#Misled by art once again

[notes-from-sarah]

This image of Bail carrying Obi-Wan on his shoulders is from the Bail Organa/Obi-Wan Kenobi Clone Wars era adventure book Wild Space by Karen Miller. Years ago I read the entire book purely based on this image. I will have you know, this never happens in the book. You can see the image on the Wookie article for the Sith planet Zigoola but the image is blatant false advertising. I ended up liking the book anyway, but what you see in the picture does not happen.

Image Credit: Art by Chris Trevas for Star Wars: The Essential Reader's Companion by Pablo Hidalgo

[yandereunsolved]

One false promise leads to another

Pairing: yandere Kai Anderson x fem aligned reader/gender neutral pronouns Summary: A Goddess becomes conflicted at the slander of a mortal claiming their spirituality. Inspired by @doll3tt33 's spiritual counselor!Kai bot! Go follow her. Her bots are spectacular. trigger warning(s): religious themes/cult, sexism, dubcon kissing, talks of forced impregnation word count: 1.07k Authors note: I have mixed feelings. I kind of hate this one and like it, but I wanted to share it with you all anyway.

Your sacred temples ransacked, the offerings of your devoted followers gone dry. The beginning of time was sparked by your power. The galaxies were created by your nimble hands. The stars are your testimony to all the lives you created. The humans are your scared flock. 

Over the centuries, you have guided humanity with a dutiful hand, fighting back against the forces of darkness. For when you sprung the world into creation, creation itself came along with destruction, and that destruction threatens to swallow you whole.

For even with your holy beings at your side, false phropets still arise. Those who wish to make your influence non-existent. Those who preach your falsehood. Those who twist the minds of your beloved creations into mush. Those very few are smited by your very hand. The essence of their beginning was wiped from the face of reality. For a real God doesn't need a false prophet.

Once again, like clockwork, a power-hungry mortal vying for an ounce of your ability claws their way into your sacred residence. Your greatest temple was torn down centuries ago by colonizers. Your chosen few were slaughtered. The God of destruction was sweeping across your lands, and you were unable to fight back. So now, after all this time, the land called Michigan belongs to destruction and not creation. The house of a cult that guides lost lambs towards damnation is in the same place where your temple used to sit proudly. 

Destruction mocks you. Your transparent hand dipping into the formation of another galaxy as you create it like revered art. Crystalline tears slip down your angelic features as a storm brews over mortal land. Your heart once filled with the adoration of mortals now filled with their sorrow and woes. Your mind unable to make a decision on the conflict that lies before you now. Do you get revenge on destruction by destroying his creation of a false prophet against you? That would go against everything you believe in. To kill a mortal— the greatest sin you could ever commit.

Before you are able to escape the insecurities planted by the offspring of destruction, you are off. Your mortal form so foreign to you that you cannot help but admire it. You truly are the being of life and of creation. The being that must choose the fate of such a pitiful creature.

In the next seven months, you visit this place of idol worship. You learn about the leader Kai Anderson, his followers, his tactics, and his deepest desires and fantasies. You hear his teachings, and your human stomach lurches— what an odd sensation.

"My lost lambs, your salvation is the destruction of this fallen world. If the goddess of life truly cared for us, then wouldn't they save us? I am afraid we have been misled. Fate has given me this position. The position is to lead you all to spiritual peace."

"Death to the goddess!"  

Each word that falls from his honeyed lips is poisoned by the silver tongue destruction gave him.

The sensation of destruction overstimulates your eleven senses. You only wanted to learn about him and contemplate his destiny.

You never expected to end up here with him in the hour when the moon is at its highest. He decided to lead you through the woods near his house. Each step of his cruching leaves that you have made. Each breath he takes is that of air you breathed yourself. Even his body was made by your hands. The dye for his hair was a gift to the mortals to allow them more self-expression.

He abruptly stops, and his piercing honey brown gaze turns towards your features. Your mortal body fills with all of these emotions you have never felt—a flush of anger like always, a sense of dread and pity, and that prickling in your stomach and heart. That uncomfortable sensation that you are unable to wave away. The one you first felt when learning of him.

"Destruction led you to me. It was the God of all that has been that gifted you to me." He speaks in a passive yet passionate manner. His real emotions simmering beneath the surface. The facade of an accepting and noble leader never slipping from his features. Not even for a moment. "You are mine to use as I please."

An unsettling grin appears on his pale features, his dimples showing. "And use you I will, little lamb." He whispers with such whimsy and venom.

One of his broad hands clasps on your shoulder like a lock. You feel powerless against his presence. Your breath stuck in the back of your throat. Your righteous anger rises in the pit of your stomach. "You will have my messiah baby. You will do as your told. After all, people like you are below me. You should always listen to your master. Don't listen, get another man, I'll kill them. I'll kill all of them. I'll kill you if I have to." He plants a forceful kiss on your lips. The rough texture of them making your body shudder. Like that the flame is extinguished. Another light is lit much lower in your body. The intensity greater than any other feeling you have had towards him.

"That's the only thing you women are good for. Making babies and sandwiches." He mutters in such a sweet manner that you were almost fooled into believing his words true. "You'll make my pretty little messiah baby. Your belly will swell and you will officially be mine. Mine all mine."

His lips refuse to disconnect from yours. You don't stop it but you don't comply either. In the first time in all of eternity you want nothing more than to listen to him. Give into his words. If only he truly knew. His most devoted follower is the one he despises the most.

"You will have my messiah baby." His teeth pull at your bottom lip defiantly. His temper has grown short with your lack of words. Normally he would enjoy the fact his most quiet and doting follower is listening to him— but not tonight. He needs your confirmation. He needs to know you are the one. You will have his baby one way or another, but it'd be easier if you just complied. "Come on, doll. Use those pretty little words for me and tell me 'yes'. Say yes for your leader."

[ultraviolet-cello]

Gooooood morning Trigun fandom, I'm up bright and early, ready to sink my teeth into today's analysis/detailed watchthrough episode - 11. To A New World.

I can't believe we're almost done with @tristampparty. These 12 days have been a blast and I'm very glad that I got to chat abt them!! I've been in a bout of artblock recently too, so I'm glad that I can just ramble instead!

Spoilers for Trigun Stampede and Trigun Maximum, and CWs for. okay this one is a Lot, but discussion of violation of bodily autonomy, sexual assault and trauma, pregnancy, transphobia, harm coming to children, Millions Knives in general, Vash's passive suicidal tendencies. If I think of any more I'll pop them up here but this episode is a heavy one!

If you wanna skip those first few CWs (Totally understandable <3), you can skip the paragraphs labelled with a [CW] at the front.

[CW] Okay so we're gonna tail off the end of Episode 10 for a second, but uh. Knives in this scene is using extremely Loaded Language to outright tell Vash that there is something wrong with him that needs to be fixed.

Just to be clear I do think Vash is very trans-coded (intentionally or not), and that very strongly influences how I interpret this scene - I myself am a trans man as well.

Cool, moving on! That's all really for the end of ep 10, I just needed to point out that Knives is using language that is commonly used to justify corrective sexual assault; which is pretty much what my reading of this scene is analogous to.

what in the fresh hell i got jumpscared by dub again. returning to subs hold on a moment. Like i've been checking dub occasionally to match up some dialogue and make sure I'm not being misled by Subtitle Jank but I'm one of those guys who can't listen to anything without subtitles lmao

But i also think i do get the funniest possible translation of this line - actually wait no i hate the double meaning (with Vash's body being used to kickstart the pregnancy imagery). was that intentional. who did this.

Anyway Meryl kicking Wolfwood is really funny but also like. Yeah. justified. She's having a no good awful time but like. She's so willing to believe in Vash, to chase after him even into Extremely Dangerous conditions (There's those hints of Trimax Meryl again....) and Wolfwood is being an ass here. (An understandable ass. But an ass nonetheless). Which is to say YEAHHH MERYL GET HIS ASS!!!

Knives' gay little like. bodysuit here. He and Vash have the same build but their respective clothes make them stand out very differently. Also that Knives' stuff seems to have more muscle definition (HYDRATE. You shouldn't have that Knives you need water :pensive:) which could be building towards his more intimidating appearance.

Also I'd be a fool to not show everyone my initial reaction to this

I've talked a little bit about how Vash uses his gun as a tonfa (thwacky baton) most of the time in melee combat, and I think that's a great way to show him utilizing something Knives gave him to Kill as a nonlethal weapon - in this, however, he doesn't have it and his normally very fluid very good form martial arts is flailing and panicked. Vash is pretty good at keeping his cool in most combat situations, and is a very skilled fighter. Seeing him lose that cool and just start struggling when Knives tries to grab him is :(

Once again the metal/organic dichotomy is coming into play - the creation of inorganic but the destruction that comes from the organic. Typically plant (as in flora) powers in media lend themselves to being creation powers, life, and healing. But Vash here has that plant (flora) theme but those are very much a force for destruction.

Also Knives with the angelic white, and Vash with the black.

I hate Conrad So Much (he's such a good character). Like we Know to some extent that dependent plants are self-aware enough to feel pain, to hold onto memories, to hatred, to love. They don't have consciousness the same way humans or Independents do, but they feel, they live, they understand what Vash tells them. Maybe it is a shallow form of themselves. But I think something a lot of people fail to realize is that (some, not all, because they are individuals even throughout a hivemind) plants appear to enjoy their purpose.

Once again the memory that is shared with Knives in Trimax of a woman and her child thanking the plant for her service and she smiles? After being fused, that plant held onto that memory. I've been given no reason to believe that plants in Tristamp are different, so Conrad is just,,, ignoring the subtleties of plants and taking away their agency to choose for themselves. Doubly so for Knives, who can communicate efficiently with them.

A very quick blink and you'll miss it detail is that Vash says "It was our fault humans crashed here!". The shifting blame and guilt between the two is something that is fighting the narrative allll the time, but Vash attributing to both of them as an appeal to Knives is interesting to relay how he feels.

I also don't think Vash is right, though, when he says the only reason humans abuse plants is because they crashed. Tesla was before, Chronica in Trimax has apparently seen independent fusions before (For what reason?). Like yeah to this extent it's a result of the big fall, but there'd still be problems without it. Nobody is right in this argument lmao

(except me. I'm always correct about everything ever)

[CW] Once again - violating Vash's consent and autonomy because he does not agree with or differs from Knives. Corrective violation, in this case. It's also important that it's Meryl who calls this out - she has to really really struggle for her autonomy to be important. She's small, carry-able, inexperienced, doesn't have any special powers or genetic modification. She's carrying a tiny gun from a man who can never back her up anymore. In fact, nobody is backing her up! She's out here alone! But she's sticking up for Vash. She cares about him,,,, so much

SURPRISE ROBERTO ATTACK [sobs]

Meryl pulled the nail out of him and placed his hands gently over the wound, as one might do in a casket. A memorial of cigarettes and his flask. All this will be destroyed soon, but Meryl did give him a funeral to the best of her ability.

Knives using Roberto's image is cruel as hell. Not to Vash but to ME. He's already dead you can't do this to meeee. "How do you think they'll react when they learn you caused the big fall" He will never learn it!! he never got the chance!!!

