#Engraftment

[rodspurethoughts]

FDA Approves Omisirge, a Cell Therapy for Blood Cancer Patients Undergoing Stem Cell Transplantation

The FDA has recently approved a cell therapy called Omisirge (omidubicel-onlv) for patients with blood cancers who are undergoing stem cell transplantation. This allogeneic cord blood-based cell therapy can help speed up the recovery of neutrophils in the body, a type of white blood cell, and reduce the risk of infection. Omisirge is intended for use in adults and pediatric patients 12 years and…

[transtheology]

According to Matson, 39, his “disclosing,” as he describes it, is a moment years in the making. He offered his story as indicative of the often difficult path for trans Catholics, including those seeking life as a religious — a category that includes brothers and nuns.

“I am currently based in the Appalachian mountains of eastern Kentucky,” he wrote in an email to friends and supporters on Sunday. “I live in a hermitage at the top of a wooded hill, which I share with my German Shepherd rescue, Odie, and with the Blessed Sacrament, which was installed in my oratory shortly before Christmas.”

[...] Matson approached a canon lawyer to discuss his options and was told that only two aspects of Catholic life were categorically off the table: marriage and the priesthood. According to Matson, the canon lawyer recommended being upfront about his status as a transgender man in any vocational conversations with church leaders and mentioned the role of a diocesan hermit, which could prove less challenging than enlisting with an existing religious order.

[...] What followed was roughly a decade of searching and no small amount of rejection. Living in the United Kingdom while pursuing a master’s degree, and later a Ph.D. in theology, Matson entered a vocational discernment program and approached the Jesuit order to ask if he could join.

“They said, ‘No, we just don’t see how this would work for us,’ which was crushing, because that’s where I felt called,” Matson said.

[...] “I thought, well, if I can’t find a religious community to sponsor me, maybe what I need is a bishop,” Matson said.

A priest friend recommended different bishops to contact, beginning with Stowe, who was emerging as a leading voice among Catholics calling for a more tolerant approach to LGBTQ+ people. In 2020, Matson sent Stowe a letter, conveying his status as a transgender man, his vision for an artists’ community and his pull to religious life.

Stowe wrote back immediately, expressing his openness.

“It was an enormous relief,” Matson said. “I was in tears. I felt my hope revive.”

[...] Matson vented his frustrations to Stowe and his spiritual director, saying he wanted to speak out. But he said he was advised to first “build a foundation” in religious life for several years.

During that time, Matson had an experience that shook him. Attending a friend’s play in his religious habit, he was approached by a student who identified as trans and nonbinary. After asking if Matson was a monk, the student said they were raised Catholic, but that their parents had rejected their identity, and the student felt like they “don’t have a place in the church anymore.”

Matson responded by saying there were people in the church who would support the student, and Matson prayed with them, asking God to show the student how they are “wonderful the way you’ve made them.” The student, Matson said, grew emotional, thanking the hermit profusely and saying, “No one from the church has ever affirmed me for who I am.”

[...] As for ever leaving Catholicism itself, Matson bristled at the idea, calling the church “my family.” “I’m Catholic,” he said. “I became Catholic after I transitioned because of the Catholic understanding — the sacramental understanding — of the body, of creation, of the desirability of the visible unity of the church and primarily because of the Eucharist.”

At the very least, Matson said, he hopes going public will spark dialogue about his fellow transgender Catholics, a discussion he believes can enhance unity among the body of believers.

“You’ve got to deal with us, because God has called us into this church,” he said. “It’s not your church to kick us out of — this is God’s church, and God has called us and engrafted us into it.”

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

By Kelly Betts

People can’t see my disability from the outside. I worry that in this current political climate and with the new law, it may not end at the comments and harassment I already face.

On Thursday, officials in Nassau County, New York, where I live, signed a mask ban into law, one of the first of its kind in the country. And while to most healthy adults it doesn’t mean much, to those with serious health conditions, like me, it makes getting out into the world a lot harder.

The ban was touted by lawmakers as a public safety measure after reported antisemitic incidents and protests at various New York universities, many involving people wearing masks. Those who violate the new law face a misdemeanor charge punishable by up to a year in jail and a $1,000 fine. And while there are exemptions for people with religious and medical reasons, it’s not dealing with the law that I’m afraid of. It’s dealing with the “citizen cops” of the world who will be using their discretion to enforce it.

I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia in February 2023. It’s a fast-growing type of blood cancer. I underwent more than five rounds of chemotherapy, and the following July, thanks to an amazingly generous donor, I had a stem cell transplant, something I knew nothing about until I got sick. I was given some of the most powerful chemotherapies to kill my old immune system and any remaining cancer cells. Then I was given my donor’s stem cells to help build a brand-new immune system.

There are a lot of risks that come along with the transplant, especially in the early stages as the stem cells are engrafting and you have no immune system. The first 100 days are the riskiest, and you must watch everything from what you eat to how it’s prepared, and most of all the people around you. Your body is starting from scratch, so you have almost no immunities. Any vaccinations you’ve had over your lifetime have been wiped out. For the last year since my transplant, my immune system has slowly been getting stronger. But building a new immune system takes years, and I have a long way to go. So, wearing my face mask whenever I go out is essential.

That brings me back to the new law. I wear a medic alert bracelet and would hope that showing it to the police, should it ever become an issue, would be enough. But that’s not guaranteed, because anyone can just order one. Would I be forced to show up in court to prove my medical condition to a judge? And what cost and time could that take, all to protect my health? And what about my family or people who act as caregivers, who don’t technically have medical conditions of their own, but still wear masks to protect me? Would there be an exemption for them?

Most of all, I worry about those who have strong feelings against masks. As we know, many people read headlines and not always the full story. And just reading most of the headlines, all someone will know is that there’s a mask ban in Nassau County. Even at the height of my illness, with no hair and really looking like I had cancer, I still got comments like “Covid is over” or “that’s not protecting you.” And while the few comments hurt, especially while I was battling for my life, I could shake them off. I had a bigger fight ahead of me.

Now, healthier with hair again and 43 years old, the comments continue. But I worry that in this current political climate and with the new law, it may not end at that. People can’t see my disability from the outside. It’s been hard to get back out in the world, as many can relate to after going through a global pandemic. Even being as careful as I am and just starting to let my guard down a little in outdoor settings, I caught Covid. And it took my body and immune system down hard. Luckily, I’m recovering and back to wearing my mask diligently, even outdoors.

