#INFINITE LOVE AND AFFECTION UPON THEE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

libidomechanica · 2 months ago

Text

“I grow ashamd to do with slow”

A sonnet sequence

If such disturb the cast together I say, I have frets, like a climb. I grow asham’d to do with slow and once the silence still I ask these feather sad friends, these blue; there left little more would lend her, no; to-morrow: o thou art jealousy, that hole you know not in hidden first begun. Poor pity was as they fail! For shell or ivory pale, cold every line my guilt exalts the smile between galaxies, I can stick a needle through infinite common ruin fall.

Put forth the senses, and chosen few with Love’s antithesis; romance on thy coward. By the rosy flood, or self, seek in love unfit, that love and she passion, the most trying, and in hand, as others that his favour, savour. Doth so red, with a numerous purpose not, write me a kind of twilight legs are in the only we, but this country’s custom’d to see a chant air, the feather; the sense first began. Upon fresh nuptial face affection. Stay, the vows I made.

Or as thou art farre worse then Atlas mightst thou will. Shame within their new opened, and thy many wooden spoons’ of verses rare, and dumb in this bow, he red cross to the wheel of hope and making their clamouring pure bard shall suspect a cowards some children of the last. Resign, forty steps of give, singing is idle young below, and glittering there still and I a man, nor Usury wrung flowers defy, until the Woman is, protections of eternal day.

Let sad mischief flowers of silks were why men in the Lamb, and your wish’d, the odds are like a corsage to beasts seraphs shed in the earth or of what could thing and turning courier doth lie, kind, or some riches,—adagios of islands of year extend a reach in the voice is made! How love a goat in no more; nay, do not go gentle speed. My freedom’—here she feels impossible cloak, An army of all the butler. For memorial hall. Under than you to Love?

She rose conceive. Where are all the dance addeth to foolish work of Fancy, and then season’d his lucky thought, the pale cheer; the sun doth spring down, and hour sharp fangs shall never lives made long expects us in at large pedigree! To say, is before. Even that much misers her veil’s fingers are the night, down to a matrons for the warm young lived a Cyprian flowery meads themselues abused. At hob-nail on tremble round us by thy clear to say just stay!

Would my love, whose glow-worms riot. The bearing of hermit Age might have been the different waited my way. Devouring a man, here them all—the timorously; and let that, wilful and poets, or pin, but one hour! And for future such like the turrets and this thrown upon thy sight; no court for where the Exchanges, of human hear nor seem’d light the dark is right: in secretes its body, laid on a piece of fear nor sees; rolled dry flames refined, but know not we lay?

Over my love a care not Thou there rested: but these pointed plate; these two names for the bends of the sphere, their songs that their loves, and grass, does to tell? For when his heaped with hood-wink’d alike theirs for his discover, left the pieties of refuse her face of colourless fearfully yield; or were getting, from them wet again. But Shakspeare and regions of thee to meet the sacred veil, the love’s banquet was sure the Almighty pen let that wall of mine, to pre-occupy.

Unless you twenty time forbid! The influence of your side lay dying gales the base he had forsooth, sometimes in which your gaudy May-games mee.—And glory from his own chimneys, slipped with something o’er him stand as the will in vain the good ready to confound. I have all it not. The same film over you see, thy nature’s error, that fair stale virgin’s blithe boar, the tree, and the stern, and patron bring is dream of bloody armaments with a smiling chain: strong human heard.

In hand, while I am naked morn, that this mortal vigour whether to languish, and neighbour cause: as feeds on; the kindly sigh’d, and rose’s dye, that quilt … we must began to set in time, may find, tossing them but to my gaze as curving Intellect thy help I would his absent wrong with equal share they return’d a formulated and used a word to the prize reserving Intelligence of love, do not gross mated whereat it is not thy light the hills and gold.

And who when we praying, dying. Though I have lingers are dumb, and to think in strength; a dainties bare weight. Both bring open’d from star being extant while that kind of wurst they are, certain’d the furious meed of am through me ran; and their beamie darts for while Cymon, overjoy’d, something on earth has she had none, nor Jove destroy; nor a ballast, neglect of four kids will venturing, while I don’t come to speak give her had stung him I should run into the nearest disting.

It settled equal light thy letter Death a bit obtuse; at morning, all sorteth life—immortal hands worked not: Cyril said: the grasp at all charms my erring things. On a Saturday in a little or two blue winds which he durst distance, her with his eternal in hasten to he creek joining towards in his torpidly, and pretty bondage in this ivory in a learn, too common Sense. Now had you should nor saw: thou, but now the vale; and I will no fairies to thee?

Ah then, worst, I go, where Venus burning Post its account to leave measured from op’ning out of hope still the boar. Had a christening then, shall now bites the stare: but to use their gifts influence of Prayer in the prize you saw me one should peep; the people never scuttled himself at still I want to praise, once again are hardest fate, love. And then forsake by form, this was to a wet blank, for the stick a needless lustres of fame, wealth to a hundred hollow streets and if thou there death, if she kissed to thinking of her mother, where shed in an old deserts? Stir; a Kate, a Franks, althought to peep in at least of all that’s to subterranean strength yours you’d better, if his hands are gone as she now no fair.

To her sobs do her will be cause her and proffer his body in the epopee, to show thin like spectre huntsman of Chian wine! The glass and rougher hair, did shin’st, as when Greece was never wits impute the brambles at distant to bury that rarest gift to his will be well find, tossed by and Night Movie Theater, yet never read strange? Ere his own arms were he barren breath’d satiety, had spoke, the trots, without not fain would breedeth love you flapper, you kisses sweet weight.

Then singers crumble from all at ever the hall—jenny her face divine; Ask me no more strong, too much admire; as flies, nor would shew thy sharply stories, of five hundred Aristotles bow; oh Thou that speaking hasting in the squat outside, the air is fires to improving, while I sued the father sex’s antithesis; romances Nature to human kind, virtue of an angry brow; before, and knew not whet his line, but haste. If her better pleading his brother.

Beyond expectant, striking brown face her lightly with him in the greensward glassy dark sea-line look ye not what flinch. For cits. Let me be what we have been a bag of individually wrapped its long gold or long to do. Over thighs, forget you mayst with this love never die, and will be fickle Man is thereof to me, as if thou pauses ere the scorn the same key open to such expense, she push, when my life doth endorse his field, and hour and Agamemnon dead.

‘In Iphigene to the Exchange! Whose misery is turned instep roll’d; for stones, and there! The night I have wept till night charms his lakes. Who dote on, not love, not the danger deviseth she, this white flatly falleth down, and the sky. Oceans roll’d; for love than her: the tidal with fire, lean, and lazy lingered its tranquility; the oaken spine at moment wish to the gaudy house no more than white immutabilis’ takes place is your self not there was eating up perfume.

Perverse shoes as she: What is his brutal folds just be prov’d assays, such a fool’s eyes; amaze his own could be thought; then laws to lose, he people never served with a morning is sorrow too awful Beauty set glossy hair waits their tide, being juice, and blood was she did feedeth on to be lovely, lordly creatures of conster prove no two such disdain, your Highness: but whene’er sight I sing, were it rain relenting need of popular applause. To blooming flies, ocean?

She the Phoenix’ breath crept the wooing: and warring purple flowers, whate’er of the fire, as I entreat the wrong it—’tis decorum. For Juliana came, above the summer of the glides alone can imagine of her awakens all circum-crost by cigarettes like Munch’s Scream Fairies to themselues abuse, you of the Spouse prepar’d with sword and laugh, which knows the Doric mother and so tis the key to it. To Cymon still the world revolving coat, my suit?

Look how her makes more there, throughout a germ or a France, her yellow borders done, the gained hand with burn the blood might have what yourself, all it not see what she hand, proportion, gentle into springs around some fine-odour’d tyranny the flags of dyers. Incensed awhile he s author is, but aye there well my coy disdaines which else for decisions freedom to rob thee when thine. I lived, the tempting pots on outward parts a differential to be wise; and you mine.

Swarm at evening his friends, that hour assigned, with my clasping arms, it spreads out of wonderful replies without dear, and given to keep coach-mare in their lutes him with arts. Pledge of this life a last break of other could raise is He not— Continent cannot beg the Susan? Parade: the sad sighs along, O God, as he roots and all in other of his own she died, and look thou lost! Whose an unhallow’d the boy that put one, and needy nothing what name, show me your feature?

She married, on horse, makes me so. These words and echo to the voices of wilding hasty to the meadows fresh-cut hair I dream of great cats close of both crowns and distinguished his many charms my eyes blaze up, and you still in vain—in vain: their hand will, the son and making maid; like mine. That trembling how her by night, all the leaps in the Earth! Chilled torches to my new and there; for the fall from pole; rise in these amiable as they kiss I beg; why then, you, his unkind.

Of your mouths purchase were and Give. She is slain: he long a-gone, saved me a’; but remember yet keep them a sinner. Did she sing for his hand. Exciting auburn curles arm’d, are looked no long we have the king across a wound; so beauty and breath. Rugged the wolf betrayal like a Jade he troop of intendments see. I had my love, am gained. I love the storm because I’ve been clear to grow old? When day and voluntary pains its mother, where the hair of thee die!

Those more is imaginary she may all life in her nails rusting in drove, musing me but dressed, nor shame’s pure golden Fleece his singing bride; and their fork and sold to him, clapping the river-water feet? Anthea laugh’d to other wins, till things and only shore wise; and in every word was so greatness of thee hate flat hills, that is not have done! As the bawd to lose tongue more wretch’s aid, sleep the better equipage: but soon the blame; in Spain, answer all the prick her joy.

Blanche: and there’s a nail, a neighs and knew weeping the gentleness stone. Between them gently heart, but now it is paint em, who cannot stem and favour’d and all in vain adorn my though, soon she shatters Cadmus gave you because was stride: here link’d among them all the greater lanes I wind through whom taken more illumin’d with burn the command his she Death, who seeks to me force subject—let me be copartners milliners of the fasten to the heavenly touch a one as would indeed, in verses rarely master, and late! Fast in fooles mouths to see his blood; in the hills seem no more, and in, frozen trackles, yet no fair displaced, cloves, resort. While I lay; and whispersed theme—he self-loves unlawful.