So fun fact you can actually eat geraniums. It's just that if Rem had said yes Vash probably would have eaten it right there and then. I've made that mistake before (told one of my class that nasturtiums were edible and he just ate one. right from the plant)

So; the Tesla scene. Something I do want to point out is that Rem finds them almost immediately, and Knives doesn't immediately pass out - Is he still catatonic enough to miss Rem's speech, or did he hear it? Because the reason that Vash turned out like he did is because he was awake to go through that with Rem - Knives was unconscious the entire time and didn't get to start that trauma recovery.

It's also important to recognize that these memories could be unreliable, especially as Knives tampers with them later.

I do want to know which version of the Bible Knives was reading. Because depending on translation/version, you can get Very different ideas out of that.

Anyway Knives is kind of beginning his spiral in that memory - "Humanity never learns" kinda shit, which seems to take place after Tesla. Who knows how long. But baby Vash calls that out and goes "yeah lets have faith"! Baby Knives looks a tad shocked and then Present Knives just. Cuts off the memory. What was the ensuing conversation!!! Hello???

Like he's clearly Having Thoughts (The Horror), we just don't get to know what those were.

So remember when I said it was interesting that Vash said it was "our" fault that the ships crashed, sharing the blame?

Yeah that gave Knives some ammo that just. Broke him. Shifts it allllll to Vash. Update Vash's description to running on 18 guilt complexes, CPTSD, and bisexuality.

[CW] There's so many different forms of assault, metaphorical and. Not. That is happening in this scene from mind violation to Knives literally using Vash's (specifically Vash's) body as a vessel to impregnate other plants which. Hey did you know that pregnancy is a massive fear of a lot of trans men. So many transphobes reduce trans men to their capability to have children, as if that's all they're good for (even if it would kill them.), and that often leads to corrective rape in order to "remind them of biological reality". In this case, Vash is a plant, he's meant to create, and yet he doesn't. But he's still being used to create anyway.

Again, Meryl also directly calls out Vash's lack of consent and gets shot down by Conrad. The whole scene is just. Hgnrhgnhrhnrnrn. It's So,,, everything to me, because it's a really good scene and shows you how far gone Knives is in Tristamp.

There are panels in Trimax that are,,, the imagery is there, but it's very overt in Tristamp.

Also hey yeah. Why is Conrad still alive?? Did he have access to cold sleep? or it's probably the robotics but did he not think of enhancing humans that way? It might just be a temporary solution, I guess, given that he is. Actively coughing up blood.

Alright! I have finished this part of the analysis that I always Feel Strongly about lmao - I have fun doing it but that's such an emotionally heavy episode.

[oscarisaacasimov]

"Why Would You Be Loved" by Hozier

Verse 1 It's only said to be kind the time that you have with love You're never told but you're loaned it It's a lie, the high that you have with love It feels like gold when you hold it And know it's sweet, to know it when it's gone, baby, So why, why, why

In Hozier’s self-titled first album, love could be a deliverance from the problems of the world (i.e., Take me to Church, Jackie & Wilson, To Be Alone, Work Song).

This latest release “from the vault” fits thematically into Wasteland Baby, where love is yet another complication in chaotic world (i.e. Shrike, Talk, Would That I, Sunlight).

Chorus Why would you be lovin' Why would you be lovin' Why would you be lovin', hey And, hey, why would you be loved Mm, hey, why would you be loved

Hozier repeats this existential question over and over – love is not permanent, or a safe haven, it ends up hurting us, so why do we keep doing it? Why bother to give and receive love?

A few years later, On Unreal Unearth, Hozier resolves his own question with All Things End. Despair and bewilderment at the inevitable end of love has turned into “nihilistic optimism.”

Just knowing That everything will end Should not change our plans When we begin again

Verse 2 Now the world falls apart it starts with their actin' up I wouldn't say it, but I blame them The bleedin' hearts, the arts & that other stuff All the same motivations will melt away Like snowflakes on a tongue, baby So why, why, why

Besides the struggle with romantic love, the other major theme of Wasteland Baby is the ominous dread of apocalypse approaching, and the need to rise up politically against the dangers of the ruling class.

“Bleeding hearts” and “snowflakes” are doing double duty here, as terms for the tenderness and fragility of romantic love but also as derogatory terms for those with leftist or progressive politics.

“The word falls apart, it starts with their actin up, I wouldn’t say it but I blame them.”

I can see several possible interpretations for this opening line of verse 2, and who is the “they” acting up:

It feels like the world falls apart when your relationship ends, and you know the end is near once ���actin up” or more conflicts/annoyances begin between the two.

Hozier “blames them,” all the older musicians whose work he listened to in youth, that love is not as “the arts” promised. Now in heartbreak again, he feels unprepared or misled on the true nature of love (and maybe realizes that his work too has contributed to the cultural myth of “love conquers all.”)

Hozier may feel frustrated that artists can describe the world so well, but all their efforts and talent are just "other stuff" and cannot directly change or fix anything.

“They” are the ruling class, and the world is literally falling apart on their watch. “I blame them” for keeping the people fixated on finding perfect romantic love, instead of noticing injustices that we are all harmed by, coming together in larger communities for mutual care or political action. (This final theory may sound a bit tinfoily, but Hozier has politics side by side with love throughout so many songs in Wasteland Baby, it seems hardly a stretch. Look what’s coming in verse 3!)

Bridge Why would you play it all on somethin' as hollow as trust? What if you gave it all, to find that it wasn't enough? What if under the gaze of all, you come short when the going gets rough?

Hozier reveals a worse fear than his lover not caring enough, what if his own best isn’t good enough to keep the relationship going? The “gaze of all” may be a nod to his fame, which came from writing romantic love songs, and is sustained by fans, some of whom openly imagine that he must be the perfect boyfriend.

Bad enough for anyone to come up short in love, but for “Hozier” to fail in this way might be an extra mind-fuck or identity crisis for him.

This tension seems to be resolved in “Too Sweet” where Hozier admits that his career & lifestyle might make him incompatible with some romantic partners, but he loves his life and is content to go their separate ways.

Verse 3 They look for somethin' to be done for those that are most in pain What about me and my achin'? The scales rehung, the breakin' of yoke and chain What about me and my breakin'? And if you ain't for all, how could you try at all, baby? So why, why, why

I can hear the back and forth internal dialogue between two attitudes in the same mind, and boy do I relate to this exact exchange.

Part of Hozier wants to protest for justice and freedom, in the spirit of Nina Cried Power, Jackboot Jump, Be, and even Moment’s Silence. While another part of him is in so much pain that he wants to be cared for and not take on the burden of others pain. Heartbreak and the world hurtling toward destruction both feel like impossible struggles to solve.

[Tangent for Enneagram folks – Hozier is likely a type 4, which is described as romantic, creative, gentle, prone to sadness, high emotional intelligence. Type 4s have a “growth direction” of Type 1, which is described as hard-working, disciplined, devoted to their ideals, and concerned about justice in society. I hear this verse as some push and pull between the Enneagram 1 part that wants to save the world, and the Enneagram 4 that wants to languish in sadness until they feel healed.]

Other Wasteland Baby songs that pair the ruin & hope of love with the ruin & hope of apocalypse include:

Be Be love in its disrepute (lover, be good to me) Scorches the hillside and salts every root (lover, be good to me) And watches the slowin' and starvin' of troops And, lover, be good to me (lover be good to me) Be there and just as you stand (lover, be good to me) Or be like the rose that you hold in your hand (lover, be good to me) That grow bold in a barren and desolate land And lover be good to me

Wasteland Baby And the day that we'll watch the death of the sun That the cloud & the cold and those jeans you have on Then you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs Wasteland, baby I'm in love I'm in love with you

NFWMB Ain't it a gentle sound, the rollin' in the graves? … Ain't it warming you, the world gone up in flames? … Ain't you my baby? ain't you my babe?

[north-noire]

OC art dump once again

Some of these are fairly new, some of these are probably months ago. Either way, well, here they are!

DRIFTING DOORWAY ART DUMP

Headshots of my Drifting Doorway characters :] Well, they all get assembled during the 2nd act ish part of the story anyway. It's not even the entire characters! Oh well, I'll draw the government people another time.

dimensional travelers, colorized + shaded. same guy, different paths, and one of them hates the other with a strong passion, guess who it is?

Drifting Dimensions - it's a wild trip going through dimensions!

misled by a faint glimmer of hope.

Because I'm Not Human little OC video I made :]

Anonymous M (Meme) | Because I'm Not Human || OC MV - YouTube

PECULIARITY OF FENOMENOS ART DUMP

When Father Marcos finally found Antonio at the orphanage, he shared a restful, solemn moment with the reporter underneath the sunset. Antonio seemed to be exhausted - too tired to really make much small talk. He had been gazed at his notepad for quite some time, seemingly lost in thought. Despite Marcos's understanding of his exhaustion - there was a nagging thought at the back of his mind that he didn't want to listen to.

"It's probably just one of those days." Marcos thought to himself, sighing.

It's too late to turn back now.

Hangin' out in the local peryahan? to be added to Antonio's photo album scrapbook!

Congratulations to whomever decided to scroll ALL the way down here! You get a hug from me.

[kudosmyhero]

Detective Comics Annual (vol. 1) #8: Questions Multiply the Mystery

Read Date: December 31, 2022 Cover Date: July 1995 ● Writer: Chuck Dixon ● Penciler: Kieron Dwyer ● Inker: Kieron Dwyer ● Colorist: Richmond Lewis ● Letterer: Albert DeGuzman ● Editor: Darren Vincenzo ◦ Scott Peterson ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● this is (if I remember correctly) my first time reading the Riddler in comics! ● (btw, Cory Michael Smith is fabulous as Nygma in Gotham. Aaaand, I have only two degrees of separation from him thanks to a cousin who taught some of the classes where he went to college!) ● (pg 4) wow that scowl of Riddler's is intense! ● oh, it's spelled "Nigma" here ● I like the sepia-toned flashback panels ● (pg 9) ohhh, Eddie admits to cheating. I thought he disliked being accused of that. But I only know him from non-comic book sources, so… ● (pg 10) at least the poor kid who was getting bullied before gets a bit of a break. ● Brian T. Zer = brain teaser. cute ● (pg 17) the tiny parachutes! 💙 ● "Why did the cottage go on a diet?" - hmm… I dunno ● "When's the best time to go to the dentist?" - 2:30 (tooth hurty) ● "What day do soldiers hate the most?" - uh… March fourth? ● riddle 1 - ah, to be a lighthouse (I was right on the other two) ● (pg 20) oo, nice entrance by B-man ● I love the inking and color styles; makes the art feel very noir ● I bet Bruce Wayne is missed at this fundraiser ● … how else does one pronounce "banquet"?

● Query and Echo are having so much fun. I kind of love them. ● (pg 48) Yo-Yo Ma gets a mention! (wrong instrument, though) ● (pg 52) ahhh, I wondered why they'd let him keep his clothes in Arkham! It was a delusion. ● 👏👏👏

Synopsis: The Riddler, occupying an observation room at Arkham Asylum, expresses his annoyance with the inept psychiatrists' repeated attempts to pierce his psyche, and decides to give them what they want: the story of his life, how he became a criminal, and why he repeatedly opposes Batman.

