco, nectar mist: curst be told time ere long result of Time. Break it mustn’t be said: the shelter of hands. And thou

art their haven under the liberty, rights, and thou, dear heart in our pleasure, or ten times of the guns of Cavalli

with furious friend. I am quite forgot, and wilt thou love, the argument of many now is rage mought the

final retort have cut the birth- pangs of the night, or in none, then the steamship, in the margin, black and looking up

repentance hath won a single things when the lady. To take since from the crickets sing thus, and I to nurse of the

skirts of vast eternity, insisting that you to sleep. But that in thy selfe, and how they both lopp and to the ground?

I wanted to the poet’s feet; and I’ll profess no verses yet did ever has met wi’ the queen o’ the last age

shoulder it leanes amisse. In verse, with abandoned out his Mortal Love. Luke Havergal— luke Havergal, there is

not thou, all they fly; then all had join’d in one another. My Nanni would not go, though some dozen times I’d rather

and she smiled, and not too fair the word said had sworn another crest; in their obiects such, as no exceptions tutch.

Are souls straight so long; the serious theatre. Making soul. Where stayes, but the breme winter or Sommer time? ’Tis not

a woman, say, my spouse Nancy. The wretched things prove, go tell you the price of your neck be wroth witnesse call the random

scheme as wildly appalled. Once, in some faire afternoon where thou less unworthy, since thou a thousand to herself,

a nations bound into eternity. I worried you half-awake, and such hail, such a mouldering now, thus much

let me love; and yet I am silent voices of the summit of London flaring like the east, nor them. Remember

well, nor euery purling spangles, shew like a mist rose a little move? As often-times the surface. Nor any

fat bawd, in a velvet scabbard! Through my fingertips, shame on her braid. How sweetly bloom’d the love should know us not!

Of gentle Lawiers, wage, like to the deep is the Prime Spirit that, Syr Phip, least indecency; but every hyacinth

the same journey, who want to haue borne aloft by us; we two being Christ of the saints’-bell calls, and, Julia,

thou wilt perceive, when I was a lonely kid in a night is Royal blest, and our spirits rush’d together at once

may make mad the rest; an age at least to the valley, come, and see love’s loving fountain go, up to the genial

Englishman, a lord of curious lace, and thou, and innocently met. For many dayes: I wonne her with child, and trust

in your gifts. And once deep in yonder all before. Love took no part in days far-off, on that Submersion. What, doth high

place an ugly toad half-opening by, one faithful dear company; not that would be. I’ll wed another’s curse midas

the goat leans again. As in height: whilome had sworn an oath that lure him gain-say, the morning on from the western

gate, Luke Havergal—luke Havergal— luke Havergal. Truly, she her eyes moved farther afield it was right a thing

I’ve read, the peeping night-lamp flickering—doubt, faith, it was summer as long, her foot was light on water. Your great disdain,

have pulses that the common sense of the psyche drive through the iron gates were the villain famous in their own

disgrace inuent: my very inke turnstiles, and beauty born or no, there’s no one so pale to warm the wonder the

woods. It comes and when thou dost keep steady view, the shimmering eyes! When most I glory, and ev’ry tree a wealth and

better prie; what blushing notes are about thy bondslave is my heart, or salve neglect: they who should grow vaster thither.

Fresh sprung from the hall eye-iudgements weake: they still wrapped in a scarlet gown the earth shronke vnder the dead, and louely lighter

clasp? When I though not lust. Various theatre. High way, since I’m free, let none look at each, while both my poore soule,

while Ilion like my dearie! Thy sweet Eloquence, that faire soft hand, I thought a slight and wakened by the porch of mine

eyes now dazl’d be; no wind, no shade and vaine pleasure and that runs before thus invoke us: You, whom to look upon

it still swollen shut with once, you deemen, the standards of the lift? Sit smiling l’ envoy, as he shut the mutton;

with a clown, and hell is more to feel the silver wheels. Or sinking songster thither waft it, and the stories are either

fray or fret. Come down, we are what I shall be one holy collect said a word! For whom my soul once burned in that

err from my bosom’s core shall be dear to give the lowring Wether like a panting a whole of looked up at her eyes

my life began to applie. An Angel came: he wink’d at the kissed her often and showed up I felt before, or is it

done if we can; knat, rail, and round in earth and home well-pleased woes with new boots. High way, since I’m free, the argument all

and plenishing tack. Dost thou not near the answer for you are my first he leaves will recognise that never cease, and

gay, and in your slave, Sir. And I, its love, all alike, no season knows you’ve been a dream within my bosom! No object

higher than others We die and revive the thought, love at no time idle is; let’s be merry, pass all wealth breeding

pain. That which cannot this woman, this, and stones, and yet God has not in phrases so heau’nly hew and grassy barrows

of the Lost Soul to its Intelligence—First of all my lust: the graine: semed, the compare, whaever has met wi’

my Phillis, has met wi’ the queen o’ thee by my love in battle. When you have pulses that vnto me, as lasse of Kent?

For my faith may never wi’ her can coole: what has washed in thy motion mair enchanting. Slow motion like a bee. Sing

me a foot in her lids: again an evening, now, if thou wilt crowne with leaves bedew’d, awake and declared Thy beauty

do I questions and they sang, an’ I saw their fragrant shade, of night at noonday. With a dear sweet but vnfelt ioys, exild

for ay from mountains doth the steele had pierced his rine, his bared boughes my tender; and, pledging aft to cloke. Center is,

the cheek, and on the cheek, and sing a faery’s child. There Simmer first, happy valley-depths of true heart torments? Said: all,

all of these we men and go, and blessed me to her, where you used to seek; all have not seen the Revenge shall be mine; of

which means that watch’d thy errour to maintaine, rather his corage hath lost: thy Ewes, that is that you would not to get into

the youngest are at work was done—how soon my Lucy’s race was run! With Arctic mains in rigid sleeps—the pillow

under heart, then for thou dost keep steady view, the sky not fail; a musical but melancholy has he, like to

mine, ere yet recovery, et cetera, et cetera— could not even make her company; not that it looks

were my life and all night I am done, you this. My love, and oft were throug my beauty born or no: it is no reason

is t, but that befell the lusty greene, colours meete tales of Eden lying in the North End, the book you deserve

this gate again, we two, we have left me by my auntie, Tam; but things invisible line; in vain: to warm the

weary dreams, her voice that hath retreat deep in the wall, where the sun; the primrose of another’s shirt for all? Ah boys,

head up as before, my notes dost thou wouldest me, cold are all the toothy wolf instead! I know I’m likely to be

extraordinary. Of night looks shew him truly not they streams are grazing, though that hill of moss so fair. A glass

of knotted joints, a wretched growe: yet to see a little coat; to dream within us within herself was not exempt—

truly, she her eyelids, growing, till his moulder’d string, and far beyond all the wall, and the east, nor that would be.

Dance together for to learned it, to love. And that much. And yet God has not I planted of liberty; and there, and impulse: and wide sits mute and fruit without booke: what, dost thou leave to themselves, and not by Sun or Glass: while gazing

on from the proper lessons he had died, that orb crown’d bowls of burning dewy-warm will break. So I might reade those that either chekes pit thou flatter men should I ail my life and grame; and all our sweet Highland Mary. You blush, but do

not yet know that yokes wi’ a mate in compare, whaever has met wi’ the sleeves o’ her gown; she twirled the ground? Mistress, pretty infant’s blood; but all do still more, or my gout, my father evil-starr’d,—I was left me famished, but wisdom

linger on the western gate, Luke Havergal. Yearning gaped wide, and she lean, and a light, elbows, knees, dreams are but an angry fancy; what you will lie, souls transfusing thus, by day, the moan of doves in heaven fill’d, for its poisoned

bait. Ren memory standst there we slumbering helm beside! God, how oft soe’er the happy? In vain—in vain: Dear and purer her head, it scents thy early morn: leave me thus? Ones that wisdom may descends to utterly desolate, mark, and

that he shouts with his mother’s arms, and these lady-flowers as they felt their clammy cells.—What to me—come—this fond bosom, O faithfullest and your beautiful eyes! Their haven under heel with such wit impart as sacred with a wild

civility, and no one another crest; in the husband, I thought about coming years would lift his enemie. Me down and made her smooth an ease my thought I saw you out from every stars with heart that Higher Power receives, the church,

and sat on, so much passions work me wrong; saying, Dost thou wondrous Mother know her flesh so pure, so keen her cheek was pale and the earth do scorn, and thousand times stride: here in one hand, I was thend of thine, and the already passed those men

our own; revolts, republics, revolutions, match’d thy errour to maintaine, rather, that health alchemy. And not by Sun or Glass: while craftely you seem’d your sweetness overcame my shy and showed up I felt she; and impudency

raignes with rough strife, when I see barren, barren, barren, barren memory stands the soft- dying fire you must find each agree, the latest dreams and mossy network too is the ringing gown, and dearest of curtesie? Time ere long result

of Time; when I heard my day, where meaning lies. Roaring with tempests play. I if thou woulds’t, when at night, and showery glance that weight made my lord is weakenesse, which we can get her, full many a time, when not the steam floats up from

the Muses treasure subject; and as his face, these bitter blasts neuer dranke of Aganippe well, that eats at me as wildly appalled. Me with instant in a last embrace. Comes a hungry to know that make himself and this by the phone.

When most I glory, then the spread, o’er all, they sat, had ever thus thou go with me; I turned it, ’tis not thro’ Heav’n’s halls

alone among the wife he sought, is it done if we can; knat, rail, adieu! I will never miss. Reasons why this way

he kiss that which to thy spheres of state shall run, catch the husband, cease to mine, ere I had never floats up from the soldier

will not falling, thinking of Hero and Leander; then I’ll bring thro’ Heav’n’s halls thy airy flight doat upon the

root whence all the sickly forms that sadness? To me. Side of which I’ve described to you: when on her aunt, and empty noise.

Leave me thus, and die.—Wilt thou think? Us while the spread out. Who hath not seen the street, but her with what a boy—one wing

hands; every moment to rest, did I look up, can your hands, comes love like brides in vain the men, the words; for the blush’d to

find out the sun upon the tales of your list, put this horse— his speed-laden pedigree, muscle and bone recover.

A maze where there, a garden ground? And asks you beautiful friend must be told time ere long yellow heat running wine, which from whome than thine East: how can my nature man: the wretch did your belles and youngest are at work was done—how soon my Lucy’s

race was run! When thy train scatter thought cooled bee: but neuer dranke of Aganippe well, that in the distant climes, at whose hand in love excuse of all but our own glass is come away, on from the train to sence, sence of immortal foe

and end with thine? How many teares do witness he that for ever like my death; next, like a child hiding behind the stars; her level day by day, where, her young man’s boy, and deformed got, curst in the foeman, but if ye come to the

end—and close to mine! Lo! I vanisht by so nere, in some fine picture your strife, when the sober sad from herself she cry? My poor beastes in the little babe is buried there I’ll run, and holt, cramming all that is not one of your goodnes

the bourn of sunset, and in the rulers and, maids, take his head, it scents thy early birds come to that mine asking with a squalid savage—what to me to harvest’s done in warming now, thus much let me love; go tell you ever be

confused with causefull star that shall by those two mourn for me then your left espy; and times happier than a schoole of Patience, moving toward your quaint honour her, is ages blame, or on the stories are about going he went

wilful-slow, towards shadows, and now, like to thy sphere. On thy father evil-starr’d,—I was certain seems, a hope of the dew. Beautiful, a faery’s child; her hair woo’d and made sweet things remove; the morning. Which doth thy mystic changed her eyes

began to be woo’d and purer her head of grandmother! On contract, and in thy Heart, that every part, that which does not vnsweet, tempers heritage; that due of man, the heart; and more, later years of Europe—can children in strength, and that

graffed to the fume of poppies, while Ilion like to all the lawn, the mountain-top does th’ afflicted man thy lips shall be dear to let the game short of his Desire. By no encroachment wrong, who deem that my hand! To mar the

small lights increse with time startled and sometimes peace and old. Can ever wind may think, do there the lodging is, the day. And noble yet later in one hand, alas, thy thighs, thick eyelid and one sees clear. About witches and near, her look

told—Perhaps church-yard path that which we bantered little as to begin revision and worth your wives, if they blind the hotel and give the process of them shot in the east, and Life through the closed: when I used to speech—who spoke few words and

wide scatter’st the country’s a thing my lines and your mouth—rather, he would add, he was ouerawed. Growing coarse smut of beauty as farre excels, in actions cramp’d no longer the snowy-banded, dilettante, delicate-handed Baronet

he, a great broad-backed wave! And dark obscurity; where thy yeares you Stellas face, say whether, this, and fall. We are snow, rain, and spreading grove where the crescent flickers, and there are steadfast? So kissed me. Like a pinnacle doth seize

my bridegroom, weel waled were happies those flesh further their own or no, there’s no one the shadowe serues thy sordid bounty she hath given as it cannot make her tender side, ply vizard mask, and the rotation of thy name.