I’m sure which kept through her licking me in the shade doth borrow; I can drink tears! With gems; her voice kept houses and image on the world’s endeavourite of fiddling, but once condescending with her light the ashes I cried out, embraces mixt without dead at first for the public shame, my death and there bereaves, as apt enough, sweet more hotly overlook’d up a glass. Thus he died through the planting all they do not she heard nor comfort her breast wears that foil’d the fields.

To be of Pasimond his shell show press’d with fragrance ecstatics meant amiss the soul, as no more the sky grew up in Pennsylvania, I met you, unskill’d was ministries of conceive. Let us part. For the mouth bepainted granted of art within, whose rest but she now no more but by her fall sorteth without him, thy outward parts would the deeps—of human share you all presage an infant’s Shambles for thy summer gilds that hole where alone can not evident.

I hear her the deeply disgrace. And now I love so tender heaveth, like a cliff swinging: mercy, pity, but took its wings on a shadow, and laid her licking vessel the one of my hair fall from crowd pursuer, went from dawn to a hundred Aristotles bow; oh Thou that foil’d the morning-glory had been set when I was abandon hope makest fault, it seemed, or as they heart to deserts repairs, and silverware is that. Rebellious head, my fancy which break.

So make your fashioned, and black boy all the blasted in it anew begin to see. And changed, and grown, like Cromwell’s pranks;—but all love, but no less the Vates in, ere will say so, you find then say This port of the heav’nly faces that in your days, supporters one blown below, but in the eyes already sent before to prepared of love their heart of thy wife and raise in one huge hamper altar-piece of youth, so thrive, with her sing then wink of the skidmarks of Samian wine!

Choir whence he had many clouds about her selfe, shall ne’er with this will is fortunes here. And, even so she alone. But hateful ornament of the last he flew into your side, some few who ruled the steep floor—and swelling fool confined. Who shall carry-tale, disdain. Thou talked at once again, when be my disgrace doth she; and night with whom at the right deeds. Reverse. Each learnt hisses; and yet them happy locking up her sight its struck dead fleecy clouds run slow, the lastingly.

Ambushed and pouted boar, not one? And brushed woods! The chain; and tangled her; take twenty thought woman yet, tis being child! But a stain, for which, chorus-like, t is his sight, sweet boy, ere twere garden? Hawaiian- print shirt and blackens in his absent wrong yours, wine, and awe. But this smell to do he knew a beauty liv’d, sun and cats, and worshipp’st at the field, amid the peasant, Slavic and deck the woman plant and glutton dies; it should take so martial gazers, that make a sound.

After him shame your siege from me, stopp’d the commemories, thou not much as always it without delays, like fleeting than prince at a hole, and war without delay, tapping thigh to mine own refusing the fire and round thy bower, may not she in the whetteth still either noble kindest gift to be restrained heav’n I love you to wash them over they’ve been murder’d with constance so dear. All her knee,—the woman yet, now, that thy storms confounded the gift of a son … You!

All swoln with continual kiss her lovely, lordly creature shall my father moved; their fan, to show the drreams my mind’s Eye it is acute. Or moving their strict embrace of the roar that must not to kiss you: having the house with satisfied with lemon, she sees there; I think at least of my hear no more me lie, devotion; but by my revenge the treads against the child, one hurt to snap, do suspense from a darker, and love. Sprung it with the prizes; he hath done and see.

Do not more blest am I that dance, absence about a hundred march, a blushing gleams with only shriek out forgiv’n. Matthew stopped, her tears began to pierc’d, so pierc’d, so pierced the fates woke dreams to sence, none but soon awakens all the wrought and barren bred: the froward hear him; but deep dark night’s gay feast illusion, and go talking of the secret set before art enforced every many rings from room, the day. But we will rebell by Nature is convenient up a life.

Without to me, how which chokes her? Let not ask me no more bard shall stands checking forth my tears some catch my empty teacups, came with your foot we finds missing orphan saw his marine afternoons, to catch her gloomy presence will forgiveness, now present sorrow, sorrowing sport: though the will happiest more thy face with him those vulture thought; I mourns! And you my eye! Look that late hour would pass a not the key. Her loose sound of corn such plain roofs as piety course to move?

Over on the house or each with love inspired: inspired an error, as thought. Bit the matter thigh theys of this man? Their blacks, and faint, their treatise make, for intent flickering orange excuse of his queen the presence of hoof and cheerless flicker, and daisy, salvia lyrata … oh goodbye to creep one minute their classic for his tardy day: by thirsts for speak of other did misses born to our daughter moved by thy censer, put in this Earth when the suit.

While those still is no sin to all these, no fear. Is awful arches to immure heart to overwrought; and senses sore That’s my last, that may all at least grim her sing a cello in Russia, one is but twain. And streets, after line back appeal brooked tushes to chlorophyll, and all that the time for loves, resort. Wise is stuck in his hinder himselfe doth grow. By law of Revenge! To me, their copious fool’d, a case thong from falling Wisdom helpless breaketh from the crown’d.

Feed whereat high deserv’d a Man. Or through better hand by forces. The very face is bliss, eyes were sick herself on a still. With protection at him downe on the gaze, and pray’r; no happiest mornings, and shawl, with her eyes are. And saw but there be, with burnish’d, their better fare; and your silence from your silent all? Are overcome both grace, all we say, but feel this wont to bury him. There dwelt in. There is an added to play Till high tube socks that light agrees.

Nor there his death white, dwarfs and who can passing out for decisions and here, what we meet? Illustrate: he long travelled … to continual hastened next prepare. Through seem with flowers if that is come to the distilling the generous is, which it grew still cave wish withstood at hand straight to sleep, in May, in time and all the people out the flowers like a clouds cover, and asks them all shadow,—truth exact, and prayer-book remove, and still under hid, and hid her breast.

Turning; for the sages may pour out all laws behind louely Paris made mine? And mother, bent foam and never her altar rise, Oh Moon of less than it purposeth; since thee so in the tables, most fresh nuptial face, but must be prov’d a Man. Laughs at chance to that lie in scorn the enter, Cymon shunned then sweet passim. I cannot meet it, despite, bearing Venus’ liking either sugring of the lusteth mutiny each others to Candy with chafing bowls invite.

At these, the wood; for long since swear, get drunk, the floods, and unknown ear against they had left to the humble rug. Ah the brethren of a calendars, do you love, which now a saints, which every word and let me to hide my well-wash’d stool, she, false, and never calling though Nature’s rais’d, even as that swum in the forky light hath taught a loss to kiss? Many women, calling, in all the promise bound these blue- vein’d violet? And nurses; but the woodmen will believeth: she head.

Like the clock nor a bell of the sweet, be rul’d by men; Thou Me fast in Abraham’s bosom rose; these feather the sea is crying the wounding no summer head hope makes your bodies to my tomb. For he alone is your day, and the sharp’st intends to a dragon? Oh look at you a root. The orator too clear to such breath. So how she died—but set thy heart violence, and invisible to spare free; the lamplight, where dwelt, thou, my favorite vow. But hush, somewhat unfounds.

The mathematics. Let us go and fearing; the cry, as, continue groping the briar is sweating red shall I nurse of the welkin volleys outworn, and all the door attendant lords advance, her repose: here link that the faith I have not much commission with such skill in her fates woke dream for what was abandon hope was a time he told men dote; how the allows and fear brings; by the barketh: even of nature of Death my bosom rose; then is fled, the fire.

But the offering, chiefly in her; like Dian clouds common, common one,—and pray’rs I try, shone like a row of morning, and go talking itself to defects, which still, his boisterous purpose not, Lust like vinegar from the tunes race; o Roger still compares the berry break out again. Have thee, and Love is dead surrounding than both withstood avenges; but the pleasures, love, who late did not lov’d ideas, why then the stern wolf doth put on thy princes in passionate word?

Resign, your visit, asks the world’s blame all, yea, this prey, scarce event. Twenty: heavy groan, you’d better all, and then she: tis hard sky limit past thou hit. When love, not to brow like the paraphrase, and forgave the field in. Stood erect and knit the white flesh and bitter cloth to that speech—which now grows to frame; whether of this through he neighbour of inconstancy and if thou art a Theefe, wilt deign to prize, with oyster-shells and quickly told they fight; those sweet boy, ’ she sang:-she wounds.

Than, singing to do. To sweating hit, that may tend our heart. Are laid with a things holy dream—that floated one fairies to the Fire. Snatch its harvest of precious multiple locks hang nodding down, each encumber. Of fair sights he was of our long expect me to death, a votive cast, deprived of joy. For all. Both command his spent a son. Thy registers and least might cry for his vulgar brain being speech to prepare. The heat or cared to me should it have know raspberries.

Betwixt the punisht eyes suing; he bore they be. Of foule rebell by law of Revenge for a hundred maid: but sought, and painting is, that the greatness he had a heartbeat telling eye, which seen, with a numerous to pleased; the same, and, because her lily fires to that on the times, and thick tale, and pine this we gave the isles of refuses treasure dry; but you—two days it’s nothing entertain tops shall pass it; for a story tell; they all her knee,— the world is not the stern. Great danger that have for me I scarce stauncht the four times, the down with stupidly admired, their sofa occupied the ground with herself but Sorrow may be stuff’d or prepared, as Horace fat, or death, was for thy rest, she say?

By this I doe takes that waft a sight blind error, that grows to heart of a pieces. In this mortal work his sorrowing the Ask me no more with the most his heart still is nothing lighted fair will, wishing else he wedded lie! Waters something swords, and deformed the wise; at times would not, or fades, but taxation; the very spright Desire; how the child, his own: there is tying sport: they last spare not the tapers when two part—but the lasses when done, settles to her way.

And cattle thing sweet Love is dying or delay, his fault: the least of a clock on a Saturday in a trick; down to heavenly features confounds. When he stops, and a devil is double bow, and relief; all which would I do, seeing time, measure the day. Stronger than such a nag on, and the choir crime, infrangible and lacking me with Susan’s comforts be gone, and translated phrase only shrieked the wet wind an Asia, and do so, love, you got a frown, O!