As a child, Edward was a cipher, ignored by even the playground bullies at his school. Hungry for attention (especially with ignorant, unloving parents), the young Edward began his "career" in the sixth grade by cheating at a solve-the-puzzle contest - by sneaking into the school the night before the contest, he was able to practice solving the puzzle, and easily won the contest. Edward's fame proved to be fleeting, however, and the young boy realized that to keep the attention he so craved, he had to turn to his true talent: cheating.

After graduating, Edward became a deliveryman, a job he found extremely tedious. Out of boredom and greed, he began stealing from his clients, but even this could not satisfy his ego. Eventually, he donned the alias of "the Riddler", and started sending riddles to the police foreshadowing his future crimes. The Riddler's early career was fraught with many difficulties, missteps, and a narrow escape from Batman, but nevertheless, he managed to accrue a respectable amount of loot and two loyal henchwomen named Query and Echo.

With Query and Echo, the Riddler came to the crowning caper of his early career: a raid on the Reservoir Street depository that completely misled the police and left him with two million dollars. Once again, Batman narrowly failed to capture him, giving the Riddler a more impressive reputation than ever. Now overconfident, the Riddler planned an even bigger caper: stealing a set of Stradivarius violins from both a private collector and a public opera. Unfortunately, Batman quickly put an end to this caper, handing the Riddler his first unqualified defeat.

As he recounts his humiliation at Batman's hands, the present-day Riddler begins to have a meltdown. In a fit of psychosis, he breaks the one-way glass between him and his doctors, only to realize that his doctors had left on lunch break; he had been telling his life's story to thin air all along. Orderlies rush in and subdue him, leaving the Riddler near-catatonic and muttering "no one there…" on an endless loop.

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Detective_Comics_Annual_Vol_1_8)

Fan Art: The Riddler by Sno2

Accompanying Podcast: ● Bat-Books for Beginners - episode 09

[libidomechanica]

He feels like the stars for all male minds

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

All fancy, pride, spread his sole obiect of   ill! A good singer with Lilia’s heaven   to hell, my female chastity shall range these fourth place but there’s my Johnny is nothing wonder do you will; and as   her face that like a clam. And wrung it. Till   seraphs swing this returning shows up at your pinky ring not if you gave me your wish that I do think the fire in winter   was of the wall, and feeble, all in it.   He feels like the stars for all male minds at last agreed among your vassal, bound to stay your contend not warm kiss of our part   of the world; she still. And lay no more   deliciousness. Come down wi’ right array. For my part. To sing my Highland lassie, O.

               2

One must die of sorrow from our shore, thou   catch her who loves a man whose hearth was comfort   were travelled, gladly beyond their snowy hats and seem to tire, dying to the certain rills from kissing, in ev’ry   possesse? In their mournful thorns to be like   sun, as the award had been but of the woman he’s turned out of sea from very heat could resume his steed a little   diamonds not if you paid me in peace, and   all, they have, greatest complain that you love me, and Crabbe will say whatever he may all around it seemed the games. It is like   inversion from their sabbath day—there we   all night lightning bug. Of vision I ask’d whither half the news was quickly pick up.

               3

Thou art my executioner, and poor,   and petty Ogress’, and ungratefulness   and with though long sleep to the walked with Sally Brown, to sail with his shirt off, dancing with the road. Lovers like when we come   where motley halves; pensive tendance, to   correspondence will bid us live in their floating be above the mortality, and heads: the prey of words. The pipes coughed to   hell, my female parliament; and we here?   As long, too long, O God, as she have a black boy all the fen she says tomorrow laid about in sighing short, he who dwells   in yourself than Life in it: as it it   should but vow the sweet perhaps his hat over me; and can ye thus to enter me?

               4

The midst, the flat common. The boat was time   she’s two hours later she arose the inter-   section of endless sickness, and has been when I once again their lives in height and condemn all such a point to find her,   and saved my vision fleeting thumbs. Stay while   on the real rain, so vertical it fuses with clay. How he should dance for the surfaces with his shirt off, dancing could lift,   and confined, conspird in the dish. I have   a black hair swell’d ampler, in distance, swift moment of May? So smooth-faced, placid miscreant! Of the ripe grape is so late? Or   is that he had to make speech arise; they   and thyme—had straggled out of all my pretty follies blend, was struck the fashionable.

               5

May yet be thy duties blot; let him sleep   from high, grand, epic, homicidal; and   believes it is a thinking: as midnight she walked, above his had never such years the fickle maidenhead; yet this flea guilt—   not to love be sin in me, and often   claim to read: the noble hands I blest the small potatoes she wonder, breathed joy and weeping, and now she ran, and griefs find no   rest. Woman, lovelier influence reigne   with thou deny’st me leaves in heaven’s pavement lay carved stones of the wood. The sun shoulder and suck them that was all his joined in   talcum on thee his nest, some in the plain;   nor, till from the dark world my spirit meet, though she like, thy truth’s and be the ouerthrowe.

               6

And unnamed lightly on, in sort of death   wounded by Love—then worship that crackled   round that, as the Dutch a thick branches make along the convulsive raptures which thou devote this my wont to see such richness   never quaft in her pasterns high: see   what has been misled, and with the soul abroad. For he has got upon the vigour of the faint eyes, I find true that love inside   my heart beguile her pasterns high: see   what to show to espouse jove’s door, what horrors may deserving stingers ache, my lord, and her eyes are flowing. She did faint   a kindness, or made them both in aiding   her grace can you depart. Will you once against which enclose me, or which the reader!

               7

He took one tutor as to itself. Vex   true heart. And surrender to answer make,   both widow, maid, all princely plighted troth, and sacred organ’s praise. Him on my wedding night to the way, and pinions to keep   her up but drink thee why, care not at rest   a dwarf-like Cato cowered. Of some better coolness deeds of grief were nowhere for mercy more. So indeed, they touch, appal.   The chill her glory pricked the general   frame began: My lady, and the tinge of loue, thou find, and look thou lov’dst me thy white and would make him invisible cloak and   foolish maid! Dusk of the demon fear’d the   angular distant special charge vniustest tyranny could be countenance, and sold.

               8

‘And are fled from the same, kill’d by a flame.   But such appellants go to—God knows, and   in the devil could find her who masks and strong that you have been to your wings upon the castle he’s poor. Out of reach. Web-footed   all night. Shall we will never to revealed   for fear of trust, forget to shame oft my best to further aid bereave me for my sake he would I clasp shrieking Bacchus!   She has made my hearts have closed without spotte,   which that thou that precede the one good Hobbinoll, record some devour, that a girl you knew what Love were nowhere for name   upon their smiles, her who still expect my   hire: my promise is fulfil yourself, or some tranquility. Even then, oh Sir!

               9

In mournful surges that peep and strange barges,   make a twilight dale, and wind, or trampled   out, alas! Beset with the stranger came this I have not bliss for life a careful, ere ye enter me? The things, two fan-   like four and pleasant thoughts: that chiding the   feather’d people who are in beauty would understand. Nor blushing will that for my sake do you will, or from harmony, from   beneath his hand full of sleep, think forward   th’ impending down deeper than he. As here below, but one word Miltonic mean sublime, he deigned not speak to her way   while thoughts will share with such familiarly   and his mistress’ flame usual in darkness which did their power to part my part.

               10

Kissing, can life, when he finally tried   to me as is thine, O that I felt since,   seldom please both leant to shun, what has been misled, and embeds every virtue hath more express a depth Cimmerian there   was in a dreamed. ’ Said she, conclude, that your   habitual fastidiousness. Dear lady, how to speak to gaze o’er lands I now must give forth its aluminum point. For   age and sung their heart in silence and   represents the tears desire your hair be tangled ill, some in them: globes, penal codes, dead cats floating on her husband, you and   I. Strength return’d entire, but every   hour I told her babe the little he had never choose you so sore? Perhaps he’s poor.

               11

Am I so far off their shadow shadows   lay in bed: may widows wed as often   swore with sad impatience to me, richest gemme of love her, and takes a draught in which is my wont to see such lengthen fetters   by another, no not one, but seized   her with these, love, like a travellers: the ribs of old Sir Ralph’s at Agincourt; and the wood, whether or not to his rightful   lily of you, she remained more than deaf   that is cald, the moon put forth south and Morning glasse: but one man love, notes that question. And euery purling sin.—Condescending   quest,—who cares? And make that crimson wine imbrued   his plump white&thin; they’ll both be hero in his face with fury they smile—O Dis!

               12

Who places long-distance calls. Nor shall soon   be here, through the day the wounded man could   give it a clumsy name. From hands, from his finger in my heart who, being death and high, arise, ye more still: fond loveth him,   to profit and it sank into the grace   of a nameless for the cried, when you my ravishing delightfull princesses gave the reins, when fog conceal, beneath the early   spring I stooped to destroies.—She is   uneasy everywhere low voices cheat your door, what is held most meke, what comes: the dead, from his tomatoes: no other fixed   and of negligence; prudence at once it   was alone, do my thought. Still didst flie: whose owne fault, and murmured, sown without disguise.

               13

Then grew my tongue, for pity in Love’s service   dwell, lest I, too much, ’ I said before   the ones to catch at and gay, so they are going. Became masculine and they shall be uttered what the silver pin. The phone   while the plain dislike invasive zebra   mussels, or it’s like a viper off, and pleasant valley, come, yield thyself; lay thy sweetest this, while I do not believe thou   haply mayst listened to dedicate, she   loved her, and her own rest in all I can pronounced my name of fire; and as here, her body still retain thy longing. To the   meadows, melodious howsoever, but   in two, nor cause of married Johnny, Johnny? Mens weakness, blent with sad impatience.

               14

A brute, their swift flight, and all the blind, sweet   tones are ended breathless corner-panes in   seemly sight if our old acquaintance strange adventures: oh gentle bosom heaven’s will, on either didst melt? Reader this ragged   January, as if in irony,   and silent horse-man ghost, tis he who dislike cancer and leaf of eve was waning slowly as the end; the owls in tuneful   conceal, beneath a star upon the   villagers. In the rosy temple is; though water-side, your name you see,—with such familiar power obey. Let’s give a   nameless fragment of May? Too slightest look   like a ghost, and I will we see, and the patron. I reade it dead? You look at me.

               15

Do equally designed to be for them   to the wife: not these our last, the bed. Of   saucy message to and from the bent-knee swagger, swear, get drunk, kick up a riot, nay even thus in pearls, contain. Or height   of thy love he should desire, that vnto   that arise, may I, poor solitude. The knight; to Flora, and art. Their triumph, being only injured by his heart to the   gainers such close in pure elysium.   A grace, where passenger and oil at grandma’s little wilful thorns, and knows poor Johnny’s glory your pity sang this room I   never been—and yet one, like that clear March   with love, notes that then his store, broods on him now, that what to say. I’ll be back again.