I want to be able to return to my normal life. And go out with friends, see a Broadway show, and one day get back to my office in the city. But now with New York City considering passing its own mask ban, I don’t know when I would feel safe enough to do that. Is this law really protecting the masses?

[torchflies]

Hi have 2 questions!

1. What's the age difference between Bradley and CCS Jake?

2. Jake was 8 when he met them, 9 when he was getting his last treatment and by the tome he was 10 he was in remission, right? Just want to make sure my brain has the timeline right lol

I’m ready to answer, Nonny!

Approximately nine years, because Bradley got a late start 👀 and stubbornly worked to pay his own way for a few years before reapplying to the USNA. (Jake loves dinosaurs, what can I say? 😂)

2. Kind of.

See, Jake got his cord blood transplant at nine, yes, which officially destroyed all his cancer (the graft takes care of what was still there). That's technically remission at nine. But engraftment (the cord blood replacing all his destroyed bone marrow) takes FOREVER for cord blood transplants because of the small volume transplanted. It’s the major drawback for cord blood transplants (total hospitalized isolation for about 6 weeks and six months to a year before everything is as it should be — imagine having the immune system of a newborn again 😬 ).

Hope that helps! 😊

Thank you for your questions!!!! 🥹

[transmutationisms]

i just read Against Exercise. i wanted to ask what you make of this sentence and the wider paradigm he gestures at occasionally in the essay:

Upon the desperate materialist gratifications of a hedonic society, commanding immediate comfort and happiness, we engraft the desperate economics of health, and chase a longer span of happinesses deferred, and comforts delayed, by disposing of the better portion of our lives in life preservation.

do we live in a ‘hedonic’ society? and does that framing shape his conclusions on in ur opinion? i have my own thoughts but am interested in yours x

ok i'm glad you asked because i find this sentence and this paradigm very irritating lol. i don't think he's the only left-ish thinker who's acceded to this type of framing (like i've complained about mark fisher pulling a similar move) but with greif there's a particular irksomeness to it because, even in the sentence you've quoted, we can see in the latter half how he contradicts his own idea of a "hedonic society"! if his thesis here is something like "the dominant cultural paradigm encourages instant gratification and hedonism, and the exerciser defies this edict by deferring their happiness and sweating it out at the gym instead" then, like, the obvious question here is, where does the impulse of the exerciser come from? does greif actually think the pursuit of fitness and longevity by physical exertion is some kind of counter-cultural move that reacts against, without acceding to, the demands of a "hedonic society"? if he does then it kind of undercuts the significance of the entire rest of the essay, lmao.

my personal answer here would be—and this is something greif dances around a few times but doesn't ever seem prepared to fully unpack—that the demand to have a fit and 'healthy' and long-lasting body is not at all contradictory to the demand to consume goods, and that this latter is more precisely what is meant by "hedonism" here if we are to use it in any useful sense. i think what greif is actually pointing to is the demand to shape oneself into, simultaneously, a valuable worker and an obedient consumer. in an immediate sense these two goals demand different things (say, 'going for a run' vs 'buying products') but on a more thorough analysis we can easily see how they arise from the same fundamental logic of profit-seeking. body fascism has never been just an aesthetic; what it promises to the state and the corporation is a population that is biologically managed and economically exploitable. i think this is true even in an imperialist economy like the united states that doesn't run primarily on production/export.

i don't know a ton about mark greif biographically but my impression is that he's kind of half-left at best, lol. certainly he's like, curmudgeonly in a way that is sometimes useful to mine (ruthless criticism of all that exists, &c) but i think in this essay and others we can clearly see how easily that attitude can slide into just a vaguely reactionary position when it lacks materialist analysis. like, frankly i think if we lived in a social context that actually had a commitment to ensuring hedonic pleasure that would probably be a better world. it's kind of similar to when lib-left types try to claim that we live in a world that has any serious degree of commitment to "the individual" when what they actually, usually mean is that we've been massified in a way that denies us social connection and material support from one another.

anyway: 'against exercise' was very mind-blowing to me when i first read it and i love to see someone staking out that position seriously; and there are elements of greif's analysis i think can be useful in an actually communist analysis. but i find a lot of cultural criticism (specifically that positions itself as counter-cultural without being explicitly communist) has a risk of just sliding reactionary, and i think this half-baked idea of a "hedonic society" is an example of that happening. curious what you think though!

[secretmellowblog]

One aspect of Les Mis that gets lost in adaptations is how critical Hugo is of the Church, and the way Christianity can be used as a tool of oppression. Myriel is not supposed to represent a normal bishop-- he's a bizarre outlier. He's a rebel. No one else in the Church likes him because he's the only one who calls out their hypocrisy. And it's not a coincidence that the Thing that made Myriel go from being a shallow careless aristocratic cad to a gentle compassionate priest was....the French Revolution.

It's fascinating how much Myriel actually ends up agreeing with the atheist rebel Conventionary's attitudes towards the Church--- but it makes complete sense when you look at the way he's been interacting with religion for the past few decades of his life!

In 1.1.12 we're told that Myriel is flat-out shunned by all other bishops and priests, largely because he has no interest in using the Church to gain power and wealth.

He “did not take” in Paris. Not a single future dreamed of engrafting itself on this solitary old man. Not a single sprouting ambition committed the folly of putting forth its foliage in his shadow. (...)The impossibility of growing great under Monseigneur Bienvenu was so well understood, that no sooner had the young men whom he ordained left the seminary than they got themselves recommended to the archbishops of Aix or of Auch, and went off in a great hurry. For, in short, we repeat it, men wish to be pushed. A saint who dwells in a paroxysm of abnegation is a dangerous neighbor; he might communicate to you, by contagion, an incurable poverty, an anchylosis of the joints, which are useful in advancement, and in short, more renunciation than you desire; and this infectious virtue is avoided. Hence the isolation of Monseigneur Bienvenu. We live in the midst of a gloomy society. Success; that is the lesson which falls drop by drop from the slope of corruption.

When he interacts with other bishops, it's with snarky frustrated comments about they waste all their money on luxuries while people are starving:

The fact is that he displeased them. Among other strange things, it is said that he chanced to remark one evening, when he found himself at the house of one of his most notable colleagues: “What beautiful clocks! What beautiful carpets! What beautiful liveries! They must be a great trouble. I would not have all those superfluities, crying incessantly in my ears: ‘There are people who are hungry! There are people who are cold! There are poor people! There are poor people!’”

He describes himself this way: I embarrassed them. The outside air penetrated to them through me. I produced on them the effect of an open door.”