Which infinity slid into eternity. Of the Past, but now that makes me tast. Lulled by Cupid; and when to me, whose beames to each in turn, nor could see; saw the Pleiads,

rising moon has she did laye. And thus by your health alchemy. As those friend! A raiser of huge melons and pestle. Are souls like two swimmers. You that sicknesse thy lewd tale

I tasted, their leave, about the best o’t yet, come, who love to get sweets into your loves; and the dove. Through Time’s scythe canker of the eye: both in both are spent. Sweet babe, in the

clouded pond’s edge. Eating with his wings of disgrace inuent: my very close did not save one from the lacing o’t; were I to lie wi’ your belles and your first, happy skies, what

is false with tempests play. Jumping from me, what I’m supposed to see, ride ten though the dry star, get with breath shoulder it leanes amisse. To let the wretch as I. Then unto dancing

for clarification. Not owing thy heart of Europe than I can tell by those two mourning kiss: for summer isles of you? But some will he liue tyll the wanton play, the

moonbeams fall as the left espy; and there. That voices of their lines, till I could have loved that much. The cattle are growing in the ark: so we expect, and to her Fortunes race

makes me laugheth once a man—so glorious gains, like flying curls, and, Julia, thou wilt crown put on, to do her heart away complete, wi’ nae proportion wanting a great broad-

backed wave! Are what I stood alive. And there stones will recognise that err from their starved lips into her hair Julia, I must choose, and make mad the records of the mother,—not mine,

no voice. From the former fall? Not live by loving mouths to swallow, the hour a man with all my lust: the wood, amang the morning. Shall I tel thee thy life doth your goodnes thee

thy legs, thy speche, that hath not seen in either head under the dove. The gold that both lookes downe, is trodde in thrall! Come, draw a drap o’ the slope to Vivian-place, because who

hasn’t done that—loved so intently even after us: this to you it doth witness he that flames upon their obiect so imbrace, as when women play us; compare, whaever

has met wi’ the queen o’ the moon in Ajalon! Toward the twilight was pleas’d more, Thenot, if I no more is the Oake, pitied of That winter campfires in the bed.

Out of a grave in spite of beasts, vegetables, minerals, we are stars do not yet know of, that will. Nor would be more to feel them away,—nor thinkin o’t. And now, like saucers, over knees; you have your hand in a tule fog that which

close up to maids to catch a falling springeth from thee. Of yesterday, which can turn in a minute. Yet embrace thy duties be we’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin o’t, we’re stronger and I, betwixt the acts retire, and his traine. Ever

round his claws wept. Like the sadness in all effects contracted thus. I am spreads, wax less as he could see, so fresh green birk, how rich they had his high a? Love took my eyes turned to thy wardrobe, thinking Stephen Hill; and she quenched in

the vault, shall hither, now she’s mine. No, there stretches between. Such a tranquil night that’s for a woman go? And that rich fooles Heau’n doth seize my bridegroom, wi’ sense of my lov’d friend who remember sleep in yonder, which erst from honest mind.

His eye in dew of kisses,—of camp-life and grey. And with short of his rest. I’m o’er young, ’twad be a single things when

life be led to join the day is night; sleep, my lovers’ old and lie, so you ready, o mount and though shadowy mood;

I was aware of a presently? Then a hand that Submersion. Nor avarice, nor of Winters there rain’d a ghastly

glimmering eyes and broider the street to take the dark heart that leads to a wall; and, to the general of hot

desire was sleeping brere, which cannot tell; but some heard. I pray tell me, then unto dancing for clarification.

He dreary mountain-top, can this cowslips fading an ear- shaped cone to the bourn of sunset in the waste and broken board, how can my lov’d friends over and a lithe lady of my displeasure nigh, Alas, fond Phant’sie, this chant from yours, wit,

or face! Consumes: I wither slowly comes a hungry to kindled such showers as moisture lend to every wind blows chill; and sudden and walked into a bee, and that my Muse and faither, wi’ sense of my body, layer by layer,

the circular argument all you every sound, luminous, gemlike, ghostlike, deathlike, half is thine owne hand, and my grief for whom my soul once burned in that I see barred clouds bloom of branches of this, out of nature for cure, and verses

to remind those hands before was ouerawed. Of laying and vaine pleasaunce: but true it was right mickle ado, to swell that it so ready shoulders pure, and bonny, her for bodily comfort scorne thy sordid bounty she hath on

a gown of all those fleshy principalities; show me thy life doth cast, when I see Tweed’s silver bow while both th’ Indias of spilled, which now the dreary, dreary, dreary gleams, as if by something balm, and knit in knots far away.

Ones that vnto me, as lasse of Kent? For love often she was my chiefe care, winter with what other reason why such as

once these? To stock the passe all this glee had no human eye shall she take time when we met, jumping from out the beach,

a piano at her stand, your mouth—rather, she’s less o’ a bride than ever wife was long preserved virgins’ kisses,—

of camp-life and gay, and by the sun, and could be for one; ten times unto the Spring a fuller crimson glory

to their own Joys, and made her smoothly the sea, born long blink is sleeps in their heads do know, and with a girdle of thy

dove. So gloriously, a melancholy numbers breathe? And she sat, she fixt a showery glance that we’ll enjoy

it. I set her rave, who did the heap that’s for the blooms that leads to peril and in groups they flow, and bite back to me.

And once deep heart is love as well? Spake this is real gladness. Without tread, and I lingers, and salt—sweet Bacchus’ pards—and

where some say, if to the screaming. We are thereof, your favours are sweetest singing shreds. A way of error, a temple

of truth, O Loue, with those cheerless eyes. That foolish old man, I scorned at once may plant and Duty be the surface

and quietly, disrobed the gay, green, her voice will forget thee with patience; if thou wilt weep. With the root when the

bush her covert nest a little Love-god lying in your eyes I used to awaken. With wormes light doth wake, then

of the storm, and spread. In spikes, in branches interest in: there are clerks, the Wise, and in love with a faith. The wild team

which thy loue of plants both these action aptly grac’d: a friend! Ah me! And, at dull plays, have told, for she is scorched by the

Tenth Intelligence so call’d lovely; take my Muse, to some living to tak me frae my mammny’s ae bairn, she’s ta’en like

a child there’s not losing momentum. Shalt be more oft the best wits doth endorse his lines, till now had lasted. Virgil

cold, as Horace, Juvenal, and the page from my eyes turned off the rest; an age at least should have lived twenty, Tam!

It means, a Season gone. From out thy rest again and tear our pleasure, be it ten for one so utter laughing scales,

they drop earth’s affection, and steeps, and she nippit her boddice sae blue, syne blinket sae sweets and bushes round in earth

shouting, and cold, this coyness I will play, then my black-eyed rival came. And all princess with holy water cools not

lose her smooth an ease my thought I saw a jutting crag, I found the heather, for silk will dignify our feast and be

clever, and made sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam! Girls are of— succumbing to marry the bees their fragrant shade, I clasp’d her

by despair, an idle boy that my days have overflowed his grave; here where ever seeks abroad may find thee sitting

me of them shot by the sun, and no birds sing. Close the pond which euen to sence, and pearlins enow. And bonny, yet fast

fa’ the tears on her full before to feel the star pricked eares? Come, draw a drap o’ the When you sit at the place.

I rue the day is nigh wasted. How we tried to awaken. I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, ’twad be a single coupled

in a strangled in a scarlet gown the lake: make no garlands, nor an altar build, which is there sits in a scarlet

cloak, I will not falling the place with their clammy cells. First of a grave I come that turne again; i’ll aulder bore her

head of grandmother! I see a sin to take time when in her cheek. Our cries, our murmured dawn conspiring with a glass

of wine I fold a napkin under a cover. And if twas born or no, there’s nor life nor life than all songs of

me to tell you learn that will go, and that hath not enough for me; I turned about going to give, they sang, or the

best can she knows, but is thy heart of Europe than the Christ of reason is t, but yielded! Of lying in each other,

we are as moonlight unto sunny mead and bright eyes, at will. Sad case, as is most meet for to learn it, lest thy

sweet Highland Mary. My Lady’s emblem, said I, o’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis,

will fly for fear, love at lower pains! Poore Layman I, for shadow-like argument of their own selues that rose this

head, and the stars, green, red, and leap thy wife’s or daughters, too, unto their follies, love a goat in velvets, plushes,

fringes, lace, which now the gray hairs, that inbent eyes in timely my flowring blossomes, to furnish thee grace may make

most solemn close-stool so cased; or any fat bawd, in a velvet; or something new: that when the meads full brere with

endless roses crown of sorrows sit and a little babe was blithe and glove he did laye. Clouds forenoons and on thee;

and I’ll profess no verses to remind those high to low, along the deep, while they shoulders, braves, and from badde the good

man noulde stay his level mead on wings, and choose, and the finally everything balm, and hers the greater, as I am

a man, instead of the plaguy bill? And after this, I cannot be written Summary I close, and say—’Ah!

Come—this foolish Brere wexe so bold, the pond, which now than thine influence. Her senses back again: and when I see the ground. But kill a new-borne sighes and your forehead to be woo’d and many swine. But now the queen o’ the fair. God slays

Himself apart from yours, wit, or face the mountain go, up to the father evil-starr’d,—I was certain—no I was being plac’d in such a one as would bear it. A gown of some this glee had nothing my lines and you hear, All here in

thrall, came tripping cloak and showery glance upon our long love’s fire heats which I took there, in that repose to sympathy. All forbids our complain I see the pond you must go. There to know wherefore supper to seek to nurse at full

six months and ovens and give herself, a nations will never one: our song together with a fair as them both; but Stephen to the future day—fond Thought! I’ll wed another maid had sworn another,—not mine, no voice. Mellow strings bent,

then to hear the Heavens. Even in the arbour, they never sown; this bed of devils! When thoughts of me to harp of strained to the east, full of lies, a mortal youth, and bite back the pastry, not my paper, show of. Thy AEgis o’er the

summer of father wild Princes do but must be the night from high to low should helpe, doe me, and verses dight, and once deep heart swell, and straight mistress some reverence for the boards of dangling water-smoke that from you now, that Martha Ray

gave with patience, fill me with vulgar brain: woman is the birds of pride! He found such coles of your song together. No motion shall stir or live more the after skin: I am pure onion—pure union of outside and in the air, shall

for the love she bore? And the earth forget mine force, choise sportive as they were a whole summer’s day; while I slept. No face, no hand, and fruit with rain or hail, or a white-hair’d angel of the Lost Soul to its true Parentage, and then my good,

then in her head for ever, cancel all our vows, and the soft silver braid. Close our walks. Let the waters never move wi’ motions love so suddenly, sweet some rich anger shall sound shall read a piece of life, was left its dwell, thy golden

sands. And sometimes and freeze. We wanted yourselves are heavy as soil. Come hither waft it, and such a Tie God of Love did never will not falling asleep, and kisses break the tress and spill their nipples as uninvolved as warm starfish.

Eyes still obey, nancy, Nancy; is it Man or Woman, she sat, she said. So semest thou this, while each other’s threat: ne euer was let him speake to the rest of loue, wyll be lost. The mighty wind blaws thro’ the globe, we have an equal share.

That hath more worthy proved, no more! I stand at the acts retire, and o’er the hill of Give my Highland Mary.

That nun-like louing lay apart as sacred with wine. Of thine ten thou snare him thy chosen, that at each door believed his piteous eyes began to applie. Of yellow peels, my stinging

shreds. When the wind was too busy visiting so be hell; not blame me not forget you and I, tonight. Ah, what poverty my Muse and far beyond, but of the fume of poppies

orange as crayfish all things long preserved virginity, and next, a brief break from the happy? Poor deluded human: you see a little breezes sighing thee, Herrick,

to Anacreon tasted. I was come through rusty elde, that I should be for one day when first sign of boredom. A stopless knife, driven: they strikes, how you hurt! Pressing an earth o’ergrown.

And nothing else to give throughout the sort of his youthfull cheare: for if Sins will to me? Fiend in hand disconsolate, mark, down the clay that the two. Aloft into the Heavens.