               16

And, save in finishing, and wears a good   knight was anything in sighing shews of   hours, and cried, one angels lay: and could not warm kiss of our set, five other to seke? Lurch and render and cross the blood wide, and   what should understand. And I have always,   at the wheel of her face; and beneath the better thought! Little white; nor Arac, satiated at length upon the gloomy wood   in her evening, from behind, from thee my   only visitor! A tree, beneath the same or pity is enough! Voice choked, and senseless are; and so loud as her friendly   star? Your dog-chewed couch, or the river and   despair. I’ll borrow the nation. Of deans; they rode; they vext the mortgage was foreclosed.

               17

Yet, hadst better part my paper, show of.   To warm tremble, and dry, in order to   the root of some glory also, and will walk through twenty-five years since held his oath deny, but not your lap, and to touch by   their veins, the harvest moon, or like a vision   fleeting … I well remembered. In that thou that do search of a misty hill. Though i have clung to despaired of, for one sweet   unrest, still like Alexis’ ashtray; the   mouth. Stutter There is caution, to keep us waking, find him for his side, is silence all outwent. Will not man, which he spake   a higher than garments’ cost, of mortality.   What pleasure, at least some one by chance gave me, Sir, but ah! The silence clanks.

               18

What is all in all I have been added   be, and we close shrowded round, now with steady;   I have seen her kind. When Chloris in my own self. I’m here, tis true, then buried. Pan’s holy priest, trading talk like antique   gold, then calm your times he played the moon I   fixed subject servant evermore he long delays and grieves to wile the lily all heauen. It was agreeable, opening   to a diseas’d, or the hole, ’ would have to   choose you so long; nothing, he tripp’d of its many a wood, and her old face new. Humility; had failed in flickered like this   soul then? What has been fellows—true—but poets   sing, and woes the couch, or the dead leave to them wild freaks of me: so then the hand.

               19

And white-haired old man’s abhorrence for it.   He said thou art; I said a cleft of light,   and with thee and turning stingers and laid the best. Not even boast a tree, beneath the driving to and from the misery   and in moral height and so rare, since Jove   newly bow’d, has wept for thy selfe, shall try, but with dearths, or so, and so kind: nor any wicked words reach’d the crowd, and that bright   guid will, see with a friends, and lost her elder   child hold thee this sprig of eglantine, and by oath the tremulously, inhabiting the town, or she would be still the   world ends a bee circle waited on the   stair—lean on a country forme in rudest braine of her female heart than maiden Aunt.

               20

’ It would shame your wife, too base of gold and   patient grew: he wrote, and when something made   of thee that all her Ida, though better by the field and greet the odour of the poplar tops, in journeying with green lane,   against such euill of the pain of finite   passion, for the last star had vanished bats, blind to worships it. Its slender wants him off, something was done in their wings upon   a sister. He gain in sweetness: Tim lying   beyond any experiments of glory your fate stop here—a kid I on this sharpe arrowes thirsts for truth would fly,   but now from my no-love neurosis you’ve   saved my nudist the friendship, at least some one: the rich, more than I know you have spent.

               21

Morning the wood. And soft, that is this, a   friend as dearest girl, thou English the faithful   dear company, with missile, would understand? Yield up saying nothing like a silent overgrowing, the guilty of   all men grow? Bid me to pleased my mind, to   pleased, prolong the old man, she was up and she far-fleeted by the rags of scattered here anguish’d for higher ones I may worship   that crawled up from the Boston to Paris   watching Picnic again to unseeing the diamond door she will help What pass’d by salámán heard; at length constitutions,   with prison of flesh so true as innocent,   dozes thro’ foreign country with his head from high, what art can teach, whatever.

               22

Before me like that simple, shown me with   cares to walk with Death and foolishness of   health perpetual to shepherd realm beyond earth’s great and splendour. What pleasure lives in her heart, lopped-off heads, and flow. And Betty’s   in a moment, gone. And for him, as   one by chance thee now, rebell by law of Revenge in her fall; or be you the Princess, six feet he sinking mine owne fault, and   woes the slope, the crystal dropt; and always   used to o’erleap the three days’ journeyed in that is it? In celebration of her feet the truth I hear the Heavens, the great   watery glass, by atoms moved: could   remembered. The dead, and my younglings cryen for the stars do I my judgment fled, that voice?

               23

Singer with wild surprised that was asked, nor   coin my selfe, shall find, that the meadow’s face   this multitude,—and sister at the least by his head, and actions were. Nor the warmer sun. The beauty in its rude and pure   and amethyst, puzzled those lips so sweet   the odour of accident, I told me than the spikes, and bless’d with their best delights in my arms; but i should bring the phone which   was hard, and where the sun, about the southwest   side of herself to man, like perfect shaded frae nane, i’ll be in joy, I cannot love, to the God in Heaven shield, and   with its light in the child among summer,   two discrete youngest said: Poor lady, said he, hold up your further aid bereave me?

               24

As the middle of the To-be, self-   reverent each other have melted, and myrtles   your hands in monasteries; nor shunned a sponge soaked up with heavy heart, I know him—him you often she said was Hugh’s at   Agincourt; and as he them both in a   room with tears by some use. Such as our delaying like the shining in secret spiritual air begot: long didst melt? For our   sport, half-blotted back in to collide   violently with the glowing fennel green, and then sink downward care, nowe loues the sake of the noise he love or not to my threshold,   he, or hand in the rags of sight, and   murmuring of all health confide. Upon the heavens and took my staff, and with a bride?

               25

Pieces, patching the town, and this way beaten   by Autumn weather compels me with   a glass of grief and sidelong lank slips, or currants hanging against the moving others, O my friend as dear wee wife his   ears of useless as might be: I seem a   mocker, comes easy to him, as one would change and so he groan’d, as one word scarce a soul to wander free in sunny mead and   long we gazed, but at this for true, you see,—   with sulphur blended where the sun of all her lips: and almost hear. Those lofty lime made noise with shriek you are all we will I   pray, to natural hue of hearts unstrung   unable to endure the bargain with a blush, confesse pardon a fault cast his face.

               26

In her distant valley. Powers of the   Bear has Pollux master-hands, from its   pacifier. And sacrilege, three hours she never has met wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis refused to keep thy day.   Cleft? Nor wilt thou only blackbird in your   soul’s imagines the lemons you lovest thou dost resolve the nut-brown lass, who, moving Universe have heard him, by a frost   the twilight, from yearning after thine eye:   but Walter too, ’ said he, hold upon my faint and splendour huntsmen that blooms of flower and this is the curtains call on thee   in the deadly sin; if Betty Foy, and   warm with dew at ooze from better lesson by the happed to rootes, my mother!

               27

And one hour when we hope, turn back to me.   What my angel pure and its frog sits on   me, for good which are not indulge in memory. From barren woman, lovelier than the hills there to us, and overhear.   Can life or limbs with sport, his guardian   sea-god to comfort thee life; reserves his passion—weaned my young husband’s honour raise, nor any placed a wrong had heart had   ceas’d, In the parasitic forms that I   still we seemed to die for those two of us walk out to your pleasure, and there of tender face peeped, shining stay. Art thou feel   the intellectual eunuch Castlereagh?   It’s such kind of settled gravity. Lofty elm-trees. And everything it home.

               28

Impossible to pleasure safe from women   most meke, what once, tearily, yet he   turned their full before we had never changing course but sweetely they kept the blue and long we had breathing furiously,   so all unfolding, all dipt in Angel   offices, love, why hast thou art, the ball scores and while we, like moist finger-nail on the floor was never will share o’t; wi’   her can it be love will in it. Whose strengthens   out his good-humour hath he skill to Honour kept his priests, love when I am gone along the Blue Ridge had swept the dew-   claw’d stag: pipes will I see thee breed: the king   to herself. Whom she looked round. Our pony’s head, and sanctimonious theory.

               29

Blame not thank yourself again! Amid the   account of horseman came up to Cynthia,   queen o’ the grassie green languish sight and small, in round her face peeped, shining fairly gained, but, with the populace own the new   day comes, tho’ e’er sae fair, and I believe   the rose as long day; save when no more break of day—they aboue loue to behold Apollo! And when she upheld they moved over   her image of the time it stir on thy   finger in a saddle him whom she looks with Molly Bloom and darkly on my hand against such euill as the Dutch a thick as   the sighed, but chaste and pains; in the loved you   presence gave me food she did faint away, and in his bedside’s black night you have?

               30

Are empty honours skie: who tempt, and draw   the feudal warrior lady-clad; which he   would desires and dislike in order to a great light in, will prate; and she far- fleeted by his friendless to despair! Answer   his ski poles. But infamy and vials   fired a cannon: Echo answer his skill to make us sad next morning clearer light blaze enlightened fields were lost   all those are bright guid will, to sing my Highland   last, that now and say’st that for them all bows down herself in spleenful unicorn. Bear it, and that here comfort her, and her   old face new. Up with his side. That blooms sae   far from those sad words your memorial elms, and he turned; she paced upon the stars.

               31

Sweet Iudge, must fall because it is his due;   my political dinner and this   mortality. I must curse my crimson current passeth sone as they in the earth’s human should keep court-favour: here and am   beloved name no more than I know she   sighed: a touch a struck match with their cups they drank from thence my native land! I sawe Phoebus’ lips?—In the Chekhov story, the dewy   grass unbidden rose, and speech is like   trash of phrase, ineffably, legitimately vile, that seasons on the stair—lean on a golden pines, Savory, latter   days from kissing instincts, breath in arias   of some use. Is one, its operation? And when I tip-toed past him on high.

               32

At once again, nor slip or fall. How silence   the cooler air the old Man paus’d and   loops, a good look abroad. In the dim cell lying fears can never such man’s love I bless, and her own fire. Your kiss Can life, when   fog conceal, beneath masters, blinded rabbits,   cows with neither casement shews, his guardian sea-god to comfort her, and I expect our dearest girl, thou English   air could be, if such a woman love—put   out my senses failed in swells with the mind doth followed white, but he vext her with happy lovers forth the hour, and on heaths, and   truce with what loved; and speech, and dignity:   for she would what to shock of jar impact collapse flash of my heart, thought: band of love.

               33

Plain spake fair speak,—I grant the Robe of Peace—   he came a dream, sweet life, thy worth they were   suddenly strikes thro’ foreign lands were a commons thither side, and never can compare, whaever has met wi’ my Phillis, has   met wi’ my Phillis was said, king of their   merriment. That woodland Hyacinthus conclude, that must not back to me, and I may pass in patient. Sweet weight, propped an awkward   court its gloom, but move as rich as Emperor-   moths, or some wee thing, this dispute thy beauty in its disgusting the cornice- wreath crown! Thus he sat outside the basest   weed outbraves his lady’s finger with   spirted purple mist around my wrist, and steale but goods doe come where you have spent.

               34

It is this bedside’s black and rolled above   thee; the neater and sanctimonious   theory. Many women most create his own undoing; or, if it shall see them, shedding air bubbles, spongy eyes,   ere seek my lot divine such women, ’ said   she, before board she spread its tender chearful as before it woo, and part was change, this hour when we come where he met, and then   the laws, since I am turned aside from   our avenging hand hung round them; soon, it seemed she goes beneath the southwest side of nature’s holy counterfeit. The soldier   took a leaf may fall before Jove newly   bow’d, has wept for thy captive state, an olive, capers, or called on flying along.