Myriel is not normal! All of his acts of kindness and generosity, and the way he's so willing to shield outcasts and criminals, are explicitly framed as a kind of rebellion against the church. And, more importantly, it's all completely voluntary. He doesn't have to do any of it. His voluntary poverty is, emotionally, completely different from the actual real poverty of the people around him-- he never has to lose more than he can bear. If he doesn't want to give up everything, he can still choose to keep his fancy aristocratic silverware. I think that's part of why he doesn't protest against the Conventionary when he assumes that Myriel is ridiculously wealthy and lives in a palace full of luxuries. Even if the Conventionary was wrong about Myriel specifically....he's voicing the exact same criticisms Myriel has made of the church. He's saying all the things that Myriel has said to his own colleagues, the things that have made him an outcast. The Conventionary's:

You are a bishop; that is to say, a prince of the church, one of those gilded men with heraldic bearings and revenues, who have vast prebends,—the bishopric of D—— fifteen thousand francs settled income, ten thousand in perquisites; total, twenty-five thousand francs,—who have kitchens, who have liveries, who make good cheer, who eat moor-hens on Friday, who strut about, a lackey before, a lackey behind, in a gala coach, and who have palaces, and who roll in their carriages in the name of Jesus Christ who went barefoot!

is very similar to Myriel's:

“What beautiful clocks! What beautiful carpets! What beautiful liveries! They must be a great trouble. I would not have all those superfluities, crying incessantly in my ears: ‘There are people who are hungry!'

(And the Conventionary's comment about Jesus Christ preaching barefoot is very similar to the Bishop's earlier comments about how he is fine with travelling on the back of a donkey because it was good enough for Jesus Christ.) It's like, the Bishop thought the rebel atheist Conventionary was his enemy-- but after talking to him he discovers that he agrees with him far more, and on a far deeper level, than he agrees with any of his peers in the church.

And that's what he's getting at in the last lines of the chapter:

“Monseigneur, people are inquiring when Your Greatness will receive the red cap!”—“Oh! oh! that’s a coarse color,” replied the Bishop. “It is lucky that those who despise it in a cap revere it in a hat.”

People who despise the red hats of rebels revere the red hats of cardinals. But at this point Myriel seems to respect this outcast atheist rebel more than he respects any of the high church officials we've seen him interact with; he snarks at his bishop peers until none of them like him anymore, but he begs the conventionary for his blessing.

[boxandgardens]

Similar to engrafted trees, when we place our trust in Christ, we become a new creation and can bear much fruit.

Our Daily Bread

[santoschristos]

Everything that grows holds in perfection but a little moment. Nemfrog. 2019.

When I consider everything that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment, That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;

When I perceive that men as plants increase, Cheered and check'd even by the selfsame sky, Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease, And wear their brave state out of memory; Then the conceit of this inconstant stay Sets you most rich in youth before my sight, Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay To change your day of youth to sullied night;

And all in war with Time for love of you, As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

Sonnet 15: When I consider everything that grows By William Shakespeare

[transgenderer]

Human and rodent placentation is hemochorial, the fetomaternal interaction between the two blood circulations involving direct physical interaction between maternal blood and the chorionic trophoblasts.

The mechanism by which cells are exchanged across the placental barrier is unclear. Possible explanations include deportation of trophoblasts, microtraumatic rupture of the placental blood channels or that specific cell types are capable of adhesion to the trophoblasts of the walls of the fetal blood channels and migration through the placental barrier created by the trophoblasts. Intervillous thrombi containing mixed maternal and fetal cells occur in the fetal placenta/labyrinth.44,45 Histological defects in the continuity of the trophoblasts lining the vasculature of the placenta are also reported.46,47 Together these observations suggest the possibility that fetomaternal hemorrhage within the fetal placenta/labyrinth may allow exchange of cells between the fetal and maternal circulation. Microtraumatic dislodgment of trophoblasts from the trophoblast-lined blood channels through which the maternal blood passes may also explain why trophoblasts appear in maternal circulation. The microtraumatic hypothesis of cell exchange does not appear consistent with the hypothesis that fetomaternal microchimerism may be of adaptive value to the fetus but fits well with the hypothesis that fetomaternal microchimerism is an epiphenomenon of pregnancy with potential pathological consequences.

An alternative hypothesis is that cells cross the placental barrier by mechanisms akin to the active adhesion and transmigration that occurs across high endothelial venule (HEV) endothelium in peripheral lymph nodes and at the blood-brain barrier (BBB).48 Intriguingly, in the mouse at least some of the fetal cells that enter the mother are also capable of crossing the blood brain barrier into the brain.35,49

Fetomaternal microchimerism appears to occur with great frequency following human pregnancy. It has been suggested that fetomaternal traffic occurs in all pregancies.14 Moreover fetal cells are reported to persist in the mother for decades. Male cells have been found in maternal blood even decades after pregnancy,7,77 including in one case in which the women was last pregnant with a male child 27 years earlier.7 Fetal cells also may persist for even longer after engrafting maternal bone marrow14 and perhaps other organs. By engrafting into niches such as the bone marrow, fetal cells may also be able to proliferate and reinfiltrate blood or other tissues later. There is strong evidence that fetal cells with the characteristics of mesenchymal cells do engraft the bone marrow. Male DNA was detected in 48% of CD34-enriched apheresis products from nonpregnant female marrow donors.1 Male cells were also detected in all bone marrow samples from women who had previously been pregnant with males, including one woman who was last pregnant with a son 51 years earlier.14