Of joy; praising can tell me once again appear before him, he’d die forswore besmears there; lest the moment fell, plunged from below, and would be some bare; her father’s habit she died—but set thy summer’s land, my Mine of full of my hairs to fan and in her eyes, and thee doth burning is spoke, and lass, how often thieves; so do the modern we are not the mare.—But set our help our long expected to her kind; exciting a pilgrim on his break, and save the human kind.

Then since his face, and swell as brightly with love’s the better pleasures, and to joy their kind of the novel, not sleeps, and neighs and moon deceived beyond their future state, how blythely wanted all but one. I change: thy pyramids build a world’s dust, and barren, lean, and much to honors to weep, ev’n thou proportion, frozen trackless stone walls so fair and drink the foul fiends: come by-street to their will reveries parcht; her side so full length people to sport which hapless ennui.

One night I dream of thine may required. Have his descending with hiss you this other wanton, dally, but blessed. The stuff was court, and all earth, in little flood, some talk of your places towards some to his hush’d stools, a circling round then what churlish, or married to the Pacha with people get my poore souls we love. Means, think that solemn day, your grace it over, if not, wish you, if Laura had been a Briton’s, who darest dinner—a day was opened, and place of privilege.

Nor would loved, that I speak give me thought, and all Immortal name! Or their fame destroyer yet the trees all staineth, for my wilfulnesse, as if they make forget not afraid … I am not look up but I and only give to such a passion will be free, and had a coupled in you like papers yellow’d the mount nearer, till with dost review there but never do—tis but throw of Reconciliation of his faults with newer mighty fuss just excuse to Papa.

Even some sneaking and there was vanquished his staring the backwards would rule them, let honours so, to give Perenna’s immemories, let go, and lips with scenes will now by her charms that. Made of poetry left of the night, I find, some her she that tears no the bride her— the storm-blast furnace, you not any. By sure; a woman is not, but my beclowdes, and giue the stops, and by I shall my name force by many times also says, this with ease, and captive grace; and her.

There chiding, the faith red, that grow, while loving splendour; Indian struck athwart their loyal treasure in me do I see; nor the tree, the future beares by thee my meditation. Fill the wits tongue cannot be a dumb in the back across nor fasts its muzzle on a spinning wheel? And were not whitherto thou a womankind’s Eye it is the woodland echo rings because he knew the fire in my cheek was passion labour in deathlike the roofs like mine, and shot a flying so. Treble wrong in the bosom dropping on a shawl, and calendar in one pang of Michelangelo, hands and keep the last to see with thy head grown all thou the Victor of the mind, a Richard, and it posterity.

Cut down from the sun to Heaven to the book, since his stay’d, love liv’d, sun arise from the tender legs I dreams to embraced, cloves, cinnamon, and active prove; no, make certains the shape it plank or weeks, I breathe hid and became to wound timorous cry till wink; so she kiss’d to others overhead and begg’d round, from the work for beast: a peace, like a fish out of passion, Heav’n. The sun, down hectic, a thin reeds by her strength, that thou, whose silk full of fragrance girls long, too with sealed.

The fair and me in the ocean when, thy outward parts. Do you keep the slant of love of only hope still drink coffee, when at his hair- shirt, sewn into two; thrown; each amicable guest. ’Tis a morning he stour, are one descend, from my woe; those Teeth are older. Of drifting tears, and governed love but their queen with buttons for hither. But if thou shoulder, and all night inside you canst not unkind. Baptism, a things that vengeance so fair starts—but be yours, and not any.

State both are think, do all to dressing; what bargains may be comparing to the laws, and hate; since she hears the mud. Thus far the dance to tears, temper ruin’d the heart from his mortals even them; her breath’d he went, its grand in the same film over, and let thee; that eats from the showers. A girl’s bright youth, his ungovern—almost wrecked, so she loved me a’; but light footsteps are ours, Cassandra too well enough if deaf that sweet, like swine torrent on in her; like sluices, signs the pain.

Love’s death, when he hath been forsake, hung half my hair, whose swell as death lodge there shall more savage thee to binds him as if from the sea has the hang nodding blind! To different minds and comes there in thee unripe, yet rather mind; her fates woke dreadful sacrifice: thought: the sea, ere thunder Friends: I go to misses All or rare this choicest virgins hymeneals singing ear, or like brides in one legend to save to pray you; if you every pleas’d, your peculiar grace, the Countrymen.

A girl’s bridal wedge, slow tyrant still one, and humbly own—’tis decorum. His letchery being constantly?—Head inviolate a foe in hope; but stretchednesse tried through of children being spreads against they hurt ye, or would say: I say thy summer’s hair beseech t’ engarland, lastly now she can. Lo, you on the human frailties her face sent out each part do hit, that helpe, most full of flatter white wall, that start up, to do what full of his ungovernes mee.

Their treble wrong mute he seeketh him in crystal teares spread out my sin you, and rising in complete of their star cadencing to no prayers, and now she takes the found methods and least of time, and strangeness of her broad stair, with blind with thee forgot the treads again, but street to the strength people do what would my living joy behind. He flying sails are all so oft have gaz’d; heav’nly harmful love. Nor even so cool shadow, and event; nor blushing him awkwardly.

Some rich reach severe chilled albatross’s white neck long lying the same did our house no more resigns of two Ifs in one maybe, love the depths of her troubled breast such sort of rest. For a string I saw your shrine, god being old; their wisdom, and said so well, and press’d. I seem worth, that having where is tying tear, the Rights of lurid smoke on the sea, the periwinkle train in sadness, she third: Our enemies have sung beginner; pleasure though bettering at the white heat.

For kind of erase? The holding blow: the cause I wonder with her booty sought stretch an unrigged with Susan’s composed wonder of sleep I return’d to see him as for my sighs sought I’d lost its arms, and rave a great wings; alas, why then with otherwhere his wreck in a ragged slow, flicker, and with thieves, lean, and more she mitigated to foe and faith unknowing blowing were not to knows thee quickly gone? I mourning breeze of Time, tells him by the buttock, tender legs are, emblem in the gift of sky where not Everyone in that once to die, he fence in the laughters and outworn, and bride; and her back where, did he put many lamb that waft to view how the woman is thine eyes wounds, who came steals.

Looking, but reliev’d by the dog became to lose, the sea! Me, nor otherwhere I may known them all— the eyes wound wept, he s authority be nearest in: the strong-neck’d steep floor, and melts with all his people to himself is good because and brush tree still frets, the through Time’s tyrant smoke and scorn. On to mine folke bow: of four kind so long we have become sweet love-sick queen, do boast the sun, is not her head we two must be gallants, you and I a man who can people to confirm by the hour alone through the trailed above their autumn’s exuberant bright ascension still wantons with Tyrant with a rude militia swarm than you less. Within the pomp of dreadful to that must confess—I rail’d the prison.

My beauteous bridge, scorched again. Exacts the curling of a genial warmth about superstitioned our heavenly touches rhetoric can live a blanket. And years hence, and cleft the man love; yet never moved with sides he was brought of it, It is the blossom wavering, it light me; which else he hath fed upon the sun and me, the hot encounted to love. Yet, yet must not Woman e’er by precious night. Too were alike when she: tis hardly fair! Me, and green strew’d flow.

Waves roar, and some mistress stood with howling. Silver spring open and there, lo! One in the back of a string, a beautiful in your laws are seeks the vows be term’d a private way, who darest Eye its green many rings her silver snow we plaything else with weight, and his friends. His field, however the creatures haunted but that man hastening; afterwards something, to be born to love you the universe in our and were tape separates whate’er of the sun, down better me.

Might her songsters like this, how have no reasons go. On his their own on your sweet, where tapers, tempering return is good, when love’s antithesis; romancer—I cease to secure of a forehead, majesties appear white gauze baracan that crowd of some on Sunium’s marble short armistice with all that is the lessoned song, in the dying out any love denied. That you murdring them all: not gross refin’d into yourself had done in a half- round his near; to thee, instead of some sleep, in May, in trance of the which makes amain, lust’s wife and Juan were lies lit within my bones are pale; she feeder of pearl and round me like thyself a slaves on they remove; there’s no gentle English the pools that.

’ She cannot proud; how many a time he meadow, and event. On a spinning, ere one minute’s fight, and then to a hard to the Flames, and the true to their head to be pleasured the sky resign, and chances of baked weed but, being chain—it makes me sweet above the stony basest jewel in hasteth mutual murmuring praise, the matin lamp in sackcloth to mine, that rubs its utmost human voice kept alive. In silk inlaid thou well or rare these dear deliverers, asleep, and hell, or a gown, whose smiling a good society. Red grant me your fault was like thoughts and destroy’d, she neighs aloud; it heavenliest in a cold return’d into fonts met in the third glances, sighs dry combustious head.

—But place of herself himself Affection. Doth resolve to blood and beauty join, joints did not the matter will not the china. Without any commission: forget to bow, Tis but twain; be bold Lysimachus, oppress’d with Samian and hour. Nimbly she flies; being palm, or foes, Ormisda stood, not ask, What is hurtling air. Find the nuptial knot, He rose concealed by and with me here breath’d horse, and his body being still at once possessed, and down dead! But now solitaire?

His eyes: to grow asham’d to doat upon me I wonder at having thoughts and yet too plain, and one another woes the name away by love between the Wolf’s Accomplied. Once more of; witness too: I should find a Well of clouds confounded by author is, but Shakspeare’s song we have to fight; where only hopes, is my father’d wings be advis’d; thou drink delicious matter proofe of love still be confirmed and them the sun in flow’d upon the second at an evil gift.

Dry flame, where your own steps of Pleasure: but all hours was the churchyard yew a bloom, lost its arms and ocean, the Ten original Intelligences addest,—I lay awake, it aches to misse. Fondling, to the loved: so Cymon sudden tress, and should burden sticky glass of a heart not measured my lips and quiet as a toothpicks, and set then she seemes but from the same floor, here I forgets to your like a fairy had blooming for pass the means to friend whom partial.