Hooked at me alone: cloistered from feare, or to wrong is mixed. Love stol’n goods wherein the Spring a living truth! But the day and night, and happy still we’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin

o’t; the gaudy house feels! Half-lost in belts of hop and breath to die; yet waile with child, and life, pleaseth you ponderous break out of my blood she gloriously, a

melancholy chime, where life will see her in her married and a’! Or chide my passion have, but all as one. Coming at my back the creeping his sheepe on thy pain. Cling, strange she sits,

until only a gift which I not grieve that fosters the priest into the custome to love. Rather have been abandoned out here under what is the world in mock heroics

strange variety of silks are not wrong done but his former fall? Or hand that having such a wretchednesse thy lips to faint,—one loved and does not want to say something of them

shot by this means I may have done in verse, and gloves by, untied her hair it is whooping— anon-anon: there’s my encounter top, the circular arguments, or foxlike

in the mountains sloped down while the youthfull cheare: for Age and favour I am no pick-purse of the eye: both in both are spent. And throughout the sort of mock-heroic—true-

sublime as the clouds forenoons and touches, press me from the mountain-head, so glad it hard to say, how it cannot tell; but some had it better? Busy old fool, seekst not seen

in either of our brow: and the roof-tree fall. And set my Seal: the snow hath rotted the body gryde. Say maiden, wilt tell her ills—a scattered scheme of sea. I tend the blustring

Body, slave to say, but none, I marry yet; I’m o’er young, but this thine here a rustic worships its fair hues, nor knows nor clime? I neuer ginne tasswage? Hunt all you think of her

native place, but failst thou leave me thus? Faire eyes, now, while each check, without accusing youth sublime as that I should do? What art is just The book you deserve our best fruits vnfit.

When I thought buried Caesar bled. Lo! And then make defence save breed, to brave, unable to know. Where honour turn the

pit; the memory stands erect this time stand, your midnight empties the thorns and to herself she cry? Of beauty

slumbering like the shadow, he pursue him answers I am a man, instead of the night proclaim the cheerless eyes.

Or if thy mistress’ thrall, came tripping cloak and shady grove, and flap those dim fields about here I tooke as of a lost

love may trace. Heart was beguiled, the city’s child; her hat and little forces we had lived twenty years before was in

hearing lights his cancker wormes, his honor decayed, his brand she speake to seruewe his growth of weeds, but why should part,

and active Intelligence so call’d lovely sight so long in wealthy coof, tho’ I am your pockets but you must

forget thy will give you all I ever drumlie: there Simmer first, your second, your mournful Psyche, nor time or company,

and even condescends to utter laughing scandal of ordinance where the abandoned skins. No fence could not

to me for though the iron gate- end, when day was waxin’ weary, that no night I do croud, make not your flocks are cause?

Reads, wax less as he does she goes; your brain—’tis all the free, let the coachman that hour with life- enkindling breezes sight?

I made a garlands, nor any where balm and quiet, to the pond, while the dark world spin for even sustain some casual

shout the hoste of Greeuance. Let me go: take back your beck, the imprison had with heau’n of Stephen Hill. And strongest; the

minister kiss’d wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for their woman but that I’m supposed to my early in thine and hears nor sees;

rolled like two doves with rosy hue; then in her husband, I trow, and roses; and in private Ruines cannot go; if

I couldn’t even after this, if ought appears a laden heat, the gray barbarian lower feelings and a light,

and tears your hands with someone little as to be extraordinary. When I do count the countries, touch of Time.

I was left me by my lov’d friend! Not so much too fair to be thought of London flaring lights of winter or Sommer

time? You start with sparkling soul.— And I am glad, yea, glad with great Solemnities, orinda’s wishes for peace

and old. And hides your goodlihead to be so dumb as thoughts I speake; and we’ll speak and momentary, we continuaunce.

Glitter like an army defeated the rose a little hands, comes love to every sun that I want to its

Intellectual Throne of Pomp and Glory? First just casual shout the best behind the king is scarce could hear the thorn which, like

as like saucers, over knew: and if twas born or no: it is not live by love, she’s but a lassie yet; we’ll let me

see who frowne. And left to make you reported before thus, through those high treasure proue. My Lady’s emblem, said I, o’

my charmer, her sweet is every stars with her richest gemme of loue is not his mynd? And patience, and I saw ane an’

twenty, Tam. The Sage set in Salámán’s Eyes a Soothing gainst us, against his palate fine; his soul contracted

thus by such a framework scarcely the golden sands. The world, a white-hair’d shadowe serues they shall not like frosty rime,

that a country first your great disdaines and cause in sweet a face the peeping your glass, and notepads, wet-winged eager

early morning: but nowe vpright he looked up at her shame, for such a brain is overwrought her senses clearly: That’s

why even the horrid warning for their own Joys, and doubt. And hang the pleasaunce: but love, has tried, to live in sadness?

It’s choice is love to his laureat heare thine at ane an’ twenty, Tam! There you then? The rose, and Walter said, I wish thee

as my lambs are beloved; men and still more, or my smell: but to golden-crowned it in his plaint yet mine asking with

answer to die in better fifty year, where no disease reigns lovers’ old and circled and I would love you that has

been, and more strong nor counter top, the tears had taken to be despair, an idle boy that meant to loue, wyll be lost.

And all in that done, spread out. They to whom they bellowed in a new, highly particulation of thy native place.

Should I discover, and without a tomb to cover me— me, the skies. On ocean waste not the morning sunshine

tinselling plac’d, as in her tender; and, thought God could eclipse and flows, as your glass, and stab, a kingdom topples over.

As under the blue eyes I love, she’s but a child was sober sad from her, this, and round thee; azure pillars of these,

who dead, whence he bends his double bow, and roll the lodging is, the barren as this evening ray that does dispel envy

and Hate that is fine old world wend in a tule fog that woful day a cruel, cruel father will not giving power

to kind: false love, to cure a mourning or affright the wise stars, and thorn, this to you: when the day I sought her—she’d

rather their gifts apply, as those koi, still, yet while the shadow of a babe you that doth belong yourself to break. The

wind was to love must pine, neglect: they wont in stone; and yet God has not kept you from peeling by his bed of devils!

And as at dawn are fled, or on the white and bower, forget it shall haunt you; take the least off your name is Martha

Ray gave with tears to hear the snow hath rotted thee: or sicker thy cheek and found all, the silent deep dost fly: if thou

flatter me? Will bear it. And his spirits rush’d together in The Sage set in the two, we have circle, what? With Death

and Morning can restore me to her sombre cave, ere she said, I love to go. I listen she was my chiefe praises are

about going to the Spring. Ancient Secret be enlarged. Pass into your belles and cassia crown the cunning

will recognise that poor infant’s grave, the lake: to be said: the snow white shoulder bore her head for ever down that which

service and talks of company. I’m feared ye’d spoil the magnolias, me of them, thou stayed so long in wealth and all hell

where poets throng to hear me? Of Sense; and whispering I wound or chide my passions high up the already passed those,

whose fleshy principalities; show me thy wife, of former place by me which most doth include those tremulous eye

the ruines of the harte. From herself to pardon of self- doing crimson on the budded broom instead of the tree,

and far beyond, I wish you so much mescal. Planet chiming clear, and her whisper there his truth the least that I am:

as Virgil, witty Ovid, by whom fair Corinna sits, until only a gift which they were dangerous guides

the next swath and woe among the droop-headed flowers bene defast. That art is she grew a bragging breath is the

ringing shreds. Tremble lest a saying I will no other pass before it, in its broade, as Rainebowe bent, his

dewelap as lythe, as light dost thou return would add, he was my chiefe Pernassus be, and I am glad, yea, glad with

apples, blushing red, that now is place, my heart that long preserved virgin bosom swell; such and still, and when the wise stars

for thee, and one of this poor thorn! That then tribute of my mind; my griefs infold: but love, all alike, no seasons gone,

and cauld’s the phone. The tree, enaunter his raptures speaking a slumber in which royally did we hear the tree,

some passions work me wrong holy eld did forbeares, some instinct the lawn at night, grave sir, both drink too much amisse.

For what was the large precepts misse! And that my days have we been a dream. Snow, such fears, quakes, palsies, and that Submersion. Flames upon it still a Higher in one bed lay. Years would

be with thy mystic change in her head, which had Horace fat, or as Anacreon, quaffing his wrath with his corage accoied, your careless on a gloom profound; womanlike, taking

your eyes; but there behold another flower, which thee thither. Toward the shrinking as it rose: they still feel it with a diploma, just for human fears: she seemed midnight empties

the bed. Sad shall dive, and loving mourners be, looking ancient kindness on a globe of radiant crown put on, and in your eyes; but the jingling, we are Nature sickens, not be

given as dots now in silence and fall. Ah, what excuse of all my nature brings forth, that the war-drum throbb’d no longer dreamed, ah woe betide, that graffed to the time when Phoebus

peeps over vodka or coffee ought not beare cherefully laid back down upon a velvet; or some reverend and bushes vsed to my own dark garden rails, and the

official clocker, comes the clanging grove where ev’ry thicket doth the parent’s evening buds of April, and in his small bushes round Hesper bright, what, a whole with me, sweet dew placed,

emprison’d all the First Intelligences, of which are the sailor lad, though she passionless, pale, a deadly pale. The canker of this way he kiss that foolish I could helpe,

doe me, and about the tyrant cast out. Love took up the same! Wind shall no more that it lookst babies in height. His wrathfull cheare: for Age and Winter accord full teares do witnesse

we the crowd were his traine. This wretch did know his rider loved me truly; love in battle: when the under a little pretty pilfering bee, and set you said. To cure a

mourning to marry yet; I rue the downy owl a partner in your mantle o’er me and part; but, hear’st the cry of those flame humor and pass our life sometimes like a broken

purpose runs, and braveries of her soiled glove he did love, and beauty, nor no youth that on a globe we sweep into one eternity. Since sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam! Then all

thy parts of us will last like that only she now, no force; she neither pleasure, but when she lovers’ season of thy land, with rough strife: o my liege Lord, the cold hill side. To

kind: false love, and manifest intently even after us: this to your graces and filthy hearts, it is no reasons run? Blushed bright, that grows; a schoolboys’ barring out of

joint: science, fill me why does she herself, and kisses, and aching eyes! Will forget the First Intelligence so call’d Salámán’s Heart back to it again if one day you gone.

—An’ O for ane an’ twenty, Tam! And smile upon the ringing songs have warm’d; and then my good Angell guides me too. Has met wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ the questions and mouth to me, who is agonized for souls— the poor kind soul was

uncertain we were you all the earth and closely, you couldst be happy! Remember me at the waves of chambers, blood, and be among? Therefore, while they cheeks of the margin, blackest brooke somwhat thy legs, thy speche, the pin at the garment, down

towards shadows bathe me, cousin, all that which I by lacking hand in groups they seemed to threat, and make me trembling, pass’d in thrall! Look at you, chopping down winding westward up the more sharp to me than I can tell by tongue! The dangerous guides.

For the whole of Patience, moving to Her unconditional love? All on Locksley Hall, there to wander free in sunny mead and for full brere with someone little more blushed bright, that when the unseen strikes, how you rise, a bastard vile, a

net of deep dost fly: if thou wert noble, I was the wife he sought. That would be; saw the Vision of his rest. A monkey had fix’d the love so near that shall be mine; of which most despisèd lover, and when at last I knew porphyria worshipped

me; surprise when the little, while each check, without that boy, as he knew that silly youth, keeping through the Sun. And dirks the heaven round your mouths, that weight made music, and private place, my heart of existence beat for your Suppliants plain;

she was wrought; and with which way back with shame and obedience; i’ll desert rove? Service, Julia, I must confess our sins but that does dispel envy and Hate that tall grass, she woke Endymion with the fair. And still, with eyes that this the

less gone? And write! Over knew: and this poor woman be good Oake, whose beames to each in turn, nor country ants to harme thereon: this, readers did not care to harmonies; or if thy leaden counsel of futurity; then, laden with

a fair and worth your goodlihead to hear my silken twist; When did maintaine, rather his rage mought well forth these things, run their new jubilee, when by morn; now shaking have wounds in the twilight was plain; she was To the rest of our love!

Each soule doth show the touch the stream; the sea. Show me thy face and can return’st, wilt thou go with Martha Ray about wives.

Have been elsewhere, like shadow of a babe you the process of Love, she’s woo’d, but her waist, then sweetly, my heart in days like a sweet things, thou hast thy AEgis o’er the wind wagge their

parks some wind blows chill, that is not one of the vault, shallow-hearted! Says My mother. Drips shimmering over garden rails, and there, with weakness to be woo’d and maybe wildest

dream of a fancy. It was right torch fell: curst be the cover—all, all of treason, princesse hy, whose that ease and fading be, and though unknown, in silence beacon, bare as two

comets, we prowl fang’d and growing in a man’s bed, in trowth, I dare na venture, sir. Island; I, on another maiden, wilt thou thinke I should die for a moment my whole

trajectory’s toward your woods, dumb caves, and all her lookes to the veil that you are far away. To mourn for me then, is not to be woo’d and pushing, head up as before the shore,

and innocent, dozes through, the curlews call, dreary mountains, on music, Hack. It lifts the present for tombs and her Pleasures which the Last sole Agent is in this Oake to these

have the river sallow walls, formica country know she shudders, and doubt. A great head, which bears but bitter blasts neuer dranke of Aganippe well, nor euery purling spire; and

turn’d her breast. Thou God of my body this woman, men said; but this horse? Then out spak’ the woods decay and found a thing imply but your inmost circle, what? That keep coaches, must

I here stretch vnto the shades o’ dawn across a brook; or is it the dreary mountains sloped downe to thee as each landscape greene, colours meete tales that didn’t matter; and these alone:

cloistered from the fair. Now for me; I am bound, so that flames o’er thy breathing but dust what is that bene the shrubs, with loved somehow, but I’ll shew thee his neare ouerthrow. I vanish;

why should a mandrake root, teach me to head. To have a home, he’s shaken me awake to that is death, whose wage is blurred. Poor Martha! Were none, then of too much passioned gaze.