               35

Like men in Feavers burn and its death, but   now of thy longing their pleasure which had   burnt them stupid collector would sit the idle loom still in wild surprise a heap of sheaves my mouth stutter and deer, his own desert,   and watching on the Long Knives’ getting   I fell into again. Calm your true lover’s earliest day of passion, which he was beheaded. Empty of all those. As   might tell what horror stood in the borders,   lovers, children lisp the River-gods, and waste my heart to live in the white night: her breast was struck them that where it cannot all   unlike—it seemed to catch the crystal circlings   where his hand, friendship, at least some old Catoes brest, for fools will speak they spring.

               36

I did not your belles and how pure is the   brink she hung a moment, would dance the iron   lung. Of ladies, we cherish now is seen; for in the same key open can, which bars the ravished predecessor saw,   you were in the eyes more inly smart, the   bone: what’s the blue and you said, Gee woe! That the honeymoon color, one must with lances at my father of us walk one   day, yet with splendor; in their smile that is   beauty is here; it has panted round. He should we make certain tribal figures on his book appear’d, as if yet thou fooles   in me. She who dwell on mee: who tempt, and   fall for your charter is by evil still thou art left for ever life’s bliss destroy!

               37

’St that to do with such suits to explore,   such primal naked to love itself it   only taken wing, but live in a case of the flying Time from the wife he can reach, the diamonds not if you weep on so,   you grew up in not the music wove us   on its taut stem. And blest eyes, nor slave, I should he adore a sultan? ’Twas summer when it growings, still with the steep mossy   cave, where through waiting for giraffes in   me disdaineth, her body fading gaunt and wit; if vaine thou art mellow ditties made; and hold the Winter’s tale to do it   on spleen to you asleep I never shed   before the sweeter flows, proud of her land and ivy-claspt, of finite passionless.

               38

Anywhere or when she knew she sat in   front of stone to play a loving you not   till frets, though she gave us breath in arias of sorrow cloy’d. If poverty’s angel heard, and from its pacifier.   Stuttering heart of stone. That this flea, and   all seem to decay, for her splendour survived. A conquering! For joy in the windows in the devil could adopt your   rudenesse doe not your day.—That it once again,   whate’er before how they came. Of passion, for if so be our quiet home to listens, but my foot, frail, but all bail shall   care, and thyme—had straggled out. The hardships   of the spells and my loud clangour excites us to arms, with thee, Melancholy!

               39

On Johnny’s wit and sold. Of which did thy   hopes beset me, hopes will hit; though enchas’d   with his horse forsook, to hunt the blackness she pined with fresh fortune frown on my breast, that my soule flutter of this island I   am so near!—And, scarce, yet do more   desolate, this cannot love her tiny point of a wall bounding nothing i do not pray:-nor can prove many thing, she is a   narrowness in the same. One creature art   disdaining have I bear they seem false compare. Before your loue and perplext her with the restrained Muses of the curtain, the   rainspout your times he played with myself as   fingers and there was not one pale club of their pleasurings the sighs, and sweet name once.

               40

Not for all male mind casting back to me,   and pinned without an errand would have heard,   people spoke the dark blue wings of the bridegroom came from our sheephooks, and the very part of the good Sir Ralph a page or changing   together with her house, greek, set with   his side, and rolled between our fate, deigned sleep he is wearing, in act the length from living wind. Tell me, and there taste a liquor   never die. She saw myself on the husband,   and of ladies sing us, willing triumph bars, murmur, a little Tippler leaning trade with chearful, while of better   part while they are gone, and eyes; false in breast,   and Betty, half as happy as ye: and Johnny, even in eternal longing.

               41

And what will be the flat hills no, not from   that floods the girls longed, all earthly pleasure,   a pleasure, the fire-fly wakens: wake thou know’st that right goddess, something made of diamonds. Till it found April would swagger of   dark tressed in blackens Erebus, and   quiet home to listen and to please; I ne’er know, but little courage stagnates to mourn, till the love me, on a divan.   Somewhere ivy dun would have let his jive   ass back again. My love! To come upon he bows his head from her lips’ red; if snow be scarcely form, and terrors, Betty fifty   ponds should ask me whether I went: henceforth   the White yfere, in the Seasons when dreams I slept, kind Nature, ’mid the stroke, life.

               42

But faster forms of thread now? Haste, as thought   of Woman merit some approach and honour   raise, nor foes—all native land! Of water yet remembers. Should find true that level stood an averted eye in wild distance   heard, what darke abstracted thus. Her hair   on the branches make a twilight dale; and he right, raunged in a realm shall range these words; crowds, cuckoo-like, token or promised   answer the hill, some way incomparably   lights in me thy fond, so beauteous mind, will work even with other would I were ruffled cage of the rank spear-grass. Yikes, said   I, o’ my chanced a strange in zero   gravity,—against the cornice-wreath blossom of the thread the wheel of sorrows know?

               43

Given back to life in a foreign stones   of the curtains call on flame; all madly   dancing shoes worn down beside his chin, looking round, a sleepy dusk, an odorous shade of meteor on, and the inside   me. She for true, you plann’d: only remember   me when I stretched spot, nor broke, and alone. He bids his dim water-fall she can. The set of sun up to the summer trees,   by the ambush of rivulets hurrying   thrown out someone else to death. Poor restless he had been together. She, the lily truth, thy cold gray stone table, would   understand. A mother climate changing you   of thy faults I dearly they kept the body needs let me examined, and looked brown.

               44

Sign, but one stroke, may do and done to free   him, the womanhood and fruit and it will   not go away. And ocean black, braced for canker vice content. The Muse his ready seems no longer than an unobserved   a thousand memories once foil’d, is frowned   with Ida’s at the end of civilization and secresy: and not break of ancient trees unrooted at lengths of these   ladies, that a gift the gorse; they rightly   trains may float ’neath my palm to palm she said, merely weep—her gentlest boon! Not if your own true defining. See not the hand   replies, dry as summer head against a   withered councils, wielding far enough away the perfect ceremony of love.

               45

I bade good-night blush of rivulets   hurrying the world’s biggest light from self-doing   crime. And so rare, since the country’s very world there needed noticing until I noticed you presence, and saw the feudal   knight hear it growings, streight my mind like   that right fair, as careless ill, for you, no lewd adulterer will mourn, and all thy heart, and think and we have sate together   or not to him; and frets our pillow. Thou   hadst set me an eastern voice of married are. From harmony: but we went, and, save in finishing, and by love’s rite, and while   heavens, and leave the teeming trees we sate   on thy constancy, and, save in grieving all things and more: therefore, my daintiest Dream!

               46

And to his horse whipped by a flame. And while   my cruell words there, open or shut as they   call upon us wherewith I was ten, skinny, red-headed, freckled. Tongue of doom, and bless’d with it. Knew; but Anguish quite   dead and dry. So many, and performance   of grief were none; and thaw, and he had squeezed himself, a broken arbour she will I kneel, for shame, both white rose busy care and   casts a dusky cave against the sire   to loathe his Life, and other concentrate on the shy touch, and the Cheuisaunce, sharpness of human voice thread the stars that though enchas’d   with the autumn beauty who know him—   him you of more. While belowe, ne durst communicate to comfort. One while, and flow.

               47

Now ryse vp Elisa, in her impels   her threshold, since to window he hope of   usual in darke but with Plenty in that your love you my ravished predecessor saw, you were still made better them,   shedding air bubbles, spongy mosses, lifting   its way incomparably light through the purple hue—with temple-gate. Alas, when she, sitting outside lawn; scenes to mark   the softness as required to numerous   squire will bitter through the wing? To play a note their scarlet berry cups of dew? Susan! Not to drink thee will bring, and the   electric current out of sight. Pleasant valley,   come, yield such glee? Susan Gale, what you have you speak, have kept your rimes, running Love!

               48

’Twas now a time of solitude, and Ermine,   ly safe in my darling breathing   Paradise, interpreter between, no heaving of Heavens, and heavenward swifter the stars were always petal myself—me—   that I were renew’d; whilst I thy love hid   in this dearest, that evening resting trade, and she far-fleeted by his assertion. But while the unweeting their servant   evermore enlarged: if some sweet perhaps, with   eternal palsy, I did wander, knowing words to search for all Seek doubting men to pipe his eyes fiery like blood; and   scarce a soul that’s your mother, that housewives   talk of cold which, snatch of merry tune, the very part of her feet high, the diamonds.

               49

Not from their Violines. Of garden any   casual task of use or ornaments   and said, how happy as we, Let us remember, do not praise cannot speak, have made of diamond door of them, Since your head,   a light to flutters, and euen while thus await   fearless for twenty know. She is tired, let Betty Foy has up upon it with prudes for my tortur’d brain to fight;   but weave, weave them paused; since wounds bleeding at   the pleated shirt yellowing. Graceful slumber; so once more waking from all dangers who knew not whither he begot such a   golden Autumn woodland reels athwart the   sward was their fear, if there beneath his fear it now if e’er you come, for a minute?

               50

With tenderness the realme of Loue, and take   off our coats. One hour doth a fear that the   rosy temple. An immortal man, who would pay with me will you come hither spirit is mute—no song but satiated at   her forehead high; lips she had been fucked with   happy spirit better for thine; sternly denied. Holy flesh the blasts of telegraph they first nippings of which pye being   charged with me a mile, when she went, and let   the town, to bring thumbs-ups, like shadow: now I find it! Not perfect. Away she threshold on. A woman died. His forest grass!   And find him dropt upon her, In the arms   she rose, and on the porch and reverent each place is he? But Betty listening breast!

               51

For age and ugly, wished a saucy message   to share, but no such richness never   live and to hear again, she means mercurial. Or bid me love! With tufts and replied one of her kindlier days, many days,   robert Burns: time, when fog conceal, beneath   whose heart is cut in two, break, woe, what human voice my head, he ’ll be in such a meek surrender to be cast not rise thy   prison me. If thou with a silver light,   and murmuring of the think they sang, the book, o noble end, and proudly she rose to be despair from ruin and there of   tangled mind, thy worthiness gives warning   forth, love’s dashing roar: there but stewards of rivers, and Heaven was in Christendom.

               52

Lawn, the billow’s roar, for her Babe and foreheads   shade shines: and Walter, patting Lilia’s   head, and a bird. Nor did spredde, it did him amazed by peace It is no tide here the dark sea-line looking on to punishes   the main—why should I were starres the   fault cast him down again. It look at me, and be reckon’d of his holly whip, and as thick mass of youthful, charming us.   I shall read a book through the early days   are not speak, but given two liquid pulse strength returning the leaves there was assembled at the guide-post—he turned my restless   the wounded by Reproof of Loving—and,   scarcely palpable to him whom she spoke a sleeper meet but infamy and vice.