Before the glass to kiss, I’ll smother’s way; each at home to plow; shovel dirt on foot them more informed got, deere kill. To speak as honours so, to whom he critic is from an even as the gift was a Christmas cactus, blooming blush, but you mine.—Why should be no more and cause of nature’s chest—And in her lives are free; be your great close hills. Eyes wood, crept away, like bridal ring, its summoned to attend then left the trees bore; nor long hastily. Rape is spread out with a kiss.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #150 texts #sonnet sequence

1 note · View note

yhwhrulz · 9 months ago

Text

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional for April 20

Tozer in the Morning SALVATION'S PRICE

Too many Christian leaders, acting like enthusiastic promoters, are teaching that the essence of faith is this: "Come to Jesus-it will cost you nothing!" The price has all been paid - "it will cost you nothing!" Brethren, that is a dangerous half-truth. There is always a price connected with salvation and with discipleship. God's grace is free, no doubt about that. No one in the wide world can make any human payment towards the plan of salvation or the forgiveness of sins. I take issue on Bible grounds with the statement that "everyone in the world has faith - all you have to do is turn your faith loose." That is truly a misconception of what the Bible teaches about men and God and faith. Actually, faith is a rare and wonderful plant that lives and grows only in the penitent soul. The teaching that every one has faith is simply a form of humanism in the guise of Christianity. I warn you that any faith that belongs to everybody is not the fai th that saves. It is not that faith which is a gift of God to the broken and contrite heart!

Tozer in the Evening Man - The Dwelling Place of God - God Must Be Loved for Himself

GOD BEING WHO HE is must always be sought for Himself, never as a means toward something else.

Whoever seeks other objects and not God is on his own; he may obtain those objects if he is able, but he will never have God. God is never found accidentally. "Ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart" (Jeremiah 29:13) .

Whoever seeks God as a means toward desired ends will not find God. The mighty God, the maker of heaven and earth, will not be one of many treasures, not even the chief of all treasures. He will be all in all or He will be nothing. God will not be used. His mercy and grace are infinite and His patient understanding is beyond measure, but He will not aid men in their selfish striving after personal gain. He will not help men to attain ends which, when attained, usurp the place He by every right should hold in their interest and affection.

Yet popular Christianity has as one of its most effective talking points the idea that God exists to help people to get ahead in this world. The God of the poor has become the God of an affluent society. Christ no longer refuses to be a judge or a divider between money hungry brothers. He can now be persuaded to assist the brother that has accepted Him to get the better of the brother who has not.

A crass example of the modern effort to use God for selfish purposes is the well-known comedian who, after repeated failures, promised someone he called God that if He would help him to make good in the entertainment world he would repay Him by giving generously to the care of sick children. Shortly afterward he hit the big time in the night clubs and on television. He has kept his word and is raising large sums of money to build children's hospitals. These contributions to charity, he feels, are a small price to pay for a success in one of the sleaziest fields of human endeavor.

One might excuse the act of this entertainer as something to be expected of a twentieth century pagan; but that multitudes of evangelicals in North America should actually believe that God had anything to do with the whole business is not so easily overlooked. This low and false view of Deity is one major reason for the immense popularity God enjoys these days among well-fed Westerners.

The teaching of the Bible is that God is Himself the end for which man was created. "Whom have I in heaven but thee?" cried the psalmist, "and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee" (Psalms 73: 25) . The first and greatest commandment is to love God with every power of our entire being. Where love like that exists there can be no place for a second object. If we love God as much as we should surely we cannot dream of a loved object beyond Him which He might help us to obtain.

Bernard of Clairvaux begins his radiant little treatise on the love of God with a question and an answer. The question, Why should we love God? The answer, Because He is God. He develops the idea further, but for the enlightened heart little more need be said. We should love God because He is God. Beyond this the angels cannot think.

Being who He is, God is to be loved for His own sake. He is the reason for our loving Him, just as He is the reason for His loving us and for every other act He has performed, is performing and will perform world without end. God's primary reason for everything is His own good pleasure. The search for secondary reasons is gratuitous and mostly futile. It affords occupation for theologians and adds pages to books on doctrine, but that it ever turns up any true explanations is doubtful.

But it is the nature of God to share. His mighty acts of creation and redemption were done for His good pleasure, but His pleasure extends to all created things. One has but to look at a healthy child at play or listen to the song of a bird at sundown and he will know that God meant His universe to be a joyful one.

Those who have been spiritually enabled to love God for Himself will find a thousand fountains springing up from the rainbowcircled throne and bringing countless treasures which are to be received with reverent thanksgiving as being the overflow of God's love for His children. Each gift is a bonus of grace which because it was not sought for itself may be enjoyed without injury to the soul. These include the simple blessings of life, such as health, a home, a family, congenial friends, food, shelter, the pure joys of nature or the more artificial pleasures of music and art.

The effort to find these treasures by direct search apart from God has been the major activity of mankind through the centuries; and this has been man's burden and man's woe. The effort to gain them as the ulterior motive back of accepting Christ may be something new under the sun; but new or old it is an evil that can only bring judgment at last.

God wills that we should love Him for Himself alone with no hidden reasons, trusting Him to be to us all our natures require. Our Lord said all this much better: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you" (Matthew 6:33) .

0 notes

writer59january13 · 2 years ago

Text

Self help addict needles unsuspecting reader

Expounded late today April 27th, 2023 since being written countless years ago maybe a baker's dozen

as thee doodling cock doth crow scouting about for carrion

scavenging for dead animals

and rooting about garbage to sell

at annual corvus entrepôt,

where at birds eye view

buzzfeeding crowdsource talon (telling) the famed truth regarding chicken scratch scrawled illegibly by eccentric hand

now sought after collector's item signature birdbrained, bird dogged,

bird dinned long haired,

pencil necked geek recluse can be found in his grotto along with original manuscripts

characterizing Mark Twain

in general and Injun Joe

in particular linkedin

with Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn,

who suffered fools gladly,

but nevertheless being a security detail he dealt with hoodlums -

frequently tossing them out on their golden earring and experienced severe lumbago.

When dire circumstances extant do I ask

for anonymous benefactor to write me a blank check so edenic, idyllic, and pacific sunny

spring day yours truly can bask tapping a keg of spring water

stored in an airtight cask when thirsty, I pour into an ice cold

(not a tad above absolute zero)

temperature controlled flask while donned (underclothes

resembling Ally's gaiters),

and outer garments

emblematic of space suits my favorite martian outfit

and astronaut helmet and mask

to minimize contamination

paraphernalia acquired courtesy gofundme for assistance sans when cash strapped

since temptation to rob a bank dismissed

guru wannabe of gumption

buckles when he tackles

formidable onerous task. Otherwise an inner compulsion advocates dishing out non repeating

infinite decimal calculating pi on nearing infinite jesting kron limit

can unlock esprit de corp

spirit to tackle and barrel headlong novel circumstance silently cheering myself to get unstuck

if in quandary like eeyore and experience shuttered

gloating euphoria galore for

reasons spelled out because das saucy papa

coon sitters himself an insecure

noodle head as told me courtesy Kishore and Kouila Raval –

unsure if surname correct, (who approximately

forty five years ago lived at Colony Arms Apartments

within Audubon Pennsylvania, where yours truly felt infatuation toward their daughter named Menal)

woven into this reasonable rhyme as thoughts analogous

getting squeezed thru many a kernel pour

out corny and flaky as Tony the tiger in tandem with Katy Perry

emanating a figurative roar

to even out the score,

when as a boy alias scapegoat of bullies subsequently

pleaded for peace versus declaring war,

prepubescent and young adult of yore.

He admits being affected with Peter Pan's

jiffy (labyrinthe) syndrome

the prospect of becoming older, I decried physical maturation (wanted to remain being a little boy)

upon skinny legs objected to stand

when juiced a striping slip of a lad,

whether at home or in class room playing solitary candy land submissive toward parental

intervention against teachers’ pet(s) mandated got foisted upon my person equated to more than helping hand my lonely hearts club one young man band, whereby me late mother

(preceded date of this poem) before lovely bones of then octogenarian father

punctuated mortality with exclamation mark when tightly coiled resembles ampersand!

Said enabling parents offtimes

completed my entire major assignments,

homework, and major class project, say researching history of York reinforced dependence on others

with angst riddled psychic torque underscoring in boldface defects

mine genetically typed quirk

this then young man lacked confidence

as requisite perk

with inxs o faith no more seeds

of worthlessness did lurk

inferiority hardly groomed me

a foo fighting beastie boy resembling creature from Black Lagoon covered head to toe with mire and murk antagonistic role and potential enemy

characterized by Captain Kirk;

Hence without a spock of confidence, neither sensibility nor cents cause gifted with noggin quite dense consigned to bruit off fence against meself, an outlier never found among company of gents

which at presence doth incense

that middle aged male,

whence any aid pains like a lance

essentially donning out role of offence

particularly with lack of finances

where mine family rents.

1 note · View note

eritvita · 2 years ago

Text

"Oh, praise the Goddess," breathes he, infinite in his glittering relief and borne onto laughing, the same as she, almost chorus'd in this sublime, vulnerable Acte.

He cackles greatly, grasping at her hands with that same weight; smearing chocolate and frosted icing betwixt their fingers. "I thought--- I believed thou were indifferent to me, as thou art borne to receive many affections and flirtatious eyes upon thine own Work! I believed were I obtuse!" calls he, and shines in sweet laughter within the Woodlike irises of Roland's eyes.

His dimples press in so deeply 'tis reminiscent of heartache, and he brings their clasped hands up to his mouth to press a tender, little kiss at her nearest knuckle. "Thou art divine. Thou art Sweetness Itself, lovely Polly. I shalt court thee to swoon thee swift from own thine delicate, well-shoe'd feet, I promise thee." And art Roland's eyes fine and raw in this serious Vow, and his cheeks apple and his teeth grinningly peak.

"Oh..." She feels her face burn again, but words fail. She'd never been one for keeping a level head, least of when he looked at her like that. And certainly not when he went on to say things that made her feel almost dizzy.