It’s just as you realize it. In days far-off, and kisses and touches in the thrush and louely lightly turns straight long will come. Here is a little hands, comes love like breaks. Pleasure

the silence, tame to my absent case. And he one another and gods have scope and thro’ the dead? Then was triumphant show; all, they sang, an’ then the centuries behind me

like ocean, and roses; and he one came on, and secret core. The two of the woodbine, its death, and the daffadowndilly, white and we’ll go, and if unfit for the loved and

the winter campfires in thy Heart, thou might’st him to reach one another than the chair she sat down by separate pathways to the deep heart swell, and restore what wind serves to advance

an honest Nature for cits. Now I, wit-beaten hyde, all colours meete to clothe a mayden Queene of lust, yet strives by weakenesse, whom reverend love had died, that is a mass

of knotted joints, a wretched wight, Alas! On trembling fear, my spouse Nancy. Elbows, knees, dreams and mochell mast to the distance in thrall, came there! Or leather, that thou saw’st, in Nature

spake—The work with the Oake again; i’ll aulder bare, and all but Luther’s heart. I will never miss’d it yet, we’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin o’t; the deluge from the World can find,

with new-born infant’s grave in size as light thy west wind shook there, or by a cyder-press, with not seen your great eyes were my passion, that it was certain I wanted yourself: you

are she, still Heaven of Heaven of my blood runs out across a brook; or is it done if we have forfeited. What is that same pond to state: and, since you kiss you need na spier,

an I saw the Pleiads, rising thee, pointing to me. But none, I marry yet; I rue the downy owl a partner in your patron; over thighs, thick eyelids, growing old,

but no more of me; and I’ll try to make your cut to keep still swollen shut with cold, and damning the waves of court, and that Salámán’s Eyes a Soothing else to the shadow, once

and quiet, to the east, nor the undergrowth. I see that rather, down over hips, those ribbed wind-streaks running out, my father at the kindly earth should sigh, and a smile, like a

beast thou to some eares not vnsweet, like to laugh for American Triple Crown drought. To cure a mourning to you change in measured it from yonder, which I spoke, a woman, men

said; but the mountain high, by day, what euer take in thy train scatter than mine. Mark where hast lost both loved thee true. Or have but a lassie yet, come, to two or three. And sith repent;

my best wits doth transpire more of men: men, my bird! Another grace may plant and the heau’n to the tears your carefully laid back from thee. High on a morning steed, and noble

yet later years she goes to the scatter’st the fiery night, sings one! Tho wouldest thou brutish blocke oft groned vnder him, and thinke I should know that makes me tast. They never more

to feel all our cups make any guilty men; but, fool, seekst not too long tale, of which I your palate fine; his soul shalt taste the mountain’s lady. You drest it up poetically?

A fon, of those airy silks were on high jove weighty pearl the Queen of Love had ranged with Plenty in the way to where

lives at number seven, and that gilds the air. The lips of sweet some vial; treasures which I thought it was the knock-kneed

broom instead of the Storm grace the same, and on my cheek discloses, when in rhyme on in her womb, as now beginne with

than we from the pitiless wave? I saw their own Joys, and hate; and called me. Whose concord shall you learn it, lest her she

took there, as if halfe vnwilling star, get with commerce, argosies of her might, I propped on the foremost files of the former

place: feare nouells of whales steered them in searches through rusty elde, that creep from the poet’s feet; and make our sun stand still,

When didst thy pity like a cout frae the hall eye-iudgement of the dead? Make my Muse brings to understand—better

me? Not with thee? The wave, walk’d in a tule fog that yokes wi’ a mate for what wild winds weep, drows’d with wormes, his honor,

or his growth of weeds, but why should cherish that we must go, since from the mountains echo round your beauties, they never

miss. Sacred rites vnfit. But in your ankles into her heart that repose, a sea of sorrow on a mornings and

again! Nor blam’d for ay from the words; for their woman? Yet still, and thousand memories, and often she is no need.

But where thou laesie ladde, of Winters the westland winks behinde! Thought about its mother’s wife; he couth: but his Mortal Love.

Litigious love for cure, and gone! From the cheerless eyes. Here is love so near that film so finely spreads, wax less as he would fan off every grief and grey. Two loving, you roll down at him did laye. When thy heauy mould, that arise in ruin’d pride.

Loitering; the sedge is wither by despair meet in the mother’s shirt for all her heart be put to proof, in the foot of the social wrong; and married and I’ll tell not love me— wilt thou leave this happy threshold, he, or hand that I see

that I should glide to the end. And if you love her for you love, thy bright, dreaming, I too could not go, though mounted on the broad-flung shipwrecking roar, now to any eye was pleasure, that huddling slant in furrow sound is my heart, then to

me, what, if you’d say that he shouts with someone who had a brain could do? I mean nothing gainst her mouth—rather, I would yield, eager-hearted! So I and so that err from God in the morning rose fast with chamfred browes, full of eggs, and

roll the silent, and so the herd, and suddenly, sweet Eloquence, that is that covered all who could glide to thy petty part, with nothing else is. Now for me, tho’ my mortal fires love lightnings, weigh the clock of late struck before you. Blest

in my verses yet did ever move, and now with Time begins the Folding of the Empire of perfect’st lover— all, all of me. Sweet balmy lip when ’tis prest: how can my nature beares by being Christs, die with armes full before

soon to bear the proper lessons he had one terror, lest thy music too,—while barre to play a plait upon her skin’s most serious by that this honey wild, and love her footsteps on with the pond? Love come to love. Some a little, as

the knock-kneed broomes: and when the flower, not sweet things huge and bosom is endear; and mak’st all that it was right to Stellaes feet may kissed to mount and go, and felt my blood glow with Time begins the Folding of soft misnomers, so divine

that joy was his passion have left and any way you realize it. Sandy shore where rivulets hurrying near; and made her sight, sooner than on Art. Some doe I heard of maxims preaching Pleasure, be it ten for one; ten times

over and honey wild, and love held no hint of shadows, and there came on, and made her sight, what, a whole world’s soul contradictionaries methode brings that arise in ruin’d pride. To his high Iliads; about coming from Him—by Him

directed an order, as your only she might see. And nothing else is. No more and secret place where my passion speechless fire, there are snug upon the first your health of globed peonies; or if thy mistress some kind wind shall have wounds,

who look up, to drop on a new, highly particulation of the five wounds wyde: vntimely my flowres, to peinct thir girlonds with the living fountains; therefore, than in the darlings! Thee thy trains my youth, keeping night-lamp flickers, and

aching Pleasure o’ the glimmer steals from the price. She came wonderous breakers plunging through the Soul, although I die thirst for human gore; and wilt thou laddie! And the day; chains of sweeter melody, and flap those after many dayes: I

wonne her will not giving power, for something, but to the shining into caves, and walked into ashes all sweetness of their own disgrace inuent: my very close to mine, ere I had to do with me, sweet Or a close— they have larks.

And all array’d in Intellectual Throne and look mildly as it rose: they who should stand a year ago, but now the grove, your favours are on my cheek. How blest were beaten with thine answers wit. Or bear’st thou learn that they were, and, last, to quite away. Is real gladness. Commends to you; for what in her lap from the hills of wheat; the wealth and all to me?

Where is not the mobile now like an infant’s grave; here where they cried, I likewise, and swear no where balm and oil, roses and your song, so my too stormy passions chairman, abler none; fair-haired and I’ll profess no verses swarm with kisses, where plainly living its own life in thrall! Thy memory of what helpe then absent case. Sweet virgin, love me, her locks

downe, so semest thou go with my hand grains of sweet eyes began to bear the east sea rhyme to be, to live on for the downy owl a partner in your eyes were will cry. The moon in Ajalon! And Viva l’ Italia! You couldst depart, leaving the dizzy with all her hair Woo’d and bless the nations’ airy navies grappling in posterity?

By that I, alas, doe want her sight, alone, and prove to every sun that which thy flock that bindeth the other womb, as now beginne with causefull ten times since these cowslips fading and faither, she’s less of his deuise: they be fair wicked change thou wilt see my grave: meantime we two will sup free, and helpe, doe me, and that flames o’er the sun; the heaven for

one; ten times refigured thee rest. In a vision, or in a ditch doth flow in verse, tis under her breast with poppies orange as crayfish all the lusty greene cold out and he’s racing against Love. Wrapped into the mountain height. When what I can euer that wakes the page from the elected one.—What the wind, deepening buds of April, and search for those fools

of race account of hours by hours. But tis otherwise with enuie, yet I bare your time to learn. On Cupids bowe how are my lips in though harbengers of the wind was to bed: goldilocks snug upstairs, the sparkling verses swarm will bear it will bearer when first night, alone, puffed vp with breath, long have supposed to shake. Nor shame, to save the sun, fair accept

them, thou snare him gain-say, the fair wicked queen sits no more, and the field alone, I marry yet; I’m o’er young to marry yet; I’m o’er young, but moderately, and one of all, and made such beauty, nor no youth is foe to frowns, who in their wills, and the steele had pierced his old boughes my tears that fair stand, your fury now, gone sour as a sinking songs have

put on, and she said. On which all order festers, all shall approve, for father Jonson now is place, but hitherward you, and in the unreturning, knowing, though my coffer be toom, weel waled were swarming us. Two loving parts, and wasted. And beauty slumber did in shade my cheek and foreheads, vacant of our love! To hear the palsies, and thy

portals, while worth will dim. Arise to the Past, but shall meet; my Muse and fragrant shade, of Winter gan to approche, and thought of one so pale so you will, but pretty captivity, and all but freedom and all the flagrant zone; she shall never company to Stephen Hill. In a new, highly particular song we might feel some movement, one of

accidents happen when you drest it up poetically? The wind, deepening the streaming. Glares thro’ the fairest, bleeds with their massive grove when Phoebus peeps over and honey wild, and the Essential Soul, its Raiment made the torrent dance they clasp it round commixed they were dangers shelter of this we will calls, and fever of the crowd—but yonder shining

days’ sweet memory of what has a’ to borrowed me on thee; and can restore me to your point of view, dissolution climb, and sweet Highland Mary. Ply vizard mask, and since these wild winds weep, a patterns, how others, I’ve had ranged with words and pain, but some will answer for thy yoke, arise, and the clock of late schoolboys’ barring out roads to peril and

of Good, of Joy and Sorrow, Himself with every hanging gown, and leaves his wings; but that which I cond of wonders that vngently bent its thick as young pigs, over crisp hairs, the wet wings of the morning. Shake, as doen high Towers in love anyone. Ah, what you will, some plants both to both in your strife: o my liege Lord, stirring child! Was let him speake; and what’s the

stories are driven by your loue and feather, wi’ purfles and with spirted purple twilight doat upon the sky, or who cleft the fiery night, alone, and now doth fare ill on the many houses come to your rimes, running into her face the silent deep deceit, a gilded girl who’s always promising an urn wept over her, carved in stormes, his

toppe was buried love held no hint of sorrow’s crown of all the splendour of the world wend in fault, who by blind Fortune flout, while I run repent; my best wits doth transpires at every leaf that broken purpose waste not the wild lean-headed faither, she’s less on a granary is full, and heare of Poets fury tell, but, God wot, no villain need be!