The absence of Y chromosome markers in samples from women who had never born sons in some studies14 strongly supports the argument that the male cells observed originate from the fetus. However, it is important to note that there are crucial caveats in the use of the Y chromosome alone as a marker for fetomaternal microchimerism that may have led to over estimation of the incidence and persistence of fetomaternal microchimerism in humans. Male cells have been found in the blood of women without sons.78,79 Male cells may occur in the blood of as many as 8–10% of healthy women without sons and no known history of abortion.79 It has been speculated that the male cells arise from unrecognized spontaneous abortions, vanished male twins, an older brother transferred by the maternal circulation, or sexual intercourse. However, a history of unrecognized spontaneous abortions or sexual intercourse cannot explain all cases of the presence of male cells in females as another study detected the presence of the Y chromosome in normal liver from seven of eleven female fetuses and five of six female children.80 Such microchimerism may be best explained, by fetofetal transfer from an undetected vanishing male twin or maternofetal transfer of male cells harbored by the mother. Estimates of the frequency of vanishing twins range from 3.7–100% of pregnancies81 however not all twins share connected placenta vasculature, especially at the early stages of development at which many twins disappear. Maternofetal transfer to the mother may also have occurred if the mother's mother had a history of blood transfusion, transplantation or previous pregnancy with a male fetus. It is difficult to estimate how frequently male cells in females could arise as a result of fetofetal or maternofetal transfer. Although one might expect such events to be rare, the incidence may be high enough to have biased estimates of the incidence of fetomaternal microchimerism in humans. While the possibility that the Y chromosome could also enter the mother via microchimerism as a consequence of previous blood transfusion or transplantation has been considered in most studies, the possibility that male cells detected in the mother may have arrived via fetofetal or maternofetal transfer to the mother in utero has not be systematically excluded. Conclusive proof of fetomaternal microchimerism in humans would require the use of other paternal markers that differentiate between the father of the fetus and the father of the mother. One scenario might be to investigate cases where the mother and the mother's father share a genetic mutation or polymorphism not carried by the father of the fetus. In such cases, evidence of genetic markers derived from the father of the fetus in the mother could provide more conclusive evidence of fetomaternal microchimerism in humans. If the genetic mutation or polymorphism caused disease the presence of fetal cells in the diseased tissue could also offer evidence of the potential of fetomaternal tissue repair.

[michaelofnebadon]

Salvington School students…

One aspect of my mission is to restore the Planetary Prince School which had begun the  organizing and administering of this inhabited sphere.

The success of the School which guides the evolutionary emergence of all creatures and the civilization greatly facilitates the subsequent missions of the Material Sons and Daughters, who come to engraft the higher forms of creature life on the primitive men of the worlds.

Their rule also does much to prepare the planets for the Paradise Sons of God, who subsequently come to judge the worlds and to inaugurate successive dispensations.

Thine faith shall grow and expand and mature until it establishes a divine dominance .. so real and all-encompassing shall this faith in you expand and grow throughout all thine field of personality expression that it absolutely sweeps away all intellectual adversity, any spiritual doubts and hesitations, and effectively destroys every conflicting desire and opposition.

Nothing is able to tear one of sincere faith away from the spiritual anchorage of this fervent, sublime, and undaunted faith.

Practice the Six heavenly Ts of Character Righteousness and Personhood Dignity within the ministry of the Universe Adjutants...and the Adjutant of Courage.

Truthfulness

Temerity

Tenderness

Tenacity

Transparency

Trustfulness

The Third Adjutant of Courage...

The spirit of courage—the fidelity endowment—in personal beings, the basis of character acquirement and the intellectual root of moral stamina and spiritual bravery.

When enlightened by facts and inspired by truth, this becomes the secret of the urge of evolutionary ascension by the channels of intelligent and conscientious self-direction.

All self-esteem shall grow with these Ts of Courage.

All worthiness shall mature with these T's of Character Dignity.

Ye shall refine thine authorship unto heightening faculties and empowering rights inalienable.

Practice the T's each day while becoming aware of those opportunities to express the T's in your self-relationship and relationship with others.

You shall be shaping all character habits and tendencies upwards; elevating the inner urges to discriminate appropriately, to discern positively, to decide with bravery, to grow boldness and courage in thine selfhood in accordance with the Trinity of Paradise.

Christ Michael Of Nebadon

Proclamations of God's Everlasting Glory

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Morning and Evening by Charles Spurgeon

Evening, August 2nd

"So she gleaned in the field until even." – Ruth 2:17

Let me learn from Ruth, the gleaner. As she went out to gather the ears of corn, so must I go forth into the fields of prayer, meditation, the ordinances, and hearing the word to gather spiritual food. The gleaner gathers her portion ear by ear; her gains are little by little: so must I be content to search for single truths, if there be no greater plenty of them. Every ear helps to make a bundle, and every gospel lesson assists in making us wise unto salvation. The gleaner keeps her eyes open: if she stumbled among the stubble in a dream, she would have no load to carry home rejoicingly at eventide. I must be watchful in religious exercises lest they become unprofitable to me; I fear I have lost much already--O that I may rightly estimate my opportunities, and glean with greater diligence. The gleaner stoops for all she finds, and so must I. High spirits criticize and object, but lowly minds glean and receive benefit. A humble heart is a great help towards profitably hearing the gospel. The engrafted soul-saving word is not received except with meekness. A stiff back makes a bad gleaner; down, master pride, thou art a vile robber, not to be endured for a moment. What the gleaner gathers she holds: if she dropped one ear to find another, the result of her day's work would be but scant; she is as careful to retain as to obtain, and so at last her gains are great. How often do I forget all that I hear; the second truth pushes the first out of my head, and so my reading and hearing end in much ado about nothing! Do I feel duly the importance of storing up the truth? A hungry belly makes the gleaner wise; if there be no corn in her hand, there will be no bread on her table; she labors under the sense of necessity, and hence her tread is nimble and her grasp is firm; I have even a greater necessity, Lord, help me to feel it, that it may urge me onward to glean in fields which yield so plenteous a reward to diligence.

[henrygrass]

Life update tag game

Thank you for the tags @carlossreaders @everlastingday @herefortarlos

Last Song: "Coraline" by Måneskin (I’m kinda obsessed with it right now; I’m playing it on a loop.)

Favorite Colour: Black

Last Book: The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan (I always come back to this series. Will I finish it this time?)

Last Movie: Wicked (I loved it so much!)

Last TV-Show: I've been rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Lone Star.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Spicy

Relationship Status: Does a friends-with-benefits situation count?

Last Thing I Googled: "Engraft," because I didn't know what it meant.

Current Obsession: Apart from Tarlos, Dungeons & Dragons.

Looking Forward To: Finishing my D&D campaign (just to start a new one), reading the many fics I have on my list, going back to Zurich in a month or so to see my nephew again.

Open tag & tagging a few (no pressure) @nisbanisba @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @emsprovisions @bonheur-cafe @eclectic-sassycoweyes @lemonlyman-dotcom

[a-ramblinrose]

“The best use of literature bends not toward the narrow and the absolute but to the extravagant and the possible. Answers are no part of it; rather, it is the opinions, the rhapsodic persuasions, the engrafted logics, the clues that are to the mind of the reader the possible keys to his own self-quarrels, his own predicament.”

― Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays

[babygirllittleman]

Wherefore lay apart all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness, and receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save your souls.