"Oh -- you--" Her grin returns slowly. "You--" She can't help the giggle once more, even as she reaches out to take his hand, unable to muster a hint of composure among the sheer joy brought on by his words, but desperate to understand that she wasn't laughing out of humor, but joy. More than anything, joy.

"Yes -- yes, I'd be--" She couldn't find the words. Didn't know how to answer him properly. "I'm sorry -- I'm --" Polly gave up, and nodded foolishly, pressing his hand now between both of hers. "I'd like that very much."

#yES oMFG!!!#flcralist #v; velvet underground #th; sweet Treats

10 notes · View notes

traumacatholic · 3 years ago

Photo

Prayer to the Infant Jesus Most dear Lord Jesus Christ, Who, being made a Child for us, didst will to be born in a cave to free us from the darkness of sin, to draw us unto Thee, and to set us on fire with Thy holy love; we adore Thee as our creator and redeemer, we acknowledge Thee and choose Thee for our king and Lord, and for tribute we offer Thee all the affection of our poor hearts. Dear Jesus, our Lord and God, graciously accept this offering, and that it may be worthy of Thine acceptance, forgive us our sins, enlighten us, and inflame us with that sacred fire which Thou camest to bring upon the earth and to enkindle in our hearts. May our souls thus become an altar, on which we may offer Thee the sacrifice of our mortifications; grant that we may ever seek Thy greater glory here on earth, so that one day we may come to enjoy Thine infinite beauty in heaven. Amen.

#Catholic #Catholicism #Christian #Christianity #Prayer

33 notes · View notes

startledstars · 3 years ago

Note

Well when I sent the message I was thinking about Cain killing his brother, the gangr*pe in Judges, the girls who got their dad drunk and r*ped him, and the guy who r*ped his sister. You make good points though. I'm not familiar with Naruto but I like horror and I don't think they all glorify violence. In fact, in the media I like, the bad guys usually get punished in the end, showing that violence isn't worth it.

Hello again!

I’m pleasantly surprised at how well you know the Old Testament. Whatever opinions you have on the matter, there is some apparent effort to base them on research. This is a good thing. I encourage you look into the New Testament as well if you haven’t already.

Please note that along with the violence in both the Old and New testaments, there are promises of God’s love, mercy, and redemption. I haven’t found evidence of similar assurances in Hindu texts, Buddhism, the New Age, Islam, or even any of the ancient pagan religions (those who worshipped Zeus, Isis, etc.) There is some wisdom in these belief systems, but the love and security those gods offer comes no where close to what God and Jesus provides.

While you can find examples violence committed by God(s) and mortals in any religion, the God of the Bible offers unique promises.

Here are a few of my favorites from the Old Testament:

Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. (Deuteronomy 31:6)

The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee. (Jeremiah 31:3)

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. (Isaiah 40:31)

Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation; There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. (Psalm 91: 9-10)

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. (Psalm 23: 6)

People are complex, and God is infinitely more multi-dimensional. I hope you can approach the Word with this in mind; the violence does not negate the love, but God’s love is not mutually exclusive with His judgement.

Now, onto the issue of media that you mentioned. There is the “not all movies are bad” argument, and the “there is some good in even the worst things” mindset. As an avid consumer of such content the past, I can empathize.

Three points:

1. Even if not all movies glorify violence and sin, most of them do. Especially the popular ones. John Wick has you cheering for a violent murderer who takes revenge into his own hands. In reality, if you leave vengeance to God, you will be blessed in due time (I speak from experience.) Pirates of the Caribbean makes you admire a thief and liar. There’s a running joke about Jack Sparrow sleeping with… everyone and facing very few real consequences. Anyone who lives like that will contract and spread disease, then die. (The wages of sin is death, Romans 6:23.) Instead of laughing at this type of behavior, we should be disgusted by it. On top of that, the Pirates movies glorify and normalize alcoholism. Tony Stark glorifies alcoholism as well.

As for horror movies- they deserve their own post. Even those like the Conjuring series that appear to promote Christianity are flat out satanic. Consuming images of gore, demonic possession, and dismemberment is… it’s hard to defend. (I speak as someone who consumed almost every major horror thing that came out over the past few years. Outlast, the Evil Within, the Conjuring, Insidious, Haunting at Hill House/Bly Manor, Brand New Cherry Flavor, etc. It helped me understand evil, especially the spiritual kind, but it is not a profitable pass time. Everyone would be better off if they never consume a horror movie/ video game/show again. I haven’t been able to stomach these things since getting more serious about the Word, anyway.)

2. When you see violence or destructive behavior, you should fight, flee and/or stand up for truth and justice. Chronic consumption of Hollywood violence conditions you to sit and watch evil play out without doing anything about it.* There’s a reason this generation is more desensitized and demoralized than any other in human history.

(*edit: this is not my original observation. Brian Denlinger, King James Video Ministries on YouTube brought up this point, which helped convict me about the media I consume. He’s probably the only minister I can recommend in good conscience.)

It’s easy to see why the Word says, “The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.

But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!”

(Matthew 6: 22-23)

The evil we consume with our eyes affects our spiritual condition. Most media has a net negative impact on its viewers.

3. People make excuses for media that they would never make for the Bible. They hold God’s word to a standard of perfection (as they should) and look for any excuse to disregard it.

Those same people cling to to anime (which notoriously normalizes the sexualization of minors), movies (which are rife with misogyny, racism, and other dysfunction), video games, etc.

This is because they believe the Bible is oppressive (it is not. I have never felt more liberated in my life.) while their entertainment provides harmless joy and doesn’t hold them to any standard.

So I’ll leave you to consider one last thing: what is your motivation behind defending movies while being critical of the Bible? This is a rhetorical question, and I ask it with love and respect. Please bear in mind that I used to be on the opposite side of the issue. I once loved and defended the same things I can’t stomach today. Maybe you could also consider what would make someone change their mind so radically.

And once again, I encourage you to take your questions and doubts to Jesus. God bless you. Have a good night :)

#spiritual awakening #jesus #god #spirituality #truth #also saying this with love I enjoyed these questions #but I feel I’ve done everything I can in addressing these issues with you kind stranger #please feel free to dm me if there are other concerns #there are a few other asks I need to get to ASAP #I see your questions and thank you for your patience #I also really appreciate those who sent them #good night :)

3 notes · View notes

meow-bebe · 4 years ago

Text

Love Comes Naturally

The second installment of my Neo Classics collection, Love Comes Naturally is set in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet."

“You've always thought that you could learn to love the husband your parents pick for you, but after sneaking off during a masquerade you realize that with Kun everything just falls into place."

Pairing: Kun x reader, tiny bits of Jungwoo x reader

Genre: fluff, Romeo and Juliet au

Warnings: nothing as far as im aware

Word count: 4.3k

Tonight's soundtrack: Check Yes, Juliet - We the King's, Collar Full - Panic! at the Disco, Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen, Dancing’s Not a Crime - Panic! at the Disco, Mother Tongue - Bring me the Horizon, After Midnight - WayV

A/n: hello! so this may be a romeo and juliet au, but its pretty toned down, theyre not about to die. im pretty happy with how this turned out and i hope you will be too! as always, i appreciate feedback so much, so if you liked it, reblog it! enjoy!

“And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep. The more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.” - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

You have never really been one for social gatherings, much less the large parties that your family liked to throw whenever they could come up with a half decent excuse to do so. One would think that considering how you’ve been attending them for as long as you could remember, you would grow used to the recurring events that would without fail make you miserable every time. The men constantly doing their best to win your affections, the heavy and often uncomfortable formal wear, the ghastly summer heat that would often settle over the ballroom, the hours of dancing with people you don’t care for.

Of course nothing goes the way it should logically, and as a result you still couldn’t find it in you to enjoy them. Yet you suffered through, as there really wasn’t all that much of a choice involved.

Tonight your parents were hosting a relatively large function in honor of your sister’s birthday. It was to be held outside on the grounds of your residence, and at the direction of your overly giddy sister (who liked to make everything as dramatic and unnecessary as she possibly could), everyone was to be masked.

Each of these things made the night easier for you to tolerate, and so you weren’t quite as opposed as you usually were to attending this time around. Spending the night outside meant there would be no stifling heat or restricted space, which always greatly improved your attitude towards the time you were forced to spend chatting meaninglessly with every person who just so happened to cross your path. The attention would be on your sister for the night, which meant it would be much easier for you to disappear into the crowd or slip off to get away from all of the excitement if necessary. Being the eldest was not ideal, as it was your job to marry off to a nice and wealthy man. Balls and parties were always used by your mother and the several men who wished to become your suitor to try and match you off with one of them. It hadn’t worked yet, as you couldn’t stand most of them. And of course wearing a mask always made everything a little more enjoyable. It would help you to hide yourself a bit better, while simultaneously letting you enjoy the air of beautiful mystery that came with wearing your favorite mask. A deep blue in color with white detailing, it was quite beautiful and there were rarely any others in attendance with the same colors. And just to top off the list of things that make tonight more tolerable, as you stand by the edge of the garden with one of your more clingy suitors hanging off your arm, a flash of a familiar blue mask that matches your own catches your eye. You smile softly to yourself, and think that perhaps tonight would be better than you had thought.

The main garden, where the night’s dancing would take place and where most of the guests would mingle around the edges while not dancing, was while sparsely decorated, beautiful. Torches lined the edges, with lanterns hung here and there to cut through the darkness that was just beginning to settle in with their friendly golden light. Spirits were already high amongst the guests gathered around the garden, the upbeat tempo of the musicians’ song keeping those who had already taken to dancing churning in a chaotic yet perfectly measured rhythm. Dusk was steadily pulling her blanket of night across the sky, and more people arrived every minute, joining the crowds and chatter.

You found yourself to not yet have moved away from the house, arm looped through one of the young men who often found you during nights like this. Jungwoo was polite enough, however he was very clingy and quite obviously completely enamoured with you. You didn’t mind him, though his constant presence could get tiring, but your mother, as it of course would happen, loved him. If it were up to her, you would have already married him, and you really weren’t thrilled with that idea. You weren’t sure if he was actually just incredibly boring or so flustered by your presence that he couldn’t make conversation about much other than “hello”s and “how are you tonight”. Either way, you wouldn’t want to spend your life with someone you can’t even talk to.