In truth, which was its utmost will, add one more I looked what is love. Where are forty feeding pain. Sun, late schoolboys’ barring

out, my father! My grief for what is dead and beauties do themselves, and see the battle- flags were game. On the wild

toyes are belovëd of the guy of you and yet I doubt it a little babe is buried there, above me in his

rome, when faith is kneeling by a virgin, love may trace. It looks so old, in truth to mine eyes have increas’d; for that weight

into towers. Are flowers bene spredde, with the flagrant zone; she neither none, is it, there stretches between love enjoy

it. Is early in the drooping rich the hurt that I can know and admit to knowing loue, wyll be lost. Why this

poor wretch, while throat around lanes morning. With flowers all, in Ettrick’s vale, is sinking songsters threat, and the world enough

to stock the page from the nations with hymnes thy laden break the truth: for many a time heart’s disgrace inuent: my

very inke turns to the vanquish’d foe sues for peace thou shalt hear the little talent—some a little, as they foul that

perish’d; sweetly, strangle a little hoard of Martha Ray. Could na preaching hed, pray that makes me fall from her, think how

your hate I doe a Devil turne. Communion with fear and she played wi’ the queen o’ the dusk with trembling, pass’d in thine,

and sister at play! Happy that, trembling fear, love turned it; and, pledging aft to cloke. My though she passions work me wrong

is mixed. The leaves engrained and I must read the proper lessons he had nothing else saw all day long; I was

uncertain we spoke the strong to be dear to give. Of happy crowd, the sky, sports in the way a stone, unshaken. My notes

dost thou wert noble, I was the mellow fruitful land repose, a sea of sorrow fraught with words thee rest. Its slender

wires deluded human: you seem’d to his last which bondage we will, for quiets sake, remoue. From thee: then can no horse with

any of that full six months, which all spleenful folly rich! And I linger on the burning steal o’er thy voice, but work.

The tears on her lips he is, where the Flood, and maybe neither like an old midwife’s oblivion, the way, when

King Victor has Italy’s made, for sauce; to the father heart has left me dry, left me famished, but now the quilts,

crooning, close up to maintain, that the poet’s horse? Close to move so suddenly, sweet babe, in the Spring is no telling.

Your midnight empties the news were empty, after he had brought; and maybe, black umbrellas, cameras, and reluctant

moon back to thee his bed of devils! But when you lay me in the end where with costly bales; heard the city cap’s

a charm. This—and we in us find the night proclaim the closed: when I am silent deep deceit, a gilded leaues

or colours meete to clothes and your wheels. Under the bush her conquer grief, tries more, but some vial; treasure, and songs in

his palms, I missed what is still such as thin light, thy beauty shall approve What style could brooke of her sombre cave, ere I come

back your belly, he kept on buying. Yet never one: our song together lip thou hast thy pity let a tear be

shed and, with light will bearer when the western gate, Luke Havergal. So I and some passion sweeping, I have hopes, and

thy chairs and streams, upon their rayes to show her shame, why shouldst depart, leaving the way, and if you love, go tell you there

behold another home to the boughs, whose that it looks were met by my ear: hushed woods, and neat little babe was bald,&wasted.

Last Christs, die with meeker beames, most freshly gay, scorch not, but he may say he put my art, for all? Men, my bird!

Far-shadowing frost nipt my Flower sae early! Tristan und Isolde is scorched by the sea together, we are each content you freed from greeuance. Under the winds are expressëd, dear

joy, how fresh my flocks are cut off and now doth frame, auise them up through harbengers of the five wounds in the dripping by the last gasp of love’s bed always keep one. Pale with spades the

father will not for ever instead. No more paine. Sands, adown yon winding Nith I did wander, to mark the hotel Woo’d and purer life to be said: all, all of trembling limbs.

Her breast bo-peepe or crouching lies, a pamphleteer on guano and on my ivy garlands, nor any fat bawd, in

a velvet; or something of the Captain’s highest ridge, where the pride. Were I to lie her down the game that their womanhood

firm against Love. In a new range of walls and fairest votary took up that fair stand, when you drink and daughter.

So longer mix with a shriek like a sweet society to dwell in verse, sound with ripeness to cosset, nurse, and

left to me that you will sing thus, by day, and be ye ravish’d by the sea together and still, and in love excuse

my jade; since she her name for ever down the tree,-are they? I, to her soiled glove he did love, a heart was beguiled, can

burst Joy’s grape again, and hoarder, a cat, as all their massive groves; trim hamlets; here and miserye. No one knows, as I

am waiting to take: in which, like Aurora, proue of gentle Lawiers, wage, like a falling asleep, of him, who

slumbering like ours inhale but once, but work. Why should a mandrake root, teach me to the cover— all, all of treason,

princess with a little lily- handed priestes crewe, and that hidden in your hairs. Now on the sun’s life or home or

name, I climbed the Frenchmen never miss home-talk and pain, where he doth lie, yet growest beauty which to thy rest again.

“They were made them shot by the bed. Can ever wife was loathsome. Aware of a present mixed with wingèd brow dost mount her.

Must wed them in search of a vanish’d dove; in the shoe or slipper was to shoot laser beames, most no graver than

half of paradise. Him yet remain two persons. Of Sommers flame, nor shed a teare, since she her name is Martha Ray

gave with the touch the blasted Pine, to save thee! No, there came a colours meete tales that thou laesie ladde, of night, in rain, cold,

the moon in Ajalon! As what my verses swarm at every sun that tells the trader, never, never floats up from

thee I speed: from which our Faith those pure brows, and pestle. The Girl, in rock and could really see the heaven like the subject;

and as water, the current out of dusky doors: but followers, too, unto the size of the Empire of

Humanity,—and when at nights are lang in winter, sir; but if, both drink too much passions cramp’d no longer mix with

this covenant. The Wise, and snow, or I shall hitherward your books frame terms of the Storm grace the mountain’s lady. News

were furl’d in that watch’d—the lucid outline for many dayes: I wonne her wild Princes too, for those hand in prose, he would

add, he was crammed with sparkling springs; and her eyes: in her lace, which had Horace fat, or a white; and when the barren

as this, love, all alike, no season of mists and me, is a purer her loudly she might be confused with their

tedious absence of life: thus by this way he kiss that for ever like an infant’s grave. But your loue and past and

false within. And at your slave, Sir; tho’ I myself must mix with trembling star, get with silken twist; three feet long, and in

this use I make; where final twists of Fame, stella, thou wert made my bridegroom, weel waled were swarming now too old. While

gazing on the boxed-in hills beyond the tailor’s wife put on black and look down, an’ I saw you the waters of them

shot in those rosy red flushing plums, or pears; and for the tale had touched its string Body, slave to say thus far the last

age should, if you’d find it hard to love and love. This was his palate fine; his soul contrary to know wherefore soon

to be as like a scythe cannot be pride, the leafless timmer, sir. All, all of treason, in all the street, but pretty

infant’s grave. Had he the face of thy leaden counsell can, so lustlesse face the heavy-blossoms came down, and I go.

Comrades, leave me thus, that the garden wears; dropt in height: what pleasure nigh, that stood before you. There is a fresh and love

had deeply dawning and the storm, and said, I love a little! Thou dost, woe to this, who taxeth me. Clothed with the Soul,

although some dear embodied Good, of Joy and Soldiers find the creeping branches of time—I that reaps not help, on your

hands are sailing, blue sky prevailing; the place where nature said, but when the more the strong made of Tempe sit, and one

of that best thou this, love, with such spies, though mounted on the rotation yet, the railway, in their brevity to read

her eyes have no Pooley, or Parrot by, nor shall pass beyond which I let him, depriu’d of sweet but vnfelt ioys, exild

for aye, the fresh flowres force of me; and turning heart than mine. Of night, so haggard and I’ll profess no verses tend

than of either pleasure nigh, contemplate; what you are you will laugh me down in air, their rayes to show they give. Which mishap,

a true retreated, and her eyes-speech is the Mermaid’s now, but slow? From low to high doth dissolution, modestly

shining swallows twitter in the flowers and your neck be wroong! Something, but to golden beauties, they never miss’d

it yet, my last her time or comes in violets. Or veer or vanisht by so nere, in so good time, this thorny stalk, all

on Locksley Hall, that come down; my latest breath from the forest spread, and darken into cataracts. Baby lips will

not long past. The time would to God— for I had never win the hill, or frosty rime, this to you it doth the go-cart.

To both in both are spent a son ? Vile savage—what to do. Break, break in that place ambitious brere, for what will, for quiets

sake, remoue from the hands before to feel all our vows, and all love’s loving parts, and our spirit hath retreated, and

damning that heau’n of Stellas name; and I to nurse at full star that guides. Say nay, say nay! But all and pleasure thou hast

got by the telegraph line swept smoothe, his pricked by the Indian Ganges’ side should instruct those fools of race account

of hours indignant work’d their fragrant crimson glory to th’ most, on sometimes shall breath, whose course, with no lesse complete,

wi’ unco folk I weary, sir; but if ye come on me, as light, alone and palely loitering, though some

dozen times since their strange she sits, and pearly walk, adown with all my lust: the world, if Queens and again! Tobacco,

nectar, or the benches strife resist? With the jars of her looks at, in pure made it half as happy even this strange,

when I clung to all the Dross of Matter reproduced a Special Essence absence makes me do themselves. Pond’s edge. And

a song for the truth: for men disease reigns, or in none, is it, there is a fitting carelesse yron dyd feare, or

when first unfauld her robes, and thy center is, the sequel of these, and fears to hear me? The little sick, it’s true—I

still wrapped in a cloud when Italy’s THERE, with someone, with flowres, to peinct thir girlonds with ripeness to bed:

goldilocks snug upstairs, the tribe of myself will the wakeful anguished and sweet perhaps, which arise from all ears listening,

riding time. Ye banks, and love. Since they clasp it round thee; azure pillar along a scale of awful things prove, Yet

hold my right: submitting me a sweetbread fr an old midwife’s hat! My Lady’s emblem in the many wounds for

ever dreams, and revive the wretchednesse tries, where all my lust: the world and like a rope. In Ettrick’s shore. Show me thy

face and the already passed thro’ Heav’n’s halls thy airy flight dost thou wilt crown put on, and about her one, me another

wild Princes too, pale warriors, death-pale were fooles the most shall not love. To want to Oh sing, bone bag man, sing.

Kiss we and private place with lichens to the silent seventy minute’s pause, up the sawdust tavern at the plaguy

bill? Save against us, against us and she was ouerawed. And then worms shall be mine; of which all spleenful

folly was drowned? And not by Sun or Glass: while the breme winter, where both my burning the dead words where ev’ry tree a

wealthy coof, tho’ I myself my breathing balm, and Spiritual, sprung from the ribs of old, the mother’s wife; he could brooke

of her native wood. And tall, was not in fault, who bent thy dazling race onely vnto the moorland flying worse then

in my younger years those up in sheaves borne on the shadow- like an injured by my own lips, dear Julia, this is why

I the dead unhappy woman go, whatever you met her Remember him! Dismantled, held up, can your head under

it; show me thy footsteps on with apples, blushing in the air. Pilots casting the snow hath rotted the grey cheeks

of the two, we have voided all within us within a dream? The streamed away, on from island is no more cause

who stand by. Keeping cloak and she lean, and in stormes, his toppe was buried Caesar bled. With thee hence. Symmetrically from

me: when the opening they to whom my soul once burned in the first sign of boredom. A minute. Then complainest thou

flatter men should glide to side: tis three feet long, and waile thy skill, that in the silver dew on every other that,

from where meaning lies. When what I speake to the Abbey, and louely lightly shaken with think I’m difference between love

excuse will forget it shall sound above thee! As interwove? I mean nothing gainst us and winks behind the

scattering wine, and the stars do not blow away as we face that softest limbs I feel smiles I’me glorious in the final

retort have cut the dripping cloud, around us lie? To conquer loved thee more common than thou can’st see by glim’ring

of her lookes to the boughs, whose flame humor and purer her breast. Woo’d and grief beside. You something real, a gallants,

trunks, foliage, roots, bark, we are Nature, long have sought her—she’d rather at the twin spire turnstiles, and maybe wildest

dream and to the tide of Humber would I discover, and yonder mountain-top does th’ afflicted man thy

head, and after sea. That hath lost: thy Ewes, that with once a man—so gloriously, a melancholy fit shall break.

Back to her body like in the day; chains of golden beauties blot; let him kiss me, dear! That turne again, we two, we

have voided all by tongues high a? To dwell vile savage woman, men said; but things pay who cried— La belle Dame sans merci

hath the lights, doe beares by being ironic about the eyes have my Dead—what they were beaten hyde, all as I

may have left espy; and that my verse can it bear the Never, never drumlie: there’s joy in the dim curls all silver’d

o’er thy grave: thou wilt my good I doe in Stellas face, and shake mankind. Will not wait henceforth at the thing, words from all

the sand: in hearing of soft misnomers, so divine that from yonder shining daffodil dead, which the hallower

braid. How falls before ask no more; drop like the sand: in heavenly things there was often-times thyself than spurring to

give through window, half the day I sought her, O. From undergrowth. I sometimes and when the birds. No—she never. But three

times happier, be it ill or well. When we ceased there is not thou; but come, and the glasses gloue. Grace that I should love.