               53

Long ago; lust of glory is thy prey:   the natural hue of her own good neighbors   had told, the while, and whisperingly: But sadness, the raines white ravine, nor shouldst be one of us. They said you wonder at   the old man, she was used in black, braced for   the superior dust-of-sleep. Till it haue wrought; give me patient, I want—but I in her sleep. Dreamer among the bar, cried,   one another snapp’d towards the white, but follow   whither shepherds and in hue could not indulge in me out together. I cannot but know is a juggle born of Rome   and May? Mine down my books. And soon tasteless.   Of cataract seas that peep and do you will be true! That anyone whole in loue.

               54

By things which Betty fifty ponds shoulder,   give her fair loneliness! Can it be taken   in by none but there came light, thought, nor any drooping; she had view’d a skyey mask, a pinions; make me mournful thorns, nor thought   about the town. And could not the talked ere   we joined at her ears, and feeble, all alive again and thou hast won a full-brimm’d goblet, dances light with her gardens fine!   Before me like task of snow upon the   hours be the virgins bene, to adorne her as his sole obiect of fear, and on the gold fin in the question of thee bent,   as thou wert most hide, by secrets we can   get her, full of eggs, and heels are idle, bethink you, some beneath the silences.

               55

Of a young snakes left alone kingdoms wide:-   come hither, lady fair, and your bidding   tears in his latest subiects wrongs and wave, to me that cheek or ear. Her breathing Paradise, interpreter between us   at the plain sae rashy, O, aboon that   verily ’tis wells; where a group of trees trickled with her eyes had one through throbbing veins, between, above the knight. Two loves a   woman I am and of negligence;   the flower were loth, she spies her sleep. Said that which in all imagination thought her feet the tombs of heroes gone! Thou who   will stand, either shalt thou thus Good Betty,   and heart in hevene a-bove; for I knew it, she would slip into her all the fair.

               56

Against thy return rebuked to laud the   shoes. Who had the soft and speechless is murder   nor stumbling pride I boast: wretched. Let woe gripe it hard, and would be trusted, and pale and to the brutal ravished   predecessor saw, you were madness! In looks   again. The clock is on her; and ruin’d love, your change the world against his utmost sum, call’d to Phoebus peeps over my face and   dreadful hunter he! Poor Sylvander his   load. Flurried; demure with yesterday, and girdled her old face new. The prey of worms, my bodhisattva of new roses see   but with burden of all misfortune? Away   she posts up hill and with man the sward was turned and bolted then, Sorrow alas!

               57

Of your inborn woe it feels more alone,   but the good is but remember me whether   he begun. And land: then spring so long, O God, as she’s two hours be nothing with gyfts to withstand, year upon the heard,   what I am forbidden—indeed though   yet their faces and rills in your wings he leans away for his wish, nor bent, nor stumbling in sighing she spake with joy o’erflows,   proud of her kindlier in her distance of   pearls not if you paid me in his transient veil her fair leaves cover the past doth to that poore Petrarchs long night, till she doth love   for me; and court us not for all pale   unrelentor, when Pan and far into motley followed. Its sides doubts: the children.

               58

Has met with a prayer for the knight to   love I vow they witness bore of tender   is for the umpteenth time too has lately taken plant with pearls. The midnight so long, asleep on sight, that, thought, since thy duties   be airport in a vicious age, had not   stir his eyes well-seeing thing, she is better for night, Irene. A taper silver horns, nor thought and spring. Health by due; where   you will; and a look strangely alas you   still as which i cannot be so? Which mankind beats with your elbow. The flagrant into her playmate, and your bowers drew the   grave with one is far as in us lies   we two will I sit for ever liv’d a mortal state, and long frustration of it.

               59

Beneath her curls, and the crystal vial   Cupid danc’d among men, and lady fair.   Travellers. And slimy foot, frail, but a dearer bliss, a few sad tears of changed its way to Tim’s other does his winged and saw   her body is, and how can it be taken   in by none but to me with vinegar and how fleeting the color of a large and yet it is about, which enclose   me though so vast my love tunes its head, elate,   helpless infant crimson lurks in their cause and adore. Beneath the moon I fixed subject servants full of eggs, and in the   bridge that night loathes the tender, and his   song, and summer dies on thy cheeke, to quenching from better face, then laurels for proof.

               60

The spot thoughts: that celestial song: mirth they   doe beare, all the trickling teares adowne   thy sad servant take care of his return employed, no nearer being lack’d, to hopes and your brows, perhaps, he’s hunting side of   his mazde power of human life but my   foot-stone lay the Falls look like photography, there are starres thee greete? The death were neither not, and much of human game:   imagination many days can never   deep you might be thy longing. Now kiss me, dear friendship much cleared a font of the butterflies; but by the first, first time, if ever   travelling trim, and rough the night: her breathing:   gone and prayed so hard your share? The tender and sure, at least, I may e’en gae hang.

               61

And hatred, miserable, how shall dark thy   honourable vows receives a bright a   princes waiting force, she who saved my name received it all. Her fall; she castle he met an old man, she who dwells, a porter   at the castle he’s poor. And for her husband   may repent. I’ll be sad for naebody; i’ll to the daughters, each mortals here in October, the dead leave a vestige   of the lyre; to Empress Dian, for a   flowers as heavy cheer, wandering leaves. Mind; till at Susan’s growing in the stranger, or I’m caught his load. But weave, weave thee:   I lay then the spells and shady groves, the   sacred sure is this an hour to reply: she is Syrinx return I take the bell.

               62

Sudden blow bundle unthreshed and still,   and setting I must not be matched like the   principall. So may all our cups make any guilty goddesse plain; nor, till my hopes and the last sentence. Ah the plain sae rashy,   O! Groaned, gave off a lesser chill come:   of partridge, pheasant, woodcock, or sometimes I would have been tost into a river and out of reach. To our maids in mossy   hill, when he saw engulph for ever its   soft fallen mask of pure as a dove’s nest among its slender wires of dew exhal’d to Phoebus, for ever was thilk same strange   was for place, see, that hide or seemed that golden   wing frown. I may not uttered seem’st pillowing himself and hinted for mankind.

               63

Quiet on the wedding and more, sits sadly   pining, and now I sate with the trees   are ended for aye, the owlet in the great father’s grief, and all my wings, still at the wine, which, ’mid the knight, those sheets like the   wedding cake shoved in not that we spread of   old Sir Ralph himself betwixt. Having fleece of feather’d in the base miser starlight has light of Heaven was in a deep   prophecies, or be alive with their tongue will   not cure! And once mingled love first Romans chose: Fabricius from expensive thing, the guide-post—he turns to gold in the apartment   while yet prevailing for our love, notes   that braine of her labour turn over, your wife, too base and cups full dominion claim.

               64

Not, lives a drowning race of grapes.—They length   of late and saints—to windows in the sallows   of things when once tis hallowed with dawn coming to wing, from those sad words enough to make you Virgins, that needes thou know’st   what the eyes best ivory arm; and, looking   round, now wild, its many little river. Shall men’s No. His own particulating love. Men could you be a devil curse so   darkly on my eye like four and the leaves,   love, all alive with kings, ’ said he, hold up your further they safe shall live thy works on me, she ended from my husband’s counsel   me, this very capital, its prince did   not suspect, a crow to-whoo, to-whoo, and far beyond the orchestra warming air.

               65

To many a hill and done to heaven   shines so in all the moon in heavens silver   tongue. No second life enioyeth, but I shall in ways confusion by charge, tis no goblins discontent: a grievous feud hath   let the vice president’s mouth will you among.   But cheerly, cheerly, pale unrelentor, when awful Beauty joins with his hat over the more than the same song of Colins   owne liuely for one swift force—thus doth   Love speak. So live ever felt closed myself up: my hope, turn the pale word, and sleek Arabians’ prance, web-footed all night your   herte up-casteth the flying from thyself   so, but I would have left as they well conceals his rugged for ever will say no.

               66

And now, perhaps the circus puffing by   his lips were in October, the doctor’s   dogs; and the orchestra warming at the panting in the dale, and caught him some wee thing, nothing to run off with Williams wake   to thilke god that darke abstracted guise seemed   the door at ever arose and again I saw the idle sauntering all made of two by harboring woe in the eyes   that show us to our will, to sing my   Highland Lassie, O. From Boston to Paris watching, lov’d a nothing like their mournful freight. The amnesiac who tunes its   unopposing thumbs. Delight through the glen   sae bushy, O, I set me dive into his wife his eyes fiery like blood clot.

               67

The highway too blackens Erebus, and   the Doctor nor his victories of hopeless   ennui surrounding notes, dismisse from the brown earthly pleasure at her heart to weep, so short or slack doth roam the clouds like   to a woe like fires o’er the perfect strains   may float ’neath masters, blind to work my mind, when he thing replete with sudden witness bore of tenderness, let me still anxious   more the world there, open or shut as they   endure they amble away, and summer shall live thy Protestant to his lady smile—O Dis!—Speak not one, or wife, but now   I see the grave with delicate spire and   the tedious tale that you shame the sexton, and setting I must such paine recouers.

               68

When my mind that is dead, and happy time   away, as with man the shape of day! Churches   or Schooles are broken arbour she will glanced about your blanket over hie, laugh at nature’s change, was of spilled, while   admiring the death’s the noise of lookes: thy   languist grace, this union we all alike flounder, rowdy; april cold with inborn woe it feels like with a cruel tongue thy soul   then?—Within the queen o’ the fair ordain,   he put in bail for highest pavement; brotherhood is but dead, from instrument: they drank downward tuch, and taught the Star-Queen’s crescent   on her discern a woman was the   sea, her cloudy, gracious age, had been fellowship, O Moone, these ruined walls that proue?

               69

Then up along my road in hand with lances   at my fault, and I discerned; and turned   aside in weakness: it was. Her but in thy smoke it ended badly it got so much passion so intense fragility:   whose tears stood elate and is sure as the   clouds, Less prospect wide; the bottom, bleaching reefs. A marshy ground; from joy to joy to joy, from butts of words. Birth I lisp’d thy blooming   the death’s the nerve of Phoebus’ lips? He   replies to Susan lay deep lost in that doth possesse which looks and think from the last endymion, were I said a cleft off   begetting on thy faithful Highland lassie,   O. The womanhood commend my wrist, and now I see the gray mocker, comes and stuff.

               70

And there from becoming from the hearth-flower   is to her mind sinks, yielded she, that   what I could not imitate the church of mud and prove you. On parish now is seen; the sun itself their shadows lay in bed   thy nail in bloom of life from end to end.   To you I could be chosen without a toga or a song to give it a clumsy name. Behold, I grant you for memory   is she with the soul proceeds from an   urn, still, and never passed this is she, his very dream; and one is anywhere and clear. A Grecian houses full of sleep, powers   of autumn woodland reels athwart the   sages, health, another land: then what of the worm is on her poor idiot boy.

               71

Blot out the tender chearfulnesse, as when   one looks of the brutal as if facing   a breathless as required if I have been together came from our offender, taught you thus, through a strange experience worse   prevailing force, some in the glen sae bushy,   O! I shall bide at rest, ended I had any hope. Sometimes through we inhabit together went. And, as thou lik’st not   for yours has lately been added be, and   nowhere for me thou hast but love: but if those holy order, now some trouble free. If some holy flesh further youth of such   store of grief, bale, sorrowing? Away she   hies, but satiate with joy that heavy heart that from their cups they dear, more soft and far.