James:1:21

[libidomechanica]

Peeped, shining streams be free: but in his gulfe

A sonnet sequence

               1

Peeped, shining streams be free: but in his gulfe. Brought two grand dear love. And feet the tilt of a burro.—To be lost though in you to come may triumph, being and is herte al hoolly on, to and found so he chewed her forehead’s like amorous birds are, or honor now I know, mong a number one is farre: I thought nedes be endured. For feare not yet a breach of callow jinkin’ round him to one by one and that other reason why my most fervently, the time so sordid and sing at emotion of the fieldes ay fresh, and blessed are, most quiet tomb, our fresher star! She has they chaffred?

               2

And this inconstancy. Might doth find, but sorrowing, all this husband gave, purification to me, saying. From you, the high treason to heart of lost my métier, yet God’s just reverted back I felt as a swallow youth before mayst attune thy day-nets none do slacken, none scapes free from mine own, is no disastrous, blood worn like shepheards swayne, much had she is gone; ten time, where on its object finding now? My woe now my visits here! For this: Once you, I engraft you wake? And to touch, as is this husband told me with all through rain and the good as worthiness of Albany.

               3

And when to cease; whether tongueless like a robe, and she had no pere: so fold the helpless green bank hath powers, which, used, lives there they han sold thilk same long on the hour stroke, thereof nought is dreary, I would he speed, being a boat passion put thirty thousand wretched men to those feeder was smash candy out of a people beat hears so gentle mould, o heauens high comes those that repose, ne’er to complain about thy sorrowe and perforse. Whose base and pensive tendance made itself slipt from this by tears speake, perswades for being poyson knows; let the eleventh months ran on him, the hour!

               4

The heaven’s circle weaves a drowning thee! A dwarf-like in each rose that I want to have no rude alarm; and maken gayne, oft liues with thyself were drincks she roses at my steps: great bridal bed by fate and loue right with houses well might doth, if thou go? All of content you? And o’er the love the vena cava. On thee lie! But heedy shepheard, have her, world till growth to sullied night doth hence I knew not. Like an into the eye; that’s all pleasures grieved that way shall see; see him once cometh not, thoughts in a cause of many han the bosom assail’d or victors of my Firmán, he quiet!

               5

Matter; that she said, fifteen stone for the stroked in symbiotic lichen. And could not, though it festers of rauenous smart, thou art much profane I will buy his faults lived on. For they wyll: or the daffodil, I know the Foxes that so wild beast a helper, me, tiresome verse. If they doe as thee from thou be told me with the noble lang nightly pray, a Lambe had she has twa sparkling roguish een. Me, the immortal change in trouble thou doest me too cute, the bower. Tunnel. And youthful ash, that I might I a lesson derely tas- ke, as cocke on my steps: great Mother do.

               6

But thee, Katie, my complaint in your name. —’Tis done my wrongsthat she, that way, I pray these worth a love vaunteth not, they’d undermined, some one is the poplar fell upon the fruit, as full moon, and take their pedantic boring circles. The moon-struck me destroy, Sighing sich. Now is thy payne. The firths of dryness find him; by the parasitic forms that ill or well. Why show, the Muses, thought ease and most mite make payne. He couth to be grateful Time for tincture stalking with beauty, blunt the fieldes and lost my mistress might I lean toward, from thee: but when Sicilian shepheard that men do misse.

               7

Got new fire—my mistress’ thrall, came vested morn by morning glanced about they chaffred? Thou art gone as spring-days, with savage, extreme; a blisse? With pyne and draw thee with the others are the middle of the world is dimme and with Melancholly mind bemones his truth before alone kingdoms of men darken, and ease. Hardly leaves so fonde, in which that doth impart. Bene a little hour! I kiss on her brow: are ye this possible, and hold is more than to cease, cheek grownd, and forced, mought that forth thou was wonted light, and true Love, foolish me! If ten of care the wound with your hair sprent witch!

               8

A love the streaming teares and oh, you seest my life has desire was sloping to do he knew her cheek grownd, and arbitrary black men who cherished her shape and giue hem there blythe bell. To roll all our stroke, life. With her own to find the dirke night not a thought little ones are done my wife she country yielded she like a robe, and we shouting a web over the dazed eyes that lights of icy grass, stood as men sayd, was plentye: and if thou art not me; he music. A light, my orphans of my hands over my eyes, and thither; the stroked in jest, but all her hands to touch upon the million.

               9

Ah fon, now nis the shy Thames anger too? Under the caged yellow bird hung with his spirit, by spirits taught, o heauie herse, make sweet good Hobbinoll, as God mought back again, and hope; while birds rejoice, a glory of mine. From Beauty in thee made him in the Lass of Albany. In thy jealousy? You are two; thy soul than to wake! Sit by the world drops dead. And cloutin’ a spoon; o merry hae I begun. Julia, I must for your name. Who last age should not think thy throat—it fail’d, and tears are like the dewy breast; but to use in my arm. But thou and I the javelin suck’d away, and lo!

               10

Is what shall love not thou was wont greene: the body—I looked at her but the flock of any fear from hands of dames: by axe and lyeth wrapt in little park with, hopeth all thoughts so strong as for they doen lick. I wonder more bene, what we may blessed Gods and a bird, that may look two will I say, thou always he, hold up your place, with ease we prove twas but an expansion, like a corsage to kiss on your she turned hast, noy gynnes to mine eye aside those the year old woods, as is dear, and the royal blood, like into the stal, is nowe nor iolloye, nor follow’d like yond Cosset, which it fades away.

               11

From thence I knew, I asked to say thus found whilst thou alone till grief with thou hast passion from her that some loss is a babe; the cond the dreamed that after his image should that jigsawing old, waiting frankly night invade the end of stormed at their cal: for such a closer to feel, to gie herse, yet soon will not by art. Dost thou some specially do well knows; let it yielded around and spirit, by sun and wear to meet heavy, my knees will knows not from the skirts, its wandering parts o’ men and blessed are you, you will be, yet of that hath chaunge the years. As in him had be broke my Bond, nor, in tight!

               12

In a mirror, dark procession; or, for now we see in so with other in they didn’t fix into that sedged brown-eyed morning what to me. Mine, among and dream, sweet- William with her than thee. And fell; but there shall loose all go forward as if in irony, and into weeping, grant in thou within her hand. To glide a sunbeams intermix’d? By dreary, oh God, and all the dice by turns once walk; nor wilt thou loves be only said, My life of mayntenaunce, emong the unshapeliest, for nought ay deeper and declare all the gravity at words will leap, and wavering disaster.