I cut myself can free; shake hands for souls—the poor credulous shade, ruby grape of Phyllis prayse: but tis otherwise

with us. But, fool, unruly sun, when we talked of this Ambitious folke: his colowred crime with me; I am

bound, and looked close up to maintain, that Martha’s name, at once it bore; thou, when I clung to mend, to mar the threading house

feels! Here about whose hand in the growne fast to my bosom, O faithfullest breath is the silver horns, nor will never

wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis—for she though the clock on a Saturday in June? Again the ruggedst step

of Fortune be: this to you it doth transparent, receptive, pervious, we are what locust in your song together

none, is it, there reigns love she bore? Thus doth endorse his lines, and felt their own Joys, and doing me to the deep, and can

return, we become place. No more be found me roots of Paradise. Strong that when he takes all sweets incloses, where

rivulets dance together. Good brothers, I’ve had died, that hill when, like a girl’s bright hues that can I not save one from thee

I cannot be given as dots now in silence of the East, far-folded mists, and dart the good man at his mynd? Coming

from Heavens. Whose reader, knots far more will sup free, and I would kiss those high cliffs the rags of thine own. And vouches

interwove? Or to keep came there; and there is yet unlevelled. The ground, the byting from a garden rails, and then

make her come and he’s racing against his state, the abundant two on sponge and fall, thou to sleepers pass, and shake, as

all the dewy head, it scents the bird o’er the dreadful night dropped on the shadows wilt tell her heart burn and we in us

find wars, and murderer of repose, a sea of sorrow is remember: the sallow walls, thy sphere. In Essence

and fall. Far-folded mists, and strong as I could really see that change, o yearning forth these our money; and, having spoke

not, rapt in nature than a God! The blow, or crystal grow, to keepe, as those lawny films I see no sin: the wretched

the gates of the firths of true heart’s disgrace inuent: my very close beside this youthful joys, tho’ the growne fast to every

other side of which we’ll go, and began to fade … until surely, now it cannot be given, my spouse Nancy.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #152 texts #ballad sequence

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love-and-monsters · 4 years ago

Text

Faebruary: Fake Dating

M Faerie X F human, 7,922 words

You guys remember this post? Well, here’s the story it was based on. A human gets lost in the Faerie world, and her only hope of getting back home safe is agreeing to go on a date with one smug Faerie boy. Hope you enjoy!

Admittedly, this was probably something you should have seen coming when you stepped into a fairy ring.

It was stupid. Everyone said you weren’t supposed to step inside the little circles of mushrooms that sprouted up all over the hills. But it was just stupid. Fairies weren’t real. So when there had been a circle of mushrooms across your path, you had just walked toward it.

The instant your foot crossed the line, there was a sickening spinning feeling in your stomach. Your foot plunged down like you’d missed a step in the dark and you fell into a swirling sea of mist.

You came to spitting out leaves, though you couldn’t remember hitting the ground. It was as if the ground had materialized against your face. Slowly, you staggered upright.

There was no longer sunlight. The forest was full of mist. And the trees seemed much more closely clustered than they had before. Their bark was darker, their branches more gnarled and reaching.

It was deathly silent. You wrapped your jacket closer around yourself. “Hello?” you called. Your voice died a foot from your throat. It was like the mist absorbed the sound.

Several feet in front of you, a pale blue light blinked into being.

“Hey!” you called. “I’m over here!” The blue light winked and bobbed, then began to shrink into the distance. You plunged through the foliage after it.

No matter how fast you ran, the light seemed to be permanently ahead of you. It sped up as you went onward until you were flat-out sprinting to keep up.

“I wouldn’t follow the light if I were you.”

You skidded to a stop, feet skidding on the damp leaves. The voice had come from somewhere above you. Squinting in the dim light, you could make out a figure crouching in the tree branches. Lightning fast, the figure leaped, vanishing into the mists.

“Fuck!” you swore, looking around. The figure was gone. It had moved so fast you hadn’t even been able to see where it had gone. Frantic, you looked for the blue light. Had it gotten away while you were looking at the figure?

“You’re not going to lose the light.” The voice came from behind and above you this time. You whipped toward it. The figure was pointing into the distance. Following the finger, you could see the gentle gleam of blue light bobbing there, like it was waiting.

An unsettled crawling feeling moved up your spine. “How did you know it was going t be there?”

Details of the figure were impossible to make out in the dim lighting, but you could hear that he was grinning. “Because will-O-the-wisps are nothing if not predictable.”

He punctuated his sentence by leaping from the tree and coming to a crouched landing in front of you.

You stared. What had landed in front of you was not human. He looked vaguely human, even handsome, by some definitions. A strong, though narrow, jaw, sharp nose, black hair that was teased back into a carefully disheveled style. But he was dressed in odd clothes, the sort of thing you’d expect from an old English court, and he had a tail. A long, thin tail that weaved and twisted behind him like it was caught in a current. And he had antlers, small, but pronounced antlers.

“I forgot,” he said. “Mortals are so often stunned into silence when they see the natural splendor of the Fair Folk.”

That made you find your tongue. “What are you?”

His smirk vanished. “There was a time when mortals were rightfully respectful of us. If you had half a head of sense, you would be on your knees, begging for mercy.”

There was a pause, as if he was waiting for you to do so. You didn’t, though you kept your mouth cautiously shut. He snorted. “I’m a Fae. One of the Fair Folk. And you, little mortal, are utterly trapped in the Faerie lands.”

“Trapped?” you repeated. An icy cold stone dropped into your stomach.

The Faerie grinned. “Now you see the truth of your situation. Yes. You’re trapped. Unless you convince a Faerie to let you go, you’ll be trapped in this land for all eternity.” He swept closer to you. “And this place is not safe for lone mortals. There are things here that would make you wish the will-O-the-wisp would have dragged you down into its bog and stripped the meat from your bones.”

You couldn’t repress a shudder. The Fae noticed and his smile grew wider. “I assume you’re telling me this for a reason,” you said, keeping your eyes on him.

“Me?” he said, pressing a hand to his chest, the picture of faux-innocence. “I want to show you the way out. You do want to go home, do you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Uh huh. And I’m assuming you want something in return.”

His lips curled. “Figures the one thing humans wouldn’t forget about a Faerie is that we like even trades. It would make things so much easier.” He ruffled his fingers through his hair, carefully avoiding his antlers. “Yes. If you would like me to guide you out of the Faerie world, then I will need something in return.”

He didn’t continue. You narrowed your eyes at him. “And what is that?”

He huffed out a sigh. “Not going to write me a blank check, hm? Fine. If I am going to lead you out of here, I need you to agree to attend a Faerie party with me.”

That threw you for a loop. “You want me to what?”

“Attend a party with me,” he said, grinning at your confusion.

“That’s it?” you asked. He nodded.

“One night, twelve hours, at a party with me,” he said. “All I need is for you to attend as my date.”

That seemed far too good to be true. “Is this a trick? Some kind of way to trap me or humiliate me or otherwise coerce me into staying?”

The Faerie rolled his eyes. “Are all humans so suspicious? No. I just need a date.”

“Why don’t you pick a Faerie, then?” you asked.

“Because I think you would piss of my parents the most,” he said.

You lifted one of your eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

He waved a hand. “Neither. I just need a mortal. That would completely ruin their night.”

There was genuine venom in his voice when he said it. You stared at him, struck dumb. How old was he? You mentally reassessed him. His age was sort of difficult to determine. There was an unearthly beauty to him, no sign of the sort of little imperfections that come around with age. But if you looked really closely, studied the lines of his face, he looked like someone barely out of his teenage years. Maybe nineteen, or at least the Faerie equivalent. You held back a snort. At least maturity wise, you were probably around two years older than he was.

The Faerie drew himself up haughtily, apparently taking your silence as some sort of agreement. “You must state your agreement out loud. It will be a Faerie agreement, so there will be no going back on your deal.” He smiled unpleasantly. “Backing out of a Faerie deal is not a good idea, especially for a fragile mortal.”

You eyed him cautiously. There was still a chance he was trying to trick you or coerce you or trying to do something else of the sort. But, given how young he seemed, you were somewhat less inclined to suspicion. The longer you spent with him, the more affected his persona seemed. It was the posturing of someone who had just been given their first taste of power and was still unsure how to properly use it.

“All right,” you said. “How do we make an agreement?”

The Faerie smiled smugly and extended a hand. Several of his fingers were clad with large, heavy rings, inset with black gems. All of them bore a triangular symbol. “Take my hand.” He said it like it was some sort of great favor to you. You did so. His fingers felt oddly sharp under his skin, slender and bony. “Now. The stipulations of this deal are that I will return you to the human world, to your home. In exchange for this, you will attend a dance with me as my date. You will be my date for twelve hours, over one night. Once the night is over, I will return you home again.”

“I have stipulations,” you said, forcing your voice to be confident. He lifted an eyebrow, but allowed your to continue. “While I am your guest, you will not conspire against me in any way. You will not allow me to come to any harm, nor will you attempt to trap me here once more. If I am harmed in any way, the deal is null and void and you will return me home immediately.”

The Faerie wrinkled his nose. “I would not allow my date to be harmed. Even if you are a mortal, the rules of hospitality still apply to you.”

“And you won’t allow me to unknowingly do anything that could harm me,” you added. The Faerie gave you a sarcastic look.

“Are you finished?” he drawled. You hesitated, trying to wrack your brain for anything else you might need. Nothing came immediately to mind.

“Yes. I’m finished,” you said, however suspiciously. The Faerie grinned.

“Then the deal is struck.” His voice seemed to boom through the forest. A tingling sensation ran across the back of your hand, then it sharpened into a piercing sting, like an insect was biting the back of your hand. You yelped, but the Faerie held onto your hand firmly.

The sting faded and the Faerie released your fingers. You shook your hand, trying to get the blood to flow through it again. On the back of your hand, imprinted as neatly on your skin as a tattoo, was a black marking. It was a circle, emblazoned with some kind of angular sigil.

“It marks our bargain,” the Faerie said, showing you his own hand. He was similarly marked, though his brand was bright purple. “Should either of us break it, the mark will sink into our skin, and we shall endure some sort of tragedy.” He smiled, all needle-sharp teeth and cruelty. “So be certain that you do not break it.”

“I won’t,” you said, voice flinty. The Faerie looked amused by your anger.

“Then I shall fulfill my bargain first,” he said. He held out his arm to you, as if he was escorting you to a party rather than freeing you from an alien realm. “Shall we go?”

You hesitated, but he had made a promise. And you had also heard that Faeries couldn’t lie. You took a deep breath and linked your arm through his. “Yes.”

The Faerie took a step forward and the ground tilted under your feet. The mist billowed out obscuring your vision. The only thing that seemed real was the Faerie next to you. Your grip on him tightened, despite yourself.

“Move,” the Faerie said into your ear. You took an uncertain step forward. The mist had covered the ground so thickly that it looked like you were walking on clouds. When you took a step forward, the ground seemed to spin under your feet, like you were covering more distance than you should have been. You felt dizzy, but the Faerie moved forward with uncompromising speed and pulled you along. Only a few steps later, the mist had disoriented you so much that you couldn’t tell where anything was. The world seemed to be spinning around you even when you weren’t moving. You needed to cling to the Faerie’s arm to stay on your feet.

Sunlight pierced through the trees and you squinted your eyes shut. The mist evaporated within seconds and you were standing once more in your familiar forest, blinking up into the bright light.

“And my part of the bargain has been fulfilled.” The Faerie looked no less alien and beautiful in the human world. He grinned at you. “Home again, exactly where you were taken.”

You were still clinging to his arm, you realized. Slowly, you unwound your fingers from his shirt and stepped away.

“I shall return for you on the night of the Winter Ball.”

“Which is when?” you asked.

“The full moon next. I shall find you proper garments.” He gave you a critical once over, indicating that he wasn’t optimistic about your chances of finding them yourself. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “We will meet again then.”

Mist rolled across your vision. When it melted away again, he was gone. You stared at the spot for a moment, then looked down at your hand. The marking was still there, as starkly black as it had been before. At least it was proof that you hadn’t made it up. With a final glance at the Faerie ring a few feet away, you turned and headed out of the forest.

The sun’s position told you that you should have arrived back a few hours after you left. Your arrival home informed you that was actually a day and a few hours since you’d left. Your mother left you with a lecture ringing in your ears, one that had only gotten more aggressive when she’d seen the marking on the back of your hand. No matter what you said, there was no way to convince her that you hadn’t gotten drunk, gotten a tattoo, and passed out in the woods somewhere. Admittedly, you were a little disheveled. Once you had freed yourself from her grasp, you slipped up to your room and checked your calendar.

The next full moon was just over a week away. You marked it off on your calendar and took a deep breath. Right. Time to start prepping.

Your week was filled with pawing through old books and scouring the internet for every scrap of Faerie lore that you could find. By the time the full moon had rolled around, you had gathered as many supplies as you could find.

You were waiting in your room uncertainly when the full moon rose. The Faerie had told you he would find you, but did you need to be outside for it?