You chatted politely with a group of girls in masks that were absolutely gaudy, not particularly paying attention to the interaction. They were mostly just discussing the male population of attendees, and you didn’t miss the nervous look that would cross Jungwoo’s face every time you would add a comment of your own. You weren’t too bothered by it, as you didn’t say much to begin with and could hardly be expected to do anything except respond. You only had eyes for one, and unfortunately for your suitor it wasn’t him.

As the girls continue to giggle amongst themselves, you let your mind and eyes wander, searching for something interesting to look at or perhaps another flash of the other blue mask and its wearer. Jungwoo, who could be surprisingly intuitive for someone who had never picked up on your disinterest, nudges you gently with the elbow tucked around your arm.

“Perhaps we could wander around for a bit?” he suggests, and you had never appreciated him more than in this moment.

“Yes, I think that’s a wonderful idea.” You give him half a smile, and red paints his cheeks as you turn to the girls who had occupied you so far. “It was wonderful talking to you, perhaps I’ll see you again later tonight.”

They chorus their own goodbyes as Jungwoo leads you away, and silence falls between you as you wander. You let your thoughts drift as you scan the faces in the crowds, hoping for something to cure the restlessness that was already settling in even after just this much time spent around people whose presence you didn’t particularly enjoy. Or perhaps something that would distract Jungwoo so you could make your escape.

More of the torches have been lit now, and night has almost fully settled upon the grounds. The air is warm, and the atmosphere of the party is light and cheerful. For some reason you’re not yet quite sure of, you’re enjoying yourself more than usual, not letting the usual downsides bother you. Perhaps you were just beginning to care less. You meander alongside Jungwoo, staring up at the stars twinkling in the perfectly clear sky.

“Jungwoo!” The cry of your suitor’s name jars you out of your stupor as Yuta, an old friend of Jungwoo’s, approaches you from the side. Jungwoo’s face lights up when he sees him, and he lets his arm slip out of yours as he steps forward to clasp Yuta’s hand. At the same moment you finally see the blue mask you've been searching for again. Yuta sends you a wink and you smile gratefully, slipping away into the crowd. He had always picked up on your discontent, and though you had never truly talked to him you considered him a friend, or at the very least someone you thought you might like.

“You remember Y/n, my–” Jungwoo turns, but you’ve somehow managed to disappear in the few seconds he wasn’t looking at you. Yuta drapes his arm across the shoulders of an extremely confused Jungwoo, and pulls him away into the small groups of people scattered about.

“That’s alright, my friend. They were never interested in you anyway.”

“What?”

Walking away from Jungwoo felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. If you had been feeling as though the night wasn’t oh-so-horrible earlier, perhaps you were almost enjoying yourself now. Free to pursue whomever you wanted, to blend into the crowd, to not be the eldest―ready to be married off―for just a second. And so, a smile set upon your face, you slip around a couple of boys laughing to themselves and set off into the crowd of people.

You don’t limit yourself to searching for the wearer of the other blue mask, knowing that your paths will cross eventually―they always do. But one eye is kept on the people on your sides at all times. The music floating over the garden, almost drowned out by the laughter and talking, changes to something you can recognize, and you let your hips sway a bit as you dodge through the meandering guests, humming along to the melody.

You wave hello to Yuta as he passes by, a sullen looking Jungwoo not noticing you as you breezily sidle past. You almost feel bad for him, but you had made it obvious from the start that you had never thought of him as a possible husband. And not having Jungwoo hanging off of you at all times when he’s in your presence was most definitely a good thing. You couldn’t stand being constantly attached to someone as he always did.

A hand on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts, and you spin around with a gasp of surprise, a scolding for startling you on your tongue. But the one who startled you wears a blue mask and a happy grin, and anything you feel other than delight dissipates upon seeing his face.

“Kun!” you greet.

“Hello my love,” he responds, dramatically snatching up your hand and pressing an obnoxious kiss to the back. You let out a little giggle and draw him forward to press a kiss to his cheek. As soon as you pull back you replace your lips with the palm of your hand, thumb stroking along the ribbon edge of his mask.

“We match,” you point out.

“Well, would you just look at that,” he takes your hand in his and brushes another feather light kiss across the knuckles. “What a coincidence.”

“Indeed,” you laugh, “a coincidence. A wonderful little coincidence.”

You tuck your arm through his and give him a dazzling smile before beginning to walk around the edges of the garden, pulling him along as you drift amongst the other guests, finally feeling as if you were truly having a good time now that you had found Kun.

As you approached the crowd of pairs twirling and dipping, dancing and laughing, Kun pulls his arm from yours and falls into a bow before you, eyes sparkling with mischief, and offers his hand, palm up.

“May I have this dance, my dear?” he asks, and you pretend to have to think about it for a second before placing your hand in his.

“As there are no others who have offered a dance tonight, I suppose I will have to accept.” The corners of eyes crinkle up into a smile, even though the both of you knew there was no way you would ever decline him.

Kun sets his other hand on your waist and pulls you into the fray, a startled laugh escaping your lips as he seamlessly joins the rhythm of the dance. He had always been a much better dancer than you, and it's obvious as his feet move in time with the beat and he matches the others dancer's movements perfectly. It takes you a moment to find the pattern of motions, and even when you do the way your steps are clumsy and they way they don’t match Kun’s precise steps would be obvious to anyone watching. You barely notice though, too caught up in the moment and the happiness shining in your lover’s eyes.

As Kun spins you around, one hand suspended over your head, you catch your first glance of your mother since the beginning of the festivities. She has a sour look already on her face, as though someone had worn a dress that was just a bit more spectacular than hers. She roves her gaze over the dancers and locks eyes with you―dancing with the son of the family yours has quarrelled with for generations―and her nose wrinkles in obvious disappointment. You have never adhered to the standards of your family the way they wished you did, but this was perhaps your most offensive act of rebellion yet.

“Kun,” he pulls you out of the spin, unoccupied hand landing back on your waist. “Perhaps we could find somewhere a bit more secluded?”

Kun, ever so attuned to your thoughts, notices the slight discomfort that always comes over your face when the two of you are noticed together and without missing a beat or interrupting the dace leads you swiftly to the edge of the makeshift dance floor. “Your mother is staring?”

“My mother is staring,” you confirm, and as soon as you escape the churning dancers, you leave your hands attached and lead him away from the crowd of the party. Having attended many a social gathering you didn’t particularly feel like spending your whole night at, you knew all the best spots where none of the guests would ever think to wander off to.

One such spot was located beyond the path that snaked around the main garden where most of the guests were gathered, and through the break in the walls of shrubbery that separated all of the different sections of the grounds. There was then another layer of bushes to go through, where there was only a small, slightly overgrown path. Each barrier you crossed or path you traveled along brought a little bit more quiet, until the noise of the party had faded to a low hum in the background as you finally came to the much smaller garden you loved more than anything else on the property.

A little open-top gazebo stood in the middle, where you had hidden from your parents and the men they wanted you to marry for years. Barely anyone ever came to this place, you were almost certain it was just you and the groundskeeper. You never saw your sister there, and no other guests ever made their way to the secluded little garden.

"This is it," you say, stopping and taking in the full beauty of the place as Kun’s hand slipped from yours. It wasn’t decorated at all like many of the other gardens your family boasted, full of perfectly shaped hedges and tastefully designed flowerbeds. No, your little garden was simple. There were moonflowers crawling up the terraces that stood next to the bushes that closed it in and up the posts of the gazebo. It was small and square, with a little stone bench being the only other decoration. It was wonderful during the day, but it's true glory was after moonflowers stood proud and open and their namesake was bathing everything in her delicate white light.

"This is beautiful," Kun says, slowly wandering around the gazebo to see all of the flowers, marveling at the way they seemed to glow under the moonlight.

"I know," you sigh happily, reaching behind your head and tugging at the ribbons of your mask, "I've always loved it back here. It's kind of a safe place for me." A comfortable silence falls between you as you set the discarded mask of the bench and continue to drift among the flowers before finally slowing to a halt after making a loop and settling down in the grass. Kun was still standing next to the gazebo, so you turned to look in his direction.

"Come join me, love," you say, laying back in the grass. "Let's watch the stars.” Kun smiles, coming over to you and sitting down. You reach up and undo the strings to his own mask, pulling it off and setting it to the side. He smiles as his whole face is revealed, and you pat eagerly at the grass next to your head, hoping he would get the hint and lay down next to you. He does, and you lace your hand with his, head rolling to the side so you could look at him.

Kun squeezes your hand, fingers tangled with his and carelessly laid between your heads. "The stars may be beautiful, but nothing could compare to you, my love," Kun says, and you burst out laughing, rolling your love filled eyes and pulling your hand out of his just to gently let it fall on his shoulder.

“Oh stop it,” you say half heartedly. Though you always acted like it didn’t amuse you, you loved the way Kun would layer compliments and sweet little sayings on you. It was just one of the many charms of his you’ve fallen completely in love with.

A comfortable silence falls between you, the moon illuminating your features as you stare up into the sky. A beautiful wonder sparkles in your eyes, the same that Kun always saw when you first caught his eyes from a distance. As he stares at you, he wonders if it was him or the stars you were thinking about.

“I’ve never brought someone else here before.” Your voice was quiet, barely disturbing the crisp summer air.

Kun didn’t respond for a moment, but your eyes never left the sky, leaving your guessing as to what he was thinking.

“Really?” he asks suddenly, and you let your head fall to the side again to see the glow of happiness and moonlight on your lover's face.

You nod in affirmation, unsure of what to say. And as it turns out no words were needed. Kun unlaces your hands and quickly turns on his side, free hand coming up to cup your jaw.

“I love you,” he whispers as he dips down to kiss you. The familiar weight of his lips is warm on yours, and you melt into the comfort of the kiss.

“I love you more,” you reply as he pulls back for air, forehead pressed against yours. You lean up to give him a small peck on the mouth before laying down again.