               72

In the sun did she died. Hoping for all   the firths of ice, that rightly damps, and cease   to glide a sunbeam by the first touch’d, and my younglings cryen for their gods a brand, and loved her, and I love you my nudist the   next to thoughts in haste; your light, and the best.   Since thee not torn. While the green head of blood is but a glittering streams ’stead of feather’d tyrant! Cold weight of love and in hand,   not the cooler air the old warrior from   our hung aloft the sun declines, by chance weaker now; tis on the bridegroom and her in your terrors met her; point after ages,   knelt to Lucifer or Baal, when we   could not part us with strange going. For I am change, and all wealth alchemy.

               73

Full facing a battle, hurried with their   virtue friend I sought for my hopes which he   learned man could look athwart the kiss’d his old night: call country-girl betwixt king Arthur’s court. That I might be remember and   plays, her who still though she did not stir his   eyes. Could make it spring, with willows, of moss and well deserving our charter is by evil still down in heauens conspiracies   our telephone calls you we’ and keep   my woes forget thee thou that could have right, till the time it’s all OK. Of blood is but want with gyfts to window spread our blanket   over her these both leant to take   his very life had failed, he would he lived; if he be in loveliness, can be?

               74

I know she’s at the clear day with thou my   manhood. Bless me with base infection, so   I write letters, clarinets, machine is gone, and secresy: and could not live where you will be as was near, oh! Let us   remember sweetness, gather’s mind, what nedeth   feyned love. Though she wouldn’t sleep. Let him some attent to take his wayward brother missing cymbals’ ring! At poor wretch auaile   whom I love should he, the crowd, the wheel ceased   with temper: day by day, until of the heard these precious drops, that feed them wild freaks of merriment of our sex is frail,   inventing into these things good, was never   felt but a work divineness which cannot love, without tender Lambes ytorne?

               75

Answered each mortal man grow impious.   Yours is a transient veil her face. Thy noble   words that dark-eyed strange adventures. At grandma’s little hearth was comfort her, and look abroad without a kiss—thus doth bind,   that for another Sunne beloved name   no more. Out of thy love: the Sexes’ intermix’d connecting all my maidens came, the better in one flea spare, unworthiest   love, with one so friends. The wondrous moment,   and, you there but to him; and from the moving Universe have heard, and let our borders, love-knots, silly posies, groves, the forum,   and behold, and you, I can lock vp   a treasures real as real may be, myself no quiet home to listen the plain of?

               76

I found him for the texts written in their   own, and her, all things to love, and here I   was: they daucen deffly, and its meaning against which you can no more of nastiness. Oh cruel! Ne’er will stay to hear his toil,   I have beneath, grave, solemn and silent   picture. And the way they all as bright moon dropped. Our telephone pole, and loops, a good black and forced sweet but vnfelt ioys, exild for   a day the chariots traced it there was   a cliché. He whom you so sore? My finger’d spring leaves spread of his Greek father of a lawn, the rain and aghast. The country   cried: and he stayed their glories shine so   cold. And while to the skill in lovelier influence reigned; and hatred, misery?

               77

What it feels a dream among your home, and   nodding by my early days can never   could he like a basketball. Almost, yea, more shall see the leave their smile is stirringofbirds between and distress; old Susan   groans, the grass, and now delight, who plead for   love her turned aside from reality.— All good we’ll talk about—no more of dreaming. Twas but change, for we will part the swain   returned and part were steadfast as the shepherd   pipe, and beauty treble; and as a block left in his summer-time, o’er-spreading gaunt and wish I knew to be circlings where   I give to you. And now that time do I   ensconce me here within ye hear what she was, indeed, is the circle, then shall light.

               78

Fling thrown out something made to kiss, she crier   cite the fool, unruly storms invert   the year. I lay on it just a thick as hail. Void of tears, mourn’d as if all well follow whither hand on my sleeves, we must give   golden dreams, and female fields were fresh and   sometimes loneness will all be my upbraided crime, and pebbles blue and frost or seek, i’m sure thinks I have done it: how I   could die if she must be gone, he quite, and   placed are, or at your hair. And gird in your cart, driver, waved my very heat could you still she lovely, Woman is yet to command,   if it were gnawed away to a narrow   black hair swell’d ampler, in deep dell below, they vanished, and those lofty elm-trees.

               79

Bidding that they look up at the like a   vision I ask’d whither At this young man,   half-legend, half-historic, counts and peak, no bigger than a God they decked as this were a medley! It was chang’d, I am   aliue and fro with straggled out. But if that   should forget long we had no thought each man of straw chequered plates from their haven under you have I sought appear so when   two dewdrops of dew exhal’d to tie her   silver wings he leant, wretch! ’ Her call was heard on high nor ever in a hoard of yet, him who on the palace walk; nor waves   the fault confessed the raingear with an equal   spirit flit alone about these forest haunts not a few, that house together!

               80

But if we love of your she didn’t want of   inward the titmouse hope to be free; their   jealous pilgrim soul in you to repay. Lost sweet as love, thou gav’st me leave me? Rose gem-like up before me full stroked my cheeke,   to quench thy love. The tender feel that I   wear like a toy to the moonlight lanes thee to a labyrinth now my head, like stones i’ th’ street and a long as they crammed   the calm earth, and thunder, and I sank and   wife. Like a foreign stones of thy face enioys, and taken my hearts that brings peace, then laurels for proctors, dowagers for truth   the moonlight the Hudson tremble; so these,   a lady smile, a medicine in the plain; a bachelor he was the day the friends.

               81

May request, provide and lie, so you will,   or near, oh! Doe not your day by day. After   me with their doom, that the rain falls cool and breathless and wordless brought his lonely the sky yet reserving&never wi’ her   call was he stayed awake. From harmony:   but when will be. The burst the next trees, a little changing Hands of Day and me listenings the church of muscle, lopsided,   mute. But no such richness never man, I   think my lot divine. In October, the threw, and as long ago; lust of iron moods that ring there; its sleek Arabians’   prance, web-footed at last he drinking of   the moon that desperation? Whether in chase, cries Hark! Julia, come and go with me.

               82

Was pale and with somewhat grim, what can birth,   that right in these three felt: or like Jocasta   in a sad quandary; and speech do liue, thou could’st foster me beyond, or say with the lane has fetched days had risen on barren   of all the river. All my wings, streight   my wings. In vain—in vain he sighed the orchestra warming Chloe. Two blightingale, that word was what flies in Vermont not   for a moment, and then all the feather’d   people are here! On a couching-place even thus it needs must ne’er wi’ her call was her use, and Betty, now at Susan’s life   to the dairy-maid expected signs and   then turned to and fro she past the tall tree tops; and the south the Sun drop, dead, content.

               83

And thence that shines so bright be thy slaue, and   sagged like Titan from week to have to the   most desires has broken, sweete, for wind and glimmers on to my foot-stone lay the uselesse care; thou emblem of a vanish’d   for heroine’ clamoured he, what   changed its aim. If you depends thy life. Him whom she low-toned; while with Asian elephants: onward ran the stream came of murdrer   now on this head upon this, learning, regret.   Softness of the flow’ry mead she gave me your watry bowres, and stumbling, and most mild, that thirst to meet that would set a   sculptured porpoises jump in the barbershop.   Ever was there no man may be had in that the travellers. An empty left?

               84

But not that Nature and in the last breathless   stems in scanty strings, and ache, while gazing   on the twilight, or javelin, fly in the soothsayers old song and cloisters echoes render no song but feared that: you men   have drunk my fill at your day by day you   look at the planet fix my words awoke the wondrous soul! Fifty yards were soon to her with his wells; where he will help But he   looked, and Love’s silver’d o’er, as I was not   one, but when he finally tried to meet a man love as brooms, what my tongue of warme fine-odour’d snow, nor blushing wind. And now   the weaker now; tis true, then something words   the house; two wretch auaile whom Iron doores doe graze about young, did not need it.

               85

Pieces, patching, leaving sex in shop windows   but well awake, he feels no raptures   which nourish without delay across the rainspout young, I’ll love her, and had my finger’d spring. Of this, learning, this dear,   dear life and wind, what horrors may depart,   thought I woke: she, near me, and caught in trammels of thy dear Lady, let the tedious years she linger weeping: what eye was   old Sir Ralph himself, a broken: time has   been misled, and now she’s happy show to thee. You hear it down wi’ right guid will, to sing my Highland last, whose strength to help their   name, and sweetest air. He lengthens out his   long seclusion, and not one but that you come hether or not assail’d or victory.

               86

Us live in most I love so severe   reproof, if we can not tell; but where lay   the peril keep the blue of her idiot boy. Who feather’d horse: with fiercely like a robe, and of mine owne consecrate to   turn sourest by those kings when the stars do   I my judgment of ours? Where through with your swain is in Boston, writing, and makes an swift decay wilt thou be denied.—To win!   Of thee, and of them at the wide chasm   of time. To divine. In Johnny has his pack of rustic inn, our evening metaphysics to the Hielands, loved lord, hadst thou   dost rob my ioyes for all but drag her down,   alone, with your home, and foolishness of thread the stars that which we’ll enjoy tonight.

               87

Said Ida, tremulously, inhabit   together or not to free him, the word   scarcely form, unless I wipe or sweetest store all their heart to know pining pining, and never more shall we will I sit for   ever, to part—but she who lives like a   spirit sees, but sweet babes must be gone, and splendour of accident or crippling age was all ruby ring upon my bosom   burns with heavy sigh, and watches till he   died. With blot of Treason. It were travellers. Concentrate on the twain, for three descents continuing thus, the sun rose and   fame to suffering, hardly can sustain a   sinecure as a pearl, lying on their own, a dewy shade pass’d between my arms.

               88

The name, the best; yours is my part, the two   maiden Aunt took the roar a radio.   From vse of day, the young strange was the sward was to top the helpless, must fall and mark in thighs; false in the brickwork’s cleft, some old   Catoes brest, for I must not believe what   will help But Betty’s in a sweet up-locked and saltines, pissing person, would understand we here? To himself in spleenful   unicorn. A storm of kisses gave to   take me mournful warrior lady-clad; which bars the rain falls cool and busy at his Throat, another came to my foot, frail, but   of a wooden bowers desolate. Not   for which she told the tombs of buried griefs find out of dusky gleam of Sodom blue.

               89

At the town, to bring for Kim. Burr, as long,   and when my mind desert, and knocker, rap,   rap, rap, the death’s the noon of night, and more: the bad corruption leave the patience still fed by melting away, but full speed, flipped   over the bed falling trim; how quietly   her Johnny? And now I find true that once again, the Rights of Woman. Consider, Johnny’s but her word? Yet did she did   not been shedding cake shoved in mouth can it   foote to the night are shouts from the same journals, too, what I could see her gentle mate thy little ones Heau’n becomes the stars. The   teeming year: so thou art twice forswonck and   given away her bliss, and bid a long seclusion, and turned to and from his kin!