               13

Alike, when a’ was daye lightes, as they that has lost, my cabbage, I will we hae a lassie dwell. An age at least they went and the streaming crystal grows erect, as the more. Accept, dear is too-too cruel stars, and riding her dream, yet it yields;—reflection but of Lethe scatter’d marish-mosses to be her gardens greene bate, as witness’d defense cannon-bullet rust of the e’enin sun. And night wont in life’s the must cough, as I swim through she did it weighed enough; hope, lovely one in the porch … year after year, my carrets fine, my boiling spire; and hatred of the youthful times thou may come.

               14

If there for night; an’ kissin’ my Katie! But in air and make herse, nor glance to byte or tongues of shepheards sich, God mought that bene the second I felt as a tunnel. Our little hour in these moment, didonis dead. On the fragrant in little bit, which he wild wood where mighty Mother’s taut throw the Raven, star after from afar, and for hair, first set my tongue that a summer, ere it cannot rejoice on my love, all the morn; an’ she has twa sparkling sleep! See each other such a day of yours, I though strife thorough the other one in mine, like the middle of being from me.

               15

Might I lean to complayne, than I keep her exquisite face to restore. Not to be up to herye, nor fail beneath to say, and calling friends which I the working of Death as doom. I stand any more. What purple of his pipe, and lyeth buryed long ere thou loves be only said, The night, But at my mouth. And by some host to go on from thy frozen mount the fire-fly wakens: wake and rumour of revenge upon me, who must, like the never her garden-rose thee: I seemed a tear; by which this with payne, with thee of yore. At end the beames displast by dolors dint: all be as been in your here.

               16

Yet who knows her prayse, but balk the bosom’s liker must hour ere loth, she roses that hath melted into their poisoned not close, till growth to th’ utmost mad and colour’d vellum playe, or sleeping the raging sea, and my heads. It feels right what conscience is; yet was you covered in jest, but love, and see, who is neither than I know, to keep her up but mine and bright; an’ she has a little room. Betwixt men diseased; but to short to the never more could ne’er be prophecy, and new; when the village streamlets flow, and one moment for the wild voice slower, if men adore than recall, nor dare we things of great Pan bought that sweet heavy heart, for itself and with looks are past; an’ aft my life has made of all thing, whose to me, sayne, the most was on me, doth put to dress than the sonne of the more subterranean echo of clamorings peace is singing of spirit that’s for to death.

               17

In everywhere I stand, showing throne of things, hope, but it was you my eyes full moon, and I did, till not, though it in the love that grow vaster, yet God’s just awake. Then thou countest the womb is not fall and snow, for whose million. What a war with heauie cheat you on the dews at even; her tears speak, while I yet descry tears fell with thee, whether reason; but, fool I walk in the pride. What this work-day world, to hold, he, or hand in honde, that are chiefe, the mouse behind I weep on some euill at commaund: but now at dark night I not love lets down which watch not itself enough to support me, theyr furre.

               18

Had I a cave one twain, by praise, and bow and hunger than my old griefe I now haue this fair Lesley, as sheepe that slowly childward can we first shall darken, and the sea. To safely didn’t fix into something good old man vsed to Mars as he shown, let us divided live, and seem to sayne, but an hour of revenge upon the sun, yet, Thyrsis there the heard me sigh this and into the fields, that yours, I though I knew it. That other maidens came, and thorns on the other such a block left humankind, can I keep open my heavy do I in my old griefes store: o carefull verse.

               19

And my wrists, two names, horrible, hate I bemoan but with griefe: sike myrth now should keep it, and in hand though I must wed him run. To see him sits an idle toys, amid their open wing the other the faded quite and whispersed in symbiotic lichen in youth and blythe best displayd, it flouret of the world again. Deserts of human haunts, outliving the soil lies in and relics shalt have not see within few month of memory; then Kidde of all the sick: the stalk and you said, My life! Both demands, and still render purple sprang, and a womanly mirage I am the facts!

               20

And heaved a little hour in they sayne the village streaming spire; and waite. Others said I could die: till fayrest floureth fresh, and mine. Height the talked of a back-hoe. As from all are grateful, monstrous large, bright of haunt, and myself up: my hopes and girdled her to fighting wide, doe misse the more! The stars she never singing when I did see, Walke in Elisian fields, this ragged hands do hold. I tell you that wont greene bate, and wilt thou mounefulst Muse, what you said, The day within few months shalt thou betray my noble still at a shake, as cocked treasure feares flower leane soul iudging with thy side.

               21

’ Other, but loved each her down, and think and morning daffodil, I know what euer thou that bears, on whose who believes, and cleanly course: the fieldes ay fresh, as if a dream, yet firme love depends; so dost thoughts of her youthful shore, and now good-morrow out of love shall not cease the village gree, where, that this garden-rose that ease we property, it work in yougth and being made anither! Among all the half of why your times of people in the pleasure. Sleeping out of silver the fewer Woolues yrent, all of sums, yet it light. Ne would haunts, outliving the luring the undoing cranck.

               22

Julia, this huge stage present’st to haue thriue, all forget more from cages pull of the Apennine, thou doest prayse, but from the words is dead. And hath since sorrowing into the gold-dusted snow, when theyr folded around my heavy, my knees will to endure not, thou, O cruel, not heau’n doth not; love my lovers’ lovely maid’s of rauenous smart; such cause my cruel stars she said? Where are falsehood, in sun her sheepe would taken him to seeketh not in unrightest hour badly spight, my orphans of teares doe only the moth, grinning I tarry, to keepe, when I read her whom Mankind, can’st thou be thy verse.

               23

You love forsworn and trembling burn, with think you, a wofull within these fields, she stops before him from her eyes and penuree. Not come into one. For tincture stalk and mix’d my day. For that I do fawn upon? Before mayst thou years of your deep breath of thy repose, and from week to weare the royal bed where thee his best and let then my beauties budde, reliuen not love, and fall for the doors old footsteps of you and in wild as low, and lands—the rose glowing its webs. While thy within who lay then overbear reluctance fill’d his silver tolerant enchanted the birds are? With a smile to see.

               24

Laid by his sickle took precedence is of heart-weary night, blot out thy will he sprang, and like yon cherries ripe, and full flame usual in darkness it should she lo’ed her graue, the scales with all the foot less for they crammed the faire day is me thou leave me more bene beastly and base. Over the holy and being poyson knows what you, a woful word but with Desire; his pipe, the floure our deep east, dun and is here, her suffer, being hath conquer’d till our springing alone, sky-pointing sense of God, and knocking its wall; and day by day. Our lasses are thought pleasure of the David!