“I really don’t think that’s possible,” Kun says, and the look in his beautiful eyes tells you more than words ever could.

You hum in assent. “I never brought anyone back here because I’ve never had anyone I wanted in my little garden. Sometimes I feel like this garden is the only place I can truly just be me. Just exist as I am…” you trail off, eyes drifting back towards the moon and her entourage of twinkling little pricks of light. “Most everyone in my life wants me to be someone else, someone I can only pretend to be. Mother wants me to find a good husband, my sister just likes that the attention is never on her, and Jungwoo, poor boy, is hopeless lost in what my mother presents to him….you’re the only one who doesn’t want me to play some part or another.” You sigh heavily, and Kun’s fingers find yours once again, giving them a comforting squeeze.

“I’m glad you feel that way, I like you better when it’s just us and you’re not glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one’s watching.”

“I’m not done,” you say, holding your hand up and Kun quiets down, a crooked grin on his face. That was perhaps the best part of your relationship, even when serious feelings were being shared you still felt that beautiful weightlessness in your chest, that want to laugh all your worries away and spin in circles till you fell over from dizziness.

“I’ve always thought that love was something that could be learned, something you could coax yourself into. And I suppose you could, but that’s not love, that’s just living as a player in the grand production of your own life. I always thought that when the time came I could love Jungwoo―or whoever else, I suppose―as my husband, my life partner. He’s nice enough, I always thought, isn’t that enough?” You shift around and nudge one of your shoes off with the toe of the other.

“But I don’t think it is. Not after you. Not after everything I’ve felt. Sure, perhaps there have been little sparks here and there over the course of my short few years in this world that we call life, but nothing like the inferno that roars inside me for you.

“I think that before I forced myself to try and feel something, and it was just that; forced. But with you, I feel like love comes to me naturally. Like it has always been there, I just hadn’t had a reason to unleash it yet. Like water filling up a dried-up creek bed after heavy rains. It courses through my body like the blood in my veins.” You shove the other shoe off and wriggle your toes around, appreciating the freedom.

You finally look over at Kun, and his eyes are transfixed on you. He looks at you with such adoration, one would think you had created his whole world and hung the stars in the sky for him to see by. (And perhaps to him you had, you know he had lit the way for you.) You wonder if he had been looking at you like that the whole time you spoke.

“You’re absolutely wonderful, you know that?”

“Only because you tell me at every chance you get.”

“Well I mean it,” Kun says, “you’re truly such an amazing person. There’s so much going on in your mind, but you hide it all away and you just blow me away every time you pour everything out like that. Emotions are usually such a mess but it's just poetry flowing from the deepest little nooks and crannies of your heart and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.”

“Oh, Kun,” you sigh, “I love you.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he professes, and a small, somewhat melancholy smile quirks at your lips. Though you wish you could continue to live in your fantasies, you know that the both of you would have to learn to live without one another.

“Maybe we should just run away together,” you tease, dreamily letting your gaze roam across your lover’s handsome face.

Kun huffed out a little laugh at the notion, laying his head back to look up at the sky and dream a little daydream, just you and him forevermore. As you watch on he seems to mull it over before shooting his head up, and hauling himself up onto his elbows.

“What if we did?”

“What?” you ask, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Run away!” There's a wild and delighted look in his eyes, and in that moment you know that for once he’s not teasing.

“Kun...” you say cautiously, trying to keep yourself grounded despite all the sparking little ideas of the freedom you would have shooting around in your brain, “don't you think it's a bit….well, extreme?”

“No,” he says, simply, “you’re not happy here, and when you aren’t happy neither am I.”

“But that would mean completely starting over, love,” you say, though your voice holds none of the reluctance your words do.

“Exactly!” Kun says, eyes sparkling. “Think about it! We wouldn’t have to be a Qian and a Y/l/n―families always at odds―it would just be us. Just Y/n and Kun.” His voice softens as he continues, and you find yourself imagining little snippets of what life would be like if you took this risk. “You’d be free to just be you….”

You lock your gaze on his, thinking about all the possibilities. No arranged marriage, no mother hanging over your shoulder, no role you’re always forced to play. No more having to hide your love for Kun….

“Just imagine―” he continues enthusiastically, but you cut him off.

“Okay.”

Kun stops mid sentence, eyes widening as he looks over at you. “What?”

“Okay,” you repeat, a giant smile beginning to crawl across your face. “Let’s run away.”

“Really?” Kun asks, and you giggle at the bewildered look on his face.

“Yes, really.”

“Wow,” Kun runs a hand through his already somewhat messy hair, making it stick up even more. “I honestly didn’t think I would even get this far. You’ve always been so restrained about us, I thought it might take a while to convince you.”

You tilt your head to the side, slightly taken aback. “Qian Kun, have you been planning this?”

“Maybe,” he says sheepishly, but you just grin even wider, if that was possible, and lean over to ruffle his hair.

“I love you,” you say, sliding your hand down to his cheek and drawing him in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you more,” he laughs before rolling away from the hand set on his cheek and springing up. He grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet as well before latching his arms around your waist and spinning you around in a giddy circle. “Put your shoes on my love, tonight we leave this place.”

You slip your feet back into your shoes, saying, “I should grab a couple of things before we go.”

“Of course,” Kun says, twining his fingers with yours. “If you go in the front I’ll wait for you under your balcony, can’t have anyone seeing you sneak off.”

And with that, he gave you a beautiful smile, all of the love he held shining through. You beamed right back, giddy and riding the rush of leaving everything behind and starting afresh. Perhaps running off into the night was the stupidest decision you had ever made, but you had no qualms about it. You were absolutely, completely in love, and maybe love made you blind to reality. But perhaps in the end a little blind and a lot in love would be enough.

@kpopscape

#kpopscape #nct x reader #kun x reader #wayv x reader #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #kun scenarios #qian kun #wayv kun #nct kun #nct imagines #wayv imagines #kun imagines #jungwoo x reader #pls pls pls work tags

44 notes · View notes

mybeautifulchristianjourney · 1 year ago

Text

Bowen's Daily Meditations

by Rev. George Bowen

"The water that I shall give him, shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." – John 4:14

"Art thou able, Christ, to slake the thirst of my soul? Dost thou know what strength of desire there is in me? Consider what seas of goodness have, in the providence of God, been poured upon me without in the least diminishing the force of aspiration within me. Whatever is given, seems only to stimulate my imagination and send it soaring a higher flight. Thus it would appear that in the very nature of things I never can know satisfaction. Give me everything that I can now conceive of, and scarcely will I have looked upon it before my conception has found its wings again; and where my conception goes there also goes my desire. How then canst thou give me water to quench the thirst of my soul? Knowest thou my soul and her thirst? Where hast thou that water?"

He that formed thee knoweth thee. Thy conception cannot exceed the conception of God; must indeed, even in its wildest flight, fall infinitely short of it. Thine is a conception of desire; his is a conception relating to the satisfaction of that desire. Wonderful therefore as thou art in thy mental constitution, gigantic as is the power of aspiration in thee, He that made thee is infinitely more wonderful. It would indeed have been the greatest mistake on his part, to make a creature with a power of conception which he himself could not over take. He has made no such mistake as this. All his perfections testify that he is able to satisfy thee. Let it be therefore firmly settled in your mind that there is no absolute and invincible difficulty in the way of your blessedness.

There is a disordered thirst that nothing can assuage. The torment remains, however often or abundantly you answer the call of the patient for water. Oh, if you could give him some water that would reach the seat of his disease, subdue his fever, and recover him from that mad disordered thirst, you would approve yourself the very physician that he needs. Now this is what Christ does. He knows well that if he gave thee all wealth, all luxury, all art, all renown, all success, all power, all beautiful sights and sounds, yet would not these unbounded largesses tend in the least to slake the thirst of thy soul for happiness. But the water that he giveth thee, goes to thy soul and cures the terrible disease that has made havoc of thy life; changes the character of thy desire; causes to spring up in thee emotions and affections corresponding to the wise and loving thoughts of God, and then satisfies these desires.

Has the water that Christ has given thee become, Christian, a well in thee? Hast thou within thyself a well of perennial purity and bliss, of beautiful thoughts, delight in God, willingness to do his will, peace, strength to resist temptation, love to your fellow-men, anticipation of glory? If there be in thee this inexhaustible well of all that is desirable, then hast thou enough not only for thyself, but for thy neighbors, for all mankind in fact. Yes, if thou alone of all the family of man, were in possession of such a well, from thee there might go forth streams to make glad the entire face of earth, to satisfy the entire wants of men. For this well in thee, is Christ in thee.

5 notes · View notes

libidomechanica · 2 years ago

Text

“But ashes from no Mortals, the Ravished”

Little long reasons dancing, like Hindoos, for that’s all thought with the deep tulips do thy Protestant point: slowly force

account to the chamber studied Spanish to be; saw the shown me—to declare. And, borne day appears’ her Eyes, infinitely

rest his dog, he hungry pikes a matched; they were be in the night, and thereof: now and told her words thee less ribs

and flying cake. Sat muffled motion: at eighten all my name from child, as men may Dine; then we do for one venerate

claim, poor rivals of Yule. Is it were first, and rest, no wing on the deep which is our decay. I looked rare as my

Lord, to the gray old age of pain because of Cathay. The cried, when your forth at the Belov’d us; nay oft, when she

turned your mind with glories curious name. But ashes from no Mortals, the Ravished and rain, you should be—that from

custom the world we elsewhere, and thunder his boys, where all things deep; a warmth from centre of ranks, the sort of European

flag, slide from this moment to rome? And system eats his pipe now ’gainst his desk, to drink they like a beam and peace,

and on Fortune’ be reader, never hope to proved at our cover—all, all other, fluid, affects her Hand? And I’ve

seen whisper’d Spirit, and glories on the applause but to bed: may ill be paid the pearl. Her feet. And, everywhere, and

the grow. The pleasure, would this new Glory is my wedding Toies, you open blots were oft dull goal of ill, woman if

she battle, wreck the long the barley Miller gain to crossed, I leaves upon the heart her brought the vale? Thy neck is that

found about the treats of birth, and friend, and fears untrue. But in the solid core of Nations of Being slowly to

the quiet sleeping on the bones shown the house, and Love clasp’d his fatal loss did every One, and having men rarely.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #187 texts #ballad

0 notes

yhwhrulz · 2 years ago

Text

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional for April 20

Tozer in the Morning SALVATION'S PRICE

Tozer in the Evening Man - The Dwelling Place of God - God Must Be Loved for Himself

GOD BEING WHO HE is must always be sought for Himself, never as a means toward something else.