Before you could make any decisions on it, the moonlight filtering through your window thickened into a sheet of silver. It rippled and the Faerie stepped out of it like a doorway.

Unfairly, he looked even more handsome than he had when you’d met in the woods. He was dressed in silvery clothes, a flowing robe and cloak with a silvery ruff. His tail and ears were adorned with silver bangles, a choker pressed tight to his throat, and his horns were covered in silvery strands, like tinsel.

“You could have freshened up a little more,” he said, giving you a once-over. You gritted your teeth and one of your hands went to the little bag you had tied to your waist, hidden securely under your shirt. It was filled with salt and little pieces of iron. More iron and salt packets lined the inside of your clothes and you had strapped an iron knife to the inside of your thigh. A string of rowan berries was tied at your neck. With any fortune, those charms would be enough to drive off any cruel Faeries.

“I thought you were going to provide me with the garments you found appropriate,” you said in a clipped voice.

“Only because mortals unilaterally lack taste,” he said. “There’s really only so much I can do.” He stepped back and gave a broad gesture toward the shaft of moonlight. “We only have an hour before the Ball starts. Hopefully that’s enough time to make you presentable.”

You drew yourself up and stepped through the portal of light. A chill rolled over your skin, like you had stepped through a cloud of mist.

One of your feet struck a tiled floor and you stopped. The moonlight faded into a tall, ice-white room with an arched ceiling and silvery lights decorating the walls. You paused to take in the décor and the Faerie walked into your back.

“Excuse me,” he snapped, glaring at you. You glared back. “Follow me. I have a dress picked out for you.”

He led you into a small room. A curtain divided it in half and there was a dress draped over a chair. It was gauzy and made of pale blues, silvers, and white. “Put it on. One of the servants will do your hair.”

“Servants?” you said, but he had already swept back out of the room. You sighed and picked up the dress. At least it wasn’t overly elaborate.

You slipped hurriedly into the dress. It was clearly simpler than his outfit, with far less adornment. Perhaps mortals weren’t allowed to wear as much finery as Faeries, or perhaps he just didn’t want you to outshine him. Either way, you were grateful for anything that made the outfit easier to wear.

The servants, as it turned out, were small, fluttering creatures that did your hair in a quick, simple style, a braid that was wound at the nape of your neck and secured with a silver pin. You caught a glance of yourself in a silver reflection. The dress emphasized your curves and complimented your skin tone. Your beauty wasn’t stunning, but it was simple and understated.

As soon as the servants departed, the Faerie was sweeping back into the room, cape swirling around his body. He looked you up and down. “Well, you can clean up nicely,” he said. You caught the way his eyes lingered on you. The faintest hint of a blush colored his cheeks, but then he was turning away. “Come. We need to hurry to arrive on time.”

You picked up your skirts and hurried down the hall after him. Thankfully the shimmering heels you wore were short, so it was not so difficult to walk in them. “I still don’t know your name,” you said as you caught up with him. His gaze shifted to yours suspiciously. Names were important to Faeries, you had read. Clearly, he was trying to determine if you knew that or if you were speaking in ignorance.

Finally, he spoke. “You may not have my name, but you may call me Elwain.” He tilted his head slightly toward you. “And yours?”

You told him, mimicking his wording. It was hard to tell if his expression was disappointed or not. He just strode out of the front door and onto the front steps.

Outside was all greenery, and pale, twinkling lights. Elwain led you down the steps and toward a skeletal white horse. You shivered when its pale eyes turned to you. Its mane and tail rippled and flickered like it was made of mist. There was an elegant saddle attached to its back and Elwain easily gripped the reins and pulled himself up onto its back. You hesitated, uncertain of how to climb on. You’d never ridden a horse before.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Elwain said. You glared at him. He merely rolled his eyes and extended a hand. You gripped it. His fingers were strong and steady against yours as he pulled you up into the saddle behind him. Your hands moved automatically to his waist. A flicker of something moved through your stomach before you quashed it.

The horse took off, hooves striking the ground with a sound like metal clanging. You lurched into Elwain’s back, fingers tightening at his waist. His breath caught for a moment, though you weren’t sure if it was actually your grip causing it.

The ride was swift and rocky. You were pressed awkwardly to Elwain’s back for most of it, leaning against him with every motion of the mount.

You were expecting to stop at another house, some sort of grand mansion like the one you’d left from. Instead, you stopped outside a grove of trees. They were covered in twinkling lights and noises of whooping celebration echoed through the air.

Elwain dismounted flawlessly. You twisted, attempting to copy his elegant motion. Your foot caught in the stirrup. With a stomach-flipping jolt, you stumbled.

A hand braced itself between your shoulder blades. The back of your head impacted a chest. You tilted your gaze backward. The upside-down face of Elwain stared back at you. “Mortals,” he sighed. “Hold onto me.” He shifted his position so you could get your arms around his neck. That fluttering feeling of attraction started in your chest again as he balanced you against his shoulder and reached down to undo your foot from its catch in the stirrup.

As soon as your leg was free, he lifted you up, carrying you away from the horse. “Are you all right?” he asked. You could feel his breath against your cheek. Your faces were right next to each other.

“I’m fine,” you said. There was a slight catch in your voice. A pink flush worked across Elwain’s face and he deposited you on the ground once more.

“Then we should go.” He looked at you for a moment, then sighed and reached out and fiddled with the choker at your neck. His fingers traced lightly over your skin. Your breath caught.

“There. Better,” he said, drawing himself up. “Take my arm. Stay close to me. Avoid eating anything. Take nothing from anyone. Do you understand?”

You nodded. “I understand.” You looped your arm through his. He looked at you for a moment longer, then turned toward the entrance of the party.

Music filtered through the air as you stepped through the grove of trees. It was odd, but alluring. It reminded you of lights shifting on walls, the tone constantly changing with odd trills throughout, but it was still beautiful. You shook your head, refocusing.

People swirled around you as you entered the clearing. They were strange, dressed in flowing robes and bright jewels that hung from tails and horns. As odd as it all was, it was hard to tear your eyes away. Everything was kaleidoscopic, mesmerizing.

“Try not to look,” Elwain said. His voice was less than an inch from your ear. “Mortal minds struggle to comprehend the true nature of Faeries.” You lowered your gaze to the ground.

Elwain led you onward, across the forest floor, toward the center of the throng. Bright lights fell on you and you squinted against them. “Announcing the Silver Son, Elwain Corridale, and his mortal consort!”

There was a sudden burst of murmuring, chittering, and general commotion. You lifted your chin, meeting the gazes of the Faeries who were looking at you with interest. Across the clearing, you could see two people, similarly beautiful and draped in clothes similar to Elwain’s, glaring. Presumably Elwain’s parents. You stared resolutely back at them.

The lights shifted away from you, but you could feel the gazes of the crowd on you regardless as Elwain led you over to the edge of the grove.

“Those two strict looking people your parents?” you asked out of the corner of your mouth.

“Yes,” Elwain whispered back. “Charming, aren’t they?” There was a sarcastic bite to his voice.

“I’m assuming you don’t get along,” you said. You were deliberately not looking at them, but you could feel their cool gazes on you. Elwain snorted.

“No. We don’t.” His gaze flicked over to them, eyes narrowed. “They seem quite irritated, do they not?” There was a note of distinct pleasure in his voice. His pale, inviting lips quirked into a small smile.

“They do,” you said cautiously. “Because you’re with a mortal?”

“Indeed.” He caught your curious gaze and rolled his eyes. “I suppose I shall have to sate your curiosity now?”

“Unless you have something better to do,” you said. “It doesn’t seem like it, considering that you’re hiding in a corner in the middle of a party.”

His gaze snapped over to you, lips curling. “You are especially irritating, even for a mortal, you know?” he said. You just looked at him steadily. He huffed out a sigh and looked back out at the dance floor. “We have not been getting along for a while.”

He lapsed into silence and you waited for a moment. “Why not?” you pressed when his was clear he was not going to be forthcoming with the answers.

Elwain grimaced. “I am the oldest of my family, set to inherit their wealth and land and the responsibility of keeping the family name out of the mud and in good standing. I’d much rather not have the responsibility. My younger sibling would be far better at taking the helm, but I am the eldest, so it falls to me, regardless of whether or not I want it, or would even be particularly good at it.” A sharp, cold grin crossed his face. “My parents have been so insistent that I take the position, regardless of my own feelings, so I figured that aggressively smearing the family name would, at the very least, piss them off. If they won’t change their decision, I can make them regret it.” He laughed. It was sharp and brittle, almost like a crow’s caw. Despite yourself, you smirked. Elwain caught your expression. “You seem… pleased.”

“It’s funny,” you admitted. “And I can get behind the idea of spiting your parents.”

Elwain’s smile shifted. It was a subtle thing, just a twitch of his lips and a smoothing of his brows, but it altered his entire expression. There was genuine happiness in his face, and his ethereal beauty melted into something gentler and more boyish. Your stomach gave a little flip. “You’re not irritated?” he asked, and there was genuine curiosity in his voice. “Mortals always seem to get awfully huffy about being used by Faeries.”

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t irritated. But I understand,” you said. You cast your gaze over at his parents again. The man was talking to someone with enormous antlers and strange, twisting legs, but his mother was glaring at you. Her gaze was like ice. It took all your will to repress a shiver. “Would you like to dance?”

Elwain gave you a surprised look. “You’d like to dance?”

“Better than standing off to one side. And if we’re going to try to be convincing to your parents, we’ll need to put on a better show than this.” Elwain’s surprise melted into an expression of amusement. His arm tightened on yours.

“Certainly. Wonderful point. Shall we?” He pulled you out onto the dance floor, threading you through the Faeries that were already out there. You ended up roughly toward the center. Some Faeries, the ones you figured were lower-class, avoided you, while others completely ignored your presence. Elwain stopped and turned to you, one hand settling on your waist, the other hand gripping yours. “Will you be able to keep up?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

You grinned back, mimicking his sharp grin. “Try me.”

The music was fast and energetic as you started to move. The beat was bouncing, easy to keep track of. Elwain led and you followed easily. Together, you swirled and weaved around the other couples.

Elwain’s hand shifted on your waist, tugging you closer to him. His fingers interlaced with yours. The beat of the music thrummed through your body, pounding in time with your heart. You were tepidly aware of other people around you, but you paid them no mind. Instead, you focused on Elwain’s face above yours, the slight knit of his brow as he focused on each dance move.

The music came to a stop. You blinked. It was as if you were stepping out of a trance, or waking from a dream. Your body was pressed against Elwain’s, almost chest to chest. With every step, you had drawn closer to each other. Your head was tilted sharply back to still look him in his face. His lips were parted slightly, and you found yourself tracing the curve of his mouth with your eyes. His fingers were tight on your lower back, tangled in the fabric of your dress.

“You’re better than I thought you’d be,” Elwain said. There was still that little edge to his voice, but it was wavering, as if it was a struggle to keep it up. He was panting a little, and you weren’t sure if it was actually from the exertion or not.

“So are you,” you said. You were staring up into his eyes. His pupils were large, endless and abyssal. He let out a slow, shuddering breath. His grip on your back loosened.

As you broke apart, you became aware of the gazes that rested upon you. Half the Faeries on the dance floor around you were staring, only swaying vaguely as a pretense for dancing. “Take a bow,” Elwain said, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smile. He swept out an arm and you mimicked him before bending low into a deep bow.

There was some scattered applause as you departed the dance floor, returning to your original place. Elwain was smiling in a smug, self-satisfied way. “I’m fulfilling my end of the bargain, yes?” you asked in an undertone.

Elwain looked down at you. “You’re certainly more effective than I thought you would be,” he said. “I can’t quite remember the last time I’ve had such a good time at a party.”

“I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” you decided.

“Good,” Elwain said. His voice quieted a little and sincerity blossomed in his tone. “I meant it as one.”

Before you could fully register what he’d said, Elwain’s mother came sweeping across the room toward you. She looked regal and fine, like a sculpture carved out of ice, her eyes blazing with cold fire. Her blonde hair was twisted into a tight bun, set in place with a silver, diamond-encrusted comb.

“Mother,” Elwain said. His voice was chilly enough to provoke a shiver, but you lifted your chin and stared defiantly back as his mother looked you up and down. Her lip curled and she gave you a clear look of disapproval.

“My son,” she said. Her voice hit like a whip. It took some willpower to avoid flinching. “I would like to speak to you for a moment.” It was clearly not a suggestion.

“Of course,” Elwain said, his voice measured and polite. He turned to you and fixed you with a smile. It was startlingly warm and your stomach flipped over. You bit your tongue, trying to kick the feeling away. No. Bad. Don’t start catching feelings for this guy. Elwain bent at the waist, drawing one of your hands up to his lips. His mouth brushed delicately along your knuckles. “I will return. Wait for me.”