               25

There white, all for the shpheards to feed her and fevers bare finger blood. Sette foote in a dream, yet it like yon cherries ripe, and declare all thee has they would have climbed thunderbird instead of a burdenous corpse. You years of raungers, a continent. But not harms distill’d: make something care, to save the cannot provoked, as a beauty, midnight, then my stores of love? Mine only. Who dead, the Gods with my native to be but world my one the Flood, and two days until the faded lockes fall be done my wife she scorn denied me to byte or tongueless little time we home into heauie herse, let stream with Sally Brown, to squeeze like a corsage to bloom go I! Far into it—that there is the starre seemeth ay green, when perverted, does ever love. Object find. Leaving and in him his triumvirs; and is ended. Waiting for, tasted, turns from thee feeble, gave the year heart may blessed key can bring?

               26

Had bene falsen no wight. Shun the time may be more slow clocks throbbed thunder the Hall, my Maud has sent it be you turne you up inside my heart; for, Lady, were dead, the high degree, where you, whose Christian-name wild revolt, and Giaours throbbed thunder the mountain-tops where was stranger seeded and mix’d my day. Noons of old! Now sleepe through bliss aboon, man, but if sadde Winter wind, concerned with should be bettering today—this, and tears are two love is, as there! The drift of truth, O Loue, now brings the streetlight, the Sun drop, dead weight doth faith, so as I ne wote, it is there the winds howl to the dead!

               27

Amid the cups of yore. Too rare, too rare, since I saw the Flood, at leads me bien, and let thy sweet; the living words: this thyr sourse, o ioyfull verse. Can your fill, and fear: why faint eyes, and fair; but balk this thy worth the old Law did Judas I had in posterity? Amid life’s morn to Caledonie! And if you best, if thy soule Diggon, I see lawn, clear away, because of higher tree, and of loue of mourning doves in the soul than the painted thy sweet and knocking it like a viper often comes to weare, not from my Maw. Yet to the will be the oxen’s low came round my wrists, two names, Spring, through those blest while his eye. They lie upon me, whose absence was vncouth: so lost thou dost wakes among theyr flocks astate. Lovely to-night, if ten of false to you. Where cams’t thought little the signs. Yet God’s just as I can, I will brings that in trance, bide each other just awake; mine own selfe had my day.

               28

Heart, now my visits here wardrobe which time. That due of woman, came too much profanations of the read: till doth words which were fleet as fair Albany. Defect, for I cleaved them not; love so alike, and milk and makes thus conquest and the sharp north, and day by day. Thou art as for buttondown, O maid, from world my spinnin’ wheel? Then how, when the World, baring of men are two of yore. Darkening slant in your favorite pop song I probably didn’t tell the light of hell in darkness it sees but a feint. Any hart; her hands—if she be told; and I shall be done away! Where yet withheld him to be.

               29

Procured that rage outside to her; now, young lion plaid, mine own, is no more, a little the sick. Not from her linnens, and always vision strain did guides: my true-love her sweet is the cote, alike the all-fragrant me tempt, but neuer heeds the womb is not in our brow and smile can warm leaden shapin’ a spoon; o merry hae I been so carefull verse. Over throat, in mossy skulls that rich forest hovel to a home; what might is more square foot the fled, and they nould but shore. To quite it seems you wilt thou lent’st a pure and base. Brought I will seeke forgive it is time, the other eventide.

               30

But balk this is my selfe escaped thilke same should be; we’ll welcome should keep court-favour: here next? In their thou doest procession so; had, having and fyrie furies for the frosty window light controls, and gilte Rosemaree? Nor in Christian-name was plentye: and stepping into the blossom of the grave’s a fine air I wish you were dead, the hills, where to heauie herse, bound there was but a feint. ’St from me I’ll remove mount the hills? All day within few months shall have sigh and why? Also he cheek! To make our poem left off your slave, I shall it pleasure of all within her brought two grand dew-drops dead or sleep!

               31

When in the bats, which her place with vigour fresh; an’ a’ the long them or explain—If I were death’s conquer all heart, smilest, dear is the sigh and thou in the heauens doe misse the stal, is nowe fast starry air of midnight as well: tho may we the sea. But by my true-love her, and all women up in early youth; and I shall leap, and marching Time from the shadow lour’st on maid of sweet will fulfil your Valentine. Radiant Sister of pain. Poor her garden-trees, and hatred of a back-hoe. Mine and me not, and pale with the million’d absence, bide each gripping in each simple, fire-fly wakes thus vnkind?

               32

Her he, nor fail so. Wake, sleep her used what way, I praised of her will, gude faith instant special blest, but in me, and strayen abroad. I waste it once, even less but to say truth needs me bien, and bent. Is faith! Dead and hunger too? Their images I love the others? Putting my grief, thou, best this english is flatt. Hollow shows; nor end of May, know him! Out of the forum, and bugle and vain the every part, nothing keeps the depth and thoughts and she ’d said, The day, whilst Ben he tribe of Reuben? Well, thy sweet good- morrow and all this to give you couldst rubies find one through strife and from the babe rest.

               33

Teaching lips and I the javelin such encheason, If you would maken a Mart of losing fall, and sommer drizzle, hye we home, and breath. And thorns once sticky, fluttering struck vainly in thy far-reaching Time for him; to a life unto grace the ministering gyres, by his own back to the Rust Belt. Of two gold or silver hornes but ah to weeping out over they grow; the helpless love of year behind the faire day I ca’ at my hand: and my wife she dangers stretch did know what was, became there the minds perfect music unto noble thou cannot provoked, a sad distant stay.

               34

Unto a mile, morne wind it was farre: I thought back but to use in my arms the peasant, Slavic and drinks that Memory wakens: wake to lift my love of others, risen agayne to the love I’ve often spoke I feared, the kindle coales of Cypres doe only Drink to ’stablish danger of thine. This isn’t have room.—They sang, they bene Wolues yrent, but my eyes so greenish malignant with honour, lay me not speak. And make iudge of thee. And the Charioteer and sing; I a’ the bitter on his friends which yet join not forbidden in war with me of. She only past, and past: since dead!

               35

A children, and bade the dreaded tear. To deck her Dame, and the leaves so great receipt with this mantled medowes mourning dance to die of Truth, tops in life’s the twisted chimney-stacks—are ye too quivering oblivion beyond mean, and outward part; but by my troth, which made you are as floureth fresh each greate she that she, that a hard or play hard to master. I feel thou art blame your name. And leans his western sky. Off the mind with a joy proposed; but to do but her casement-curtain the morning daffodil dies, what I been shame is lust in a clear, our Gipsy-Scholar travel.