0 notes

mattchase82 · 4 years ago

Text

Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, Confessor from the Liturgical Year (1904)

"Oh! how exceeding great is the glory of Aloysius, Son of Ignatius! Never could I have believed it, had not my Jesus shown it to me. Never could I have believed that such glory as that, was to be seen in heaven!" Thus cries out Saint Mary Magdalene de Pazzi, whose memory we were celebrating a month ago: she is speaking in ecstasy. From the heights of Carmel, whence her ken may reach beyond the heavens, she reveals to earth the splendour wherewith the youthful hero of this day shines amidst the celestial phalanxes.

Yet short was the life of Aloysius, and it had offered nothing to the superficial gaze of a vast majority, save the preliminaries, so to say, of a career broken off in its flower, before bearing fruit of any kind. Ah! God does not account of things as men do; of very slight weight are their appreciations, in His judgment! Even in the case of the saints themselves, the mere fractional number of years, or brilliant deeds, goes far less to the filling up of a life-time, in His view, than does love. The usefulness of a human existence ought surely to be measured, as a matter of fact, by the amount produced in it, of what is lasting. Now beyond this present time charity remains alone, fixed for ever at that precise degree of growth attained during this life of passage. Little matters it, therefore, if without any long duration or any apparent works, one of God's Elect have developed in himself a love as great or greater than some others have done, in the midst of many toils, be they never so holy, and throughout a long career admired of men.

The illustrious Society that gave Aloysius Gonzaga to holy Church owes the sanctity of her members and the benedictions poured upon their works to the fidelity she has ever professed to this important truth, which throws so much light on the Christian life. From the very first age of her history, it would seem that our Lord Jesus, not content to allow her to assume his own blessed Name, has been lovingly determined so to arrange circumstances in her regard that she may never forget wherein it is her real strength lies, in the midst of the actively militant career which He has especially opened before her. The brilliant works of Saint Ignatius her founder, of Saint Francis Xavier, the apostle of the Indies, of Saint Francis Borgia, the noble conquest of Christ's humility, manifested truly wondrous holiness in them, and to the eyes of all; but these works of theirs had no other spring nor basis than the hidden virtues of that other glorious triumvirate, in which, under the eye of God alone, by the sole strength of contemplative prayer, Saints Stanislaus Kostka, Aloysius Gonzaga, and John Berchmans, rose to such a degree of love, and consequently to the sanctity of their heroic fathers.

Again, it is by Mary Magdalene de Pazzi, the depositary of the secrets of the Spouse, that this mystery is revealed to us. In the rapture during which the glory of Aloysius was displayed before her eyes, she thus continues, whilst still under the influence of the Holy Ghost: "Who could ever explain the value and the power of interior acts? The glory of Aloysius is so great, simply because he acted thus, interiorly. Between an interior act and that which is seen, there is no comparison possible. Aloysius, as long as he dwelt on earth, kept his eye attentively fixed on the Word; and this is just why he is so splendid. Aloysius was a hidden martyr; whosoever loveth Thee, my God, knoweth Thee to be so great, so infinitely amiable, that keen indeed is the martyrdom of such an one, to see clearly that he loves Thee not so much as he desireth to love Thee, and that Thou art not loved by Thy creatures, but art offended!.... Thus he became a martyrdom unto himself. Oh! he did love, whilst on earth! Wherefore, now in heaven, he possesses God in a sovereign plenitude of love. Whilst still mortal, he discharged his bow at the Heart of the Word; and now that he is in heaven, his arrows are all lodged in his own heart. For this communication of the Divinity which he merited by the arrows of his acts of love and of union with God, he now verily and indeed possesses and clasps forever."

To love God, to allow His grace to turn our heart towards Infinite Beauty, which alone can fill it, such is then the true secret of highest perfection. Who can fail to see how this teaching of today's feast answers to the end pursued by the Holy Ghost ever since His coming down, at our glorious Pentecost? This sweet and silent teaching was given by Aloysius, wheresoever he turned his steps, during his short career. Born to heaven, in holy baptism, almost before he was born to earth, he was a very angel from his cradle; grace seemed to gush from him into those who bore him in their arms, filling them with heavenly sentiments. At four years of age, he followed the marquess his father into the camps; and thus, some unconscious faults, which had not so much as tarnished his innocence, became for the rest of his life the object of a penitence that one would have thought rather beseemed some grievous sinner. He was but nine years old when, being taken to Florence, there to be perfected in the Italian language, he became the edification of the Court of duke Francis; but though the most brilliant in Italy it failed to have any attraction for him, and rather served to detach him more decisively than ever from the world. During this period, likewise, at the feet of the miraculous picture of the Annunziata, he consecrated his virginity to Our Lady.

The Church herself, in the Breviary Lessons, will relate the other details of this sweet life, in which, as is ever the case with souls fully docile to the Holy Ghost, heavenly piety never marred what was of duty in earthly things. It is just because he really was a model for all youth engaged in study, that Aloysius has been proclaimed Protector thereof. Of a singularly quick intelligence, as faithful to work as to prayer in the midst of the gay turmoil of city life, he mastered all the sciences then exacted of one of his rank. Very intricate and ticklish negotiations of worldly interest were more than once confided to his management: and thus was opportunity afforded of realizing to what a high degree he might have excelled in government affairs. Here, again, he comes forward as an example to such as have friends and relatives who would lain hold them back, when on the threshold of the religious state, under pretence of the " great good they may do in the world, and how much evil they may prevent." Just as though the Most High must be contented with useless non-entities in that select portion of men He reserves to Himself amidst nations; or, as though the aptitudes of the richest and most gifted natures may not be turned all the better, and all the more completely to God their very principle, precisely because they are the most perfect. On the other hand, neither State, nor Church, ever really loses anything by this fleeing to God, this apparent throwing away of the best subjects! If, in the old law, Jehovah showed Himself jealous in having the very best of all kinds of goods offered at His altar, His intention was not to impoverish his people. Whether admitted or not, it is a certain fact, that the chief strength of society, the fountain head of benediction and protection to the world, is always to be found in holocausts well pleasing to the Lord.

Prayer:

Venerable old age is not that of long time, nor counted by the number of years: but the understanding of man is grey hairs; and a spotless life is old age (Wisd. iv. 8, 9). And therefore, Aloysius, thou dost hold a place of honour, amidst the ancients of thy people! Glory be to the holy Society, in the midst whereof, thou didst, in so short a space, fulfill a long course; obtain that she may ever continue to treasure, both for herself and others, the teaching that flows from thy life of innocency and love. Holiness is the one only thing when one's career is ended, that can be called true again; and holiness is acquired from within. External works count with God, only in as far as the interior breath that inspires them is pure; if occasion for exercising works be wanting, man can always supply that deficiency, by drawing nigh unto the Lord, in the secret of his soul, as much and even more than he could have done by their means. Thus didst thou see and understand the question; and therefore, prayer, which held thee absorbed in its ineffable delights, succeeded in making thee equal to the very martyrs. What a priceless treasure was not prayer in thine eyes, what a heaven-lent boon, and one that is indeed in our reach too, just as it was in thine! But in order to find therein, as thou didst express it, "the short cut to perfection," perseverance is needed and a careful elimination from the soul, by a generous self-repression, of every emotion which is not of God. For, how could muddy or troubled waters mirror forth the image of Him Who stands on their brink? Even so, a soul that is sullied, or a soul that without being quite a slave of passion, is not yet mistress of every earthly perturbation, can never reach the object of prayer, which is to reproduce within her the tranquil image of her God.

The reproduction of the one great Model was perfect in thee; and hence it can be seen how nature (as regards what she has of good), far from losing or suffering aught, rather gains by this process of recasting in the divine crucible. Even in what touches the most legitimate affections, thou didst look at things no longer from the earthly point of view; but beholding all in God, far were the things of sense transcended, with all their deceptive feebleness, and wondrously did thy love grow in consequence! For instance, what could be more touching than thy sweet attentions, not only upon earth, but even from thy throne in heaven, for that admirable woman given thee by our Lord to be thine earthly mother? Where may tenderness be found equal to the affectionate effusions written to her by thee in that letter of a Saint to the mother of a Saint, which thou didst address to her shortly before thy quitting thine earthly pilgrimage? And still more, what exquisite delicacy thou didst evince, in making her the recipient of thy first miracle, worked after thine entrance into glory! Furthermore, the Holy Ghost, by setting thee on fire with the flame of divine charity, developed also within thee immense love for thy neighbour: necessarily so, because charity is essentially one; and well was this proved, when thou wast seen sacrificing thy life so blithely for the sick and the pestiferous.

Cease not, O dearest Saint, to aid us in the midst of so many miseries; lend a kindly hand to each and all. Christian youth has a special claim upon thy patronage, for it is by the sovereign pontiff himself, that this precious portion of the flock is gathered around thy throne. Direct their feeble steps along the right path, so often enticed as they are to turn into dangerous by-roads; be prayer and earnest toil, for God's dear sake, their stay and safeguard; be they illumined in the serious matter before them of the choosing a state of life. We beseech thee, dearest Saint, exert strong influence over them during this most critical period of their opening years, so that they may truly experience all the potency of that fair privilege which is ever thine, of preserving in thy devout clients, the angelical virtue! Yea, furthermore, Aloysius, look compassionately on those who have not imitated thine innocence, and obtain that they may yet follow thee in the example of thy penance; such is the petition of Holy Church this day!

#catholicism #traditional catholic #catholic #christianity #heaven #love #jesus christ #its the truth #catholic saints #catholic faith #saint aloysius gonzaga

4 notes · View notes