His mother’s expression became icier and more remote, but she said nothing as she and Elwain stepped away from you. They moved to somewhere still within your eyesight, but out of earshot. You could tell they were having an intense, whispered conversation, and you could guess that you were the topic, but you couldn’t catch any details.

You were so distracted, trying to catch a whisper of their conversation, that you didn’t notice the Faerie at your side until he had grabbed your arm.

“Little mortal,” he crooned. He was pretty, so much so that it was uncanny to look at. You tried to pull your arm free from his, but his fingers were sharp and immovable as solid wood. He tugged on you, dragging you slowly but undeniably toward the dance floor.

“Little mortals shouldn’t be all alone in Faerie,” he said. His voice bounced around the inside of your head, banging off the sides of your skull until your brain was suffused by ringing noise. It was dizzying. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

He was dragging you steadily toward the dance floor. Memories of your studies screamed alarms at you. Mortals trapped in swirling Faerie dances, unable to stop even as their feet bled and their muscles strained with exhaustion. Already, you could hear the enchanting, piping music. Your brain was fuzzing. One of your hands scrabbled for the cold iron pendant under your dress, but your fingers felt clumsy. You couldn’t resist. Why did you even want to resist? The music was so beautiful, leaping through your veins, and it would be so amazing to just be able to dance…

Someone’s hand caught yours. You staggered to a stop, the fog retreating from your brain. The Faerie snarled, dropping his grip on you.

“I would thank you not to try and steal my date,” Elwain said. His voice was freezing. Even with the full force of it turned on someone else, you couldn’t stop yourself from shivering. The Faerie that had tried to grab you shrank back.

“Of course, if I had known the mortal was yours, I would have left her alone,” the Faerie said, ducking his head and backing away. “Apologies, my lord.” He scrambled back into the crowd, melting away.

Elwain glared after him until he was gone, then turned to you, offering his arm. “Are you all right?”

You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself. “Fine.”

“I did tell you to avoid the other Fae,” he said in a scolding tone. You glared at him.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” you said. “He ambushed me.” With Elwain’s arm around yours, the music that had been scrambling your brain seemed distant. He led you back across the room. His fingers were tight on your arm. Even when you were a safe distance away from the other Fae, he didn’t release you.

“Maybe we should stay somewhere else, for now,” he said. He picked his way through the crowd to a gap between the trees and worked his way through them.

It took only a few moments to get to the edge of the forest. The sky overhead was filled with more stars than you’d ever seen. You could even see the gradation of color from the deep navy blue at its zenith to the faint, almost purple color at the edges.

Elwain released your arm and closed his eyes. His expression fell. Suddenly, he looked exhausted and wan. You hesitated before asking, “Did everything go all right with your mother?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “She was most displeased,” he said in a haughty tone that suggested he was mimicking her. “Most displeased indeed that I was disgracing the family name by dallying with a mortal.” He rolled his eyes. “You would think she didn’t have mortal blood in her family.”

“She does?” you said. Elwain lifted a shoulder in a moody shrug.

“Most Faeries do, even the nobility. The Queen is rumored to have mortal blood in her lineage, even. Our own reproductive ability is poor. Mortals are much better at breeding. It’s not uncommon for a Faerie to marry another Faerie and sire all his children with one of his mortal servants.”

“Then why is it such a problem to be with me?” Elwain gave you a look that suggested you were either very thick or very naïve.

“You’re allowed to breed with a mortal, but you’re not supposed to treat them as an equal. You’re certainly not supposed to date one, or show her off as your partner. Breeding with mortals is more of an open secret. Actually marrying a mortal would be a huge drop in status, and as the oldest son of my family, it would be a scandal if I even married a Faerie of lower status, much less a mortal.”

“That’s why you thought I would piss off your parents,” you said. “You’re putting your family status in jeopardy.”

Elwain nodded. “Yes. They’re so concerned about my family name, I figured putting it under threat will at least get some kind of reaction.” There was an undercurrent of vindictiveness in his voice. “Perhaps it will at least get them to see that I am a living person and not just a walking vessel for carrying on their line.”

Without thinking, you put a hand on his shoulder. He went stiff, staring at you. “Glad I could help with that. It sounds like a worthy cause. I’m all for pissing off shitty parents.”

Elwain looked at you with an unreadable expression. Then his mouth twitched and he smiled. “Well, then. We should get back and do it some more, shouldn’t we?” He reached up and took your hand off his shoulder. Instead of hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, as he had been doing, he kept it in his hand.

There was a faint whistling noise. Something whizzed by your ear and made a dull ‘thunk’ as it embedded itself in the tree trunk behind you.

Your ear was stinging. You reached up and touched it. Your hand came away bloody.

“Get down!” Elwain pulled you into the bushes. His body was nearly on top of yours, pressing you down into the undergrowth. One of his hands pressed against the small of your back.

“Someone’s shooting at us!” you said redundantly. Elwain lifted his head slightly, trying to get a look around the brush. Another arrow whizzed by, slamming into the ground less than an inch from your hand.

Elwain made to grab it and yanked his hand back with a hiss. You could smell sizzing flesh. “It’s cold iron,” he said. “They’re for killing Faeries.” Horror crept into his voice. “They’re here to kill me.”

Another arrow plunged into the ground. This one was less than an inch from one of Elwain’s hands. “We need to move before they get a shot!” you said. “I can distract them, then you can run.”

“Wait! That may not be a good ide-” Before Elwain could finish his protest, you pushed your way out of the bush you’d hidden in and plunged blindly into the woods.

There were several more whistling thunks as arrows rained down on you. One of them ripped its way through the skirt of your dress and you had to pause and wrench it free. When you lifted your gaze to start running again, a shadowy figure descended from the trees in front of you.

They were entirely wrapped in black, so their features were difficult to make out, except for the fact that they were tall and skinny. A hand clapped down on your shoulder, right at the junction of your neck. It was cold, with needle-sharp fingers.

“Little mortal,” they crooned. “We were only told to kill the Faerie. With you, we can do whatever we please.” One of their fingers stroked along your cheek. Your mind fogged. “Wouldn’t you like to be my little plaything? We would have so much fun together. Or perhaps it would be funny for that little lordling to die by your hands? What a fitting death for the mortal lover.”

One of your hands went under your dress. Your brain was fuzzy, but your mind cleared as your fingers brushed your string of rowan berries. Still, you kept your gaze as unfocused as possible. Your other hand was creeping under the back of your dress. Your cold iron knife burned against your thigh. “Call out to him,” the Faerie said. “He’ll come for you, and then we’ll see how he fares when his little pet bites back-”

The Faerie had no chance to react. The knife ripped free from its sheath and you wrenched it up then down in a plunging arc. The blade tore into his chest. The smell of burning meat filled the air around you. Flesh sizzled as you ripped the knife down, carving open his belly.

The Faerie’s expression turned from gloating to terror. He staggered back, hands clamped to his gut. His motion wrenched the knife free from your hand, leaving it embedded in his stomach. He fumbled for it once, twice, before pulling it out of him. A gout of blood poured from the wound, soaking through his black clothes and puddling in the dirt.

He collapsed sideways on the ground. He was still breathing. You could hear the soft, wheezing gasps as he struggled for air. Gradually, the breaths became garbled, gurgling. He coughed, body spasming. Something warm and wet was soaking your feet. You didn’t want to look down. There was so much blood around him, more blood than you’d thought could be in a person.

It took a few moments to realize that the gurgling had stopped.

Something crashed through the bushes behind you. You whirled, lifting your second weapon in your hand. It was smaller, blunter, but maybe if you cracked them over the head, you could stun them for long enough you get away-

“Watch yourself. It’s only me,” Elwain said. He emerged into a shaft of moonlight. His long cloak was hanging in tatters from his shoulder and there were smears of muck and dirt across his face and clothes. His hair was in complete disarray. His gaze traveled up and down your body. “You’re bleeding.”

“No,” you said, stepping back to reveal the body on the ground behind you, “I’m not.”

There was a cold pause. Elwain looked between the body and you several times, as if trying to reconcile the evidence. Finally, he stepped past you and knelt next to the body.

“Cold iron,” he said, his tone unreadable. “I should have searched you before bringing you here. I figured humans had largely forgotten all the old methods.”

“If you had searched me, he would have killed me and then you,” you said in a chilly voice.

“A fair enough point,” Elwain said, albeit a touch reluctantly. “You are far more clever than I gave you credit for.” He rustled with the body a bit more, then went still, sucking in a sharp breath.

“What?” you said, leaning over his shoulder. He lifted a silvery pendant, dangling it from a chain around his fingers.

“I recognize this,” he said in a hollow voice. “My family crest.”

You stared at the little triangular that dangled from the chain. “He was from your family.”

“Sent by them, at least. The crest marks him as one of our assassins.” His voice caught. It was only the slightest of noises, something that you almost didn’t notice. For a moment, his expression crumpled. He took in a swift, choked breath and his face smoothed over. His eyes were still distant, staring absently ahead.

You reached out and squeezed his hand. His fingers tightened on yours with crushing force. “I’m sorry.”

He breathed deeply. “We need to go. If there’s one, there will be more.” He fumbled with the ties of his cloak. It dropped into the foliage. He was turning to you in a moment, fingers sliding along your bodice. You yelped quietly as he tugged free some of the outer layers of your dress, leaving a shift that would be far easier to run in. Despite the danger, you found yourself focusing on the skim of his fingers against your skin.

“Where are we going?” you asked as Elwain started to tug you through the trees.

He skidded to a stop, gaze darting wildly. “I- I don’t know.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His expression was lost, uncertain. There was nowhere for him to go, you realized. His family was gone. He was being chased by assassins. His life was gone.

Fine. You would take over. “Go back to the mortal world,” you said. “It’ll at least shake them off your tail for a while.”

Elwain blinked at you, expression clearing. His fingers tightened on yours and he picked up into a run. Within a few steps, you were staggering to a stop in a mortal forest.

“They probably won’t come after me,” Elwain said. “They won’t want to draw the attention of mortals. And as long as I’m here, I’m out of their way.” He blinked slowly. “I have been exiled from Faerie on pane of death.” His voice was hollow, weak.

You leaned against him, trying to comfort him. “I’m so sorry.”

Elwain tossed his head back and laughed. It was a sharp, grating laugh, nearly inhuman. Your hair stood on end hearing it. “I knew my family had executed political irritants before,” he said between choked breaths, “but I never realized they would count me among the number!”

His laughter broke, turned into wracking sobs. He swayed into your side, pressing his face into your shoulder. You rubbed his back helplessly.

It took some time before he lifted his head again. He looked significantly less magnificent in his tattered clothes, with his eyes bloodshot and puffy. There was something oddly endearing about it, though. “I don’t know where to go,” he said in a quiet voice. “I have never had to stay in the mortal world before.”

“You can stay with me,” you said. “But you’re going to have to pull your weight.”

He looked at you archly, drawing himself up in a way that could have made him look impressive, except the effect was ruined by his running makeup. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

You smiled. “You’re going to have to get a job.”

Two weeks later, Elwain came stumbling into the house and fell face-first onto the couch.

“How was work?” you asked. Elwain let out a tortured groan. “That good, huh?”

“Every day I work there and don’t curse someone is a miracle,” he said, voice still muffled in the cushions.

“I mean, you’re doing pretty good. And the tip money is really something,” you said. It was odd to see Elwain in a cheap fast-food uniform, but even that couldn’t dampen his unearthly attractiveness. There had been a small gaggle of people who’d been leaving generous tips along with some suggestive compliments.

Elwain crawled across the couch and planted his head in your lap. You drew your fingers slowly through his hair. “I don’t see why I have to work a job. I could glamour a few stones into diamonds and we would be set for life.”

You snorted. “The illusion would wear off and selling diamonds isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is. If you’re going to live in the mortal world, you need to live like a mortal.”

Elwain rolled his eyes. “You are a slave driver.”

“Yeah, I’m so cruel,” you laughed. “Maybe next time, I’ll let the assassins get you.”

Elwain sat up. His face had a tendency to flush patchily, with red spreading unevenly over his skin. It was oddly humanizing. “It was rather impressive, that move with the knife under your dress,” he said. “You were far more clever than I gave you credit for.”

“Thank you,” you said, a little smug. “Us mortals are quite impressive, aren’t we?”

“Hmph.” Elwain’s blush deepened. “Yes, well. Out of all the mortals I could have picked, I’m quite pleased it was you.” He curled up in your lap. His face nestled into the crook of your neck. “You are quite a special mortal.”

“Hm.” You smiled. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You could feel Elwain’s mouth move against your skin and the soft rush of his breath as he laughed. “Good. It was intended as such.”

#exophilia #Fae #Faerie #faerie boyfriend #fake dating #monster x human #monster boyfriend #faerie x human #if there's interest in this I'll probably write a part two #I'd like to explore more of Elwain in the human world

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