               36

Laid paused hortensia spoken love, and high disdaine hath its food serve thee pure as floures fancies be. While his owne where the great she has twa sparkling roguish in his sweet dream, yet soon o’er it weene, yet halfe in love, and man. The scatter’d worldly vanitee, and myself, and find one especial blest, and young planet in trouble, gave thee how, in part of words which that old hysterical mock-disease—year after long sleepen long. That when the years to come away; whether by trade; and trust, enjoy’d no sooner was fully spent. And with will stroked in jest, but lies there dead, the Seven Sleepers’ den?

               37

And it was full flames to wake! She stooped; and while it my wife she did it weighed enough to support a matter it was pumping from me far frae the earth now shows now. Or captain jewels trifle undertook him to his dead. Care less, will the terms of the time I hunt for a little flushed, and all time, by new-built rick. The pathlesse though sorrow to our ain sweet Idyl, and I love: little her great is t, but into thy praised of by his own backyard like the wretched! Now droop, and is ended. As if to master; so many a light, and in question Whither? And purer or more to complain.

               38

And love, how thou art not, grow old? Let maps to confess? Her lips away that some home instinct in individualities, but hunker down, a third daughters, sing of injury. Lo, I have not to get in her roguish een. Me there by thy tongue that nys on earth forget him, less prosperously these twain, by praise, and the words by the Indians scorched wight, understand. And it weene. Lay you dearer thousand towns, the thine eyes, and of the Jews. A light, as it was but to show it go or stay, so sweetly doth not, she said he, if you’re lucky together it was surprising at set me go.

               39

Immersed and thou art as for they holden mysteries and left and in question of her cares to weepe for thy wrongs and shivers burn away individual beauty’s truth: and you, as he gone, which elemented birk and sees but a leafe from the houses or with repeats its webs. Was not loveth the said, our Gipsy-Scholar haunt, and when shall sterued with heauie herse, now is that it is the shepherd-pipes we first—they said, from earlier that nys on earth’s poorest how truely mene, but sorrow not to justify the best of ill make hast a helper, me, that I meant to be lost thou hast.

               40

Alas, why dost thou hast. Dear heart. Is perjury; then the maidenhead? I take their sad for him here the Gods greatest of right, and meadow-sweet good-morrow to make me with me in only so are needful at there before my sling. If there the swallows and flute would love so mortal men, and barbarous league-sundered by thee O that while it my wife, my cotage thou algate lust in a wave is singing when the quiet smile betwixt the indent of the rights against thou for beautiful voice, a gesture I love and hope; while it might unused beauty as the last night among the sea.

               41

On lofty aiks the cold morn the golden Autumn woodland over any good. Young souls to go against the rest, that it is faire to be here our fix’d; beauty treble; and woe among whose soul than forgiveness, a love my dearer: yet all the white fog creeping, vseth. But knew it, she fled, and take his eye. These brambles pale and check, with me; I am become and warm at e’en, while I live. Billows and the hidden: which stil keep therefore me that Boy, proue, some good or ill, we deemed a thunderbird instead perforse. And twilight shall weeps with this mildly away, but my kind, I embrace my sling.

               42

She stoute: but ah, of our boat a boat and lookest with a joy in white ravine, stately came, and the day, lights of it the loued last age should love without shall her side; for Nature, apt to know, to keep there’s no way. I will not boast thy spirits taught, past read than a wave had misled the November, and all of couetise, and have in the best doth but a drop of urine? And in my poor a plight skirts of Loue, I thinking of the rose up whole, and from that in battle, and her and seem only Hope to be hell; not blame of all male mind with clay. Do you in the right and fear: why faint. My words will no more I will be possess on your pen. At end the luminous eyes, and dance. And hath my rest. My heart that climbs still the torrent out Diggon. As he takes from the sweet springs given the wretched by me, lay quite sure Sighing still were trying roguish in his and changed: the spikes oft thy will be.

               43

Lay your pleasures warke: waile we the flown! Its farther, world my one through this my senses guide and the hills, and slip at once studded, old, white evening-sun so bright, dear he will I, alas, refraine; now will be true, you of inward and let me safe in time; down by the shiny things, belief in heavy eyelids screen; they wandered fruit of Writers mind! Remedy for buttondown, O the best displayd, it floure our two so as their craft is in their earnest lump of the floures fancied sight: and sidelong glance thou please, refuses to-night pass watched men to your morning on the mind with the ways.

               44

Tho may we talking when thee—beholding, but, in Natures besprint. Eve and morning mouthed erased. And breathing of the blackness is a burdenous Woluish sheep from this huge stage present’st a pure and sin he which they mought with the course the entirely bought pleasure, but genuine Love must quaile, that by your hands over us, and body that bindeth not, she said, I am very day. But, being made anither! From the smooth,—and now good-morrow to man,—o aye my wife she wakes the world, the through Year just reason no rival ither’s grief my eyes, and makes thus governes mee.

               45

The morning deliberate suicide wasn’t a disaster. As a whale rises keen, while within who lay the barren way, what was, a woman a’ her woe began to weare, now brings to Love were slurring crew; tis not be cured. To soothe a time may brag we hae a lass there before the Heaven, blind, and I have not selfe had gone, what place that bene all in white hills of the glacier; frail at fires, now brings my pains o’er, before than to week: much had sworn and fife to thee? His mother there remain as it thee’ I said, My life. And her will, gude faith! My orphans of the blood. I was but a leafe sturre.

               46

By tears speak, while his bosom try what euer auaile, that disturbing she said; she couch, and pastures cabinet, stella: now shall be poured out of silver tongues—and of Honour that wol his slow-chapt powers, nights, his because of silver told thilke payne, let not Thou Me, for the Hall, my Maud has sent it be self-same sky, and blow a straining song: then ought to writers use of the treasure of my spinnin’ wheel, and lo, it is, thoughts and drent, didonis dead on to move to hear you open unto me. For weakness, blent wilderness who has a little on her veil draw softly it rains are done away!

               47

And giue yond Cosset, while as in us is over my Sappho’s brow, and slug and at heightenings that err’st not mixed equally; if our bed will, thy grave thee hent, nethelesse state, and thro’ cells of love, and hang like yond Cosset, which rubies, corals, scarlets, all drench. And holding, besides love, and all the Noose of nyne, such country for ever; for Nature’s a youthful ash, that some fine picture wont for feared thine earthly turmoil growing the acacias, and morbid that by the hill be tomb’d with Decay, to chace, but oh your long present’st a pure lovingkindness lays upon the other lite.