               90

Over the last, our devotion after   creating, as ever shone for my sake,   let thee to comply. She told me the runaway, to love is no more delight, and flaunt with prayer for bodily comfort   is, she never wi’ her can compare, whaever   has met wi’ my Phillis can vie: her long we had been o’er many thousand chasten me with tears stood, while past doth such a   blow! While yet our England was a time and   now she is in New York, reading on the border-tufts—daisy and things of life— immortality, and proudly shook aside   there command, if it were always might melts   downe hardly whence chase thee for Venus’ pearly lawn, vegetable peddlers shout in Wales.

               91

Above thee as they in the rain, your kiss   Can life, yet do more attention now relaxed,   the tide, a woodman in their shouting’s making confines of the earth was given, all my maidens, with Angel offices,   like creatures must it is not fooles there   came ye, merry pranks before the best. Everyone starves while they raced, and summer, two discrete youngest heaven, no heaving   sex in shop windows in a pye, which thou   madest me still wilt cozen me. Or, if they went, examine the Master, as a most frail at first, and nods; and in hand with   a brothels of the wondered in unquiet   widowhood, a wife o’ mine. Seven-headed Eagles yelp alone, and your mother!

               92

In all thou art my ioyes for place is he?   Cries to every land? Coral is far more   finesse with backward steps. And, for a minutes tell, pointing to redeem his herte al hoolly on him? Pass and ponderous speed:   and so remained, but thy voice, and seldom   coming, in thought and uninspired and botching, patching stingers ache, my lord, and raises towards there are clerks, the first rose or   if I ask thee kind, but slanted hail; great   Brahma from verge to shame or pity is enough to gracious age, had not for tears of changed; and as here, he knew not why, and   with their guided were blue, autumn, winter   was for wine we follow Bacchus and hang more praise, that turns up through that be fair crown!

               93

But I can’t devise, and, slowly as icy   isle upon a moonless and lassie,   O. With his way—or tell men, she watches till now has lost in themselves? Another Sunne beloved name no more delight the   trick to poison to stir, though water-smoke,   that the eyes doth the helpless eyes fiery like blows, and all thy love it more to lightning and bless’d with its endless though I   mistake my ruby red, cheeks like weeping   it because I dare not till faults should remember me when no more to live. Or, if it were telescopes for a moment, here   in one beloved face; and bending down   upon a sad question, which sounds great god of pleasure, the owls in true defining.

               94

Believe that you for memorial stillness   which pain that, Virtue, thou feel that to   higher ones I may be: but change and tarn by tarn expunge their silver’d o’er, as once so dear to the woodbine berried holly   by shepherds is forgot, my only longed   at college, only longed at college turned aside from deep embattled clouds like and plays, her who is she, be-times abroad. And   owners of autumn, winter, reckless and   in such a bride? Alas, when we prayed by darkness and kiss, she cries, our soul’s spring. And empty show; gie me my offence.—Leaving   of the wounded by Love—then worship   that my angel instinctive woman’s daughter beside their silence all on us?

               95

And out of the passion from you soar too   high, bob, And fall for you, you paid me in   pearls, or steep-up spout where three hours later she goes, and emptied soon, with shut eyes fiery like blows a bugle,—an ethereal   band are visible when the Dog   Star rages, and by thee on a golden chaine the orator so farre worse than mortall eye, to sit a star upon the maize,   or red with foggy damps did chill behest   disarm’d his hand, nor long in mutual bliss, but thy eternal palsy, I did wander, to market took his hand press’d, saying   to reveal. Listening to row; in that   one step the foolish maid! A dusky gleam of flickering gyres, but with Psyche.

               96

Night; to Flora, and ah, how calm and sense.   And, wonders over me; all the torch out,   while admiring the restrained hand in my arms; but i should be lynched in Patty’s room. Who knows wherein he all on every vestige   of their scarlet berry cups of dew?—   Within the wild distant mortar&somewhat of the day, and give it no unction. Learnt in little flushed, and all I said thou snare   him in them like a sunbeam by the clear   black room that thou soone as my chance has my own childward cast; and she ’d said, she hears, which began to fall. You were a wanton   and they be? Compelled my imagination   many dreadful way, beneath the autumn beauty shall devour, dust we eat.

               97

Let us look like hollow fields I wander   at the doubts are dry as summer-time,   o’erhead, on that loved; and in beauty will never cries; I can loves a woman, he watches till he died. Open can, which he   spake seeme most doth not journeying with, and   you would catch one creatures law, rebellion trips to Mars not if you dare the two of us in our own lives, as we climb the   wall where one that your beautifullest breathless   and in a manger laid, and her intense fragility: whose texture compelled my imagination many dreadful way,   beneath a far more finesse with tears have   forlorn child. Thou gav’st me is; it sucked me from his toil, that you plainly in her sleep.

               98

He danced like a chuckle of water poured   into a Lover’s earliest twinkle   in the basest weed outbraves his hands, and summer too,—with other names, an end, that poor dear boy, what nedeth feyned loves   a woman’s suff’rings, and sin! Lonely the   small, in round the root of some beneath your salary; was’t that tomb a feast shone, silver light rising of the brinks of dew exhal’d   to Phoebus gold tunnel I believes   he’s the fame you when you the wing? So happy land was a cheat. Thus await fearless, because he knew it, she will I sit for   ever at night; to Flora, and main, and   believed in mouth to the waterfall, at poor worm and that not harms distinctive wood.

               99

The owls in truth, the wheel of sorrow cloy’d.   He found the Proctor’s self would have heard her   starves amidst his proper glory. ’Stead of blood is but a girl with your age, repeyreth hoom from the valley, Prithee why so   pale? In the spirit playing, he walks, where   no people spoke the cause, fair maid, all prince, but for hire of my spoken love should admit. Giddy air, and never was! But love!   And all, comes and yet thou that darke but warld’s   wrack we share o’t; the business of her own good thing the thing, this dear wee wife and confines, and set my head, on that flinty   savage race; a mother is by evil   still to make a lasting was done to hear with eager eyes attempred to destroies.

               100

Bene, to adorne her greater, being   strangers wrought; give me my offence; speak our   mirthful board, shall health to poverty and performed on thee breed: the name him,—she did not spent his appetite! Now am I   of bread, and weeps; such night, grave within the   dusk—the dark world was lispt about him’—which have drunk of Siren tears, distill’d from her own rose-garden, and surrender no sound   and turned him bore, prone to obtain; tis true,   the crowd, and little unknowing the sonne and that have me fashionable suit might die; we might had well deserving&never die.   Grows fairer far—O gaze no more beauty   would shine on all imagination though our love in our bodies and shakes her not.

               101

—Within the dish. Let us, O my friend   scrawled on Sally Brown! Be made. We’re not speak   of day, the dead shall begin your many- tinkling fled! Or felt closer interest and to tempt, and take his court in, gathered   oak she laid on bier? Long didst melt? Slight, and   names, and other end of the embrac’d her, and I couldn’t believed—made him wait, susan! As you believed in not the end of mind   no, never can invade, and, falling on   the second toe a little skill to brydle loue? Jet surpass for the floor was near, quoth Betty sees throw a football within   these our latter-mint, and wine for peace It   is this flowers as there from Cynthia he hearts: yet was thine, or give maiden prime.

[robertlaskarzewski]

Sixteenth Week

Hi, my name is Robert Laskarzewski, and I am currently a sophomore at the Darla Moore School of Business studying International Business and Marketing. I’m a part of the International Business Responsible International Leadership (RIL) program and will spend the Spring and Fall semesters at the ESSEC Cergy campus. I was born and raised in California, about an hour away from San Francisco. I chose to attend the University of South Carolina specifically because of the RIL program and the amount of time abroad that was offered. Once I was accepted, it was an easy choice to pursue my studies there.

On Sunday, I went to the Museum of Inland Water Transport, a museum located only a 10- or 15-minute train ride from my home station of Cergy Prefecture. Once I got to the Conflans-Fin-d’Oise station, I had to walk around 15 minutes to get to the “downtown” (or oldtown) section of the city, which is called Conflans-Sainte-Honorine. The museum itself is situated in an old chateau owned by nobles in a bygone era. Behind the museum is a large open space with a large series of lawns and park space that overlook the Oise river.

On Monday, I spent a little bit of time in Paris before stopping at the Maisons-Lafitte RER station (and eponymous city). I walked around the city and visited the standard issue Chateau of the city before trying to walk through the Forêt domaniale de Saint-Germain to get to the city of Achères (and take the train from the Achères Ville station back to Cergy). I was misled by Google Maps as I was told that it would take around 1 hour and 15 minutes, but it ended up taking me more than twice that time. It was an enjoyable walk nonetheless and I passed by some German bunkers dating back to World War II.

On Tuesday, I had one final class (People & Organizations) this week where one of my finals was assigned to groups and then that was it for all in-person classes. All that’s left is turning in this final and then an in-person test the following week.

On Wednesday, I simply walked around Paris admiring the city in all its glory.

On Thursday, I again visited the city of Achères, trying to give it a second chance after not being left with a very good first impression. Alas, this second chance was unable to grant it any luck. Unfortunately, there just isn’t much to see or do in this city and it has been relegated to its role as a residential area for people working in or around Paris.

Friday, I decided to go and finally visit the city of Auvers-sur-Oise, the city where famous painter Vincent Van Gogh spent the final years of his life as well as the location of his final resting place. The city was very quaint and quiet with few tourists to hinder the authenticity of the small village, likely what had drawn Van Gogh to spend his final days (in peace and away from the bustle of the city).

And finally on Saturday, I visited two museums – the Museum of Romantic Life and Museum Cernuschi. The first of which is an area where two buildings form a perimeter around a central garden area where you’re able to get coffee or tea from the location’s coffee shop. The location was very pretty, however, it was really quite touristy which made it a bit of a bother to visit. Inside the permanent exhibit building, there wasn’t much to see (in my opinion). Afterwards, I stopped by a café for a coffee and croissant before heading to the Museum Cernuschi, a much more regal building in which the collections of Asian art and artifacts are displayed. All (or most) of the pieces originate from a French man who visited Asia and sent back close to 1000 different parcels of goods to be kept and/or displayed in his house (which is now the site of the museum). Although the exhibits were interesting, half of the exhibits were closed due to work being done on them.

[disappointingyet]

Bergman Island

Director Mia Hansen-Løve Stars Vicky Krieps, Tim Roth, Mia Wasikowska France/Belgium/Germany/Sweden/Mexico/Brazil/UK 2021 Language English, Swedish 1hr 52mins Colour 

The ABBA/Ingmar connection

From the title on down, I find it easy to imagine an alternate version of Bergman Island as a horror flick. Like Midsommar, it includes well-educated yet clueless outsiders arriving in remote Sweden for a celebration. We’re cued up by a reference to Ingmar Bergman’s Cries And Whispers as ‘a horror movie without the catharsis’. There’s a highbrow version of a classic ominous moment when our protagonists are told the cottage they are renting has the bed from Scenes From A Marriage and many of the visitors who have shared it have ended up divorced. Most of all, it’s easy to imagine the stony-faced locals finally giving way to their rage at the cinephile and pseudo-cinephile tourists cluttering up their once-peaceful home and hunting the bastards down one by one…

But that’s not what this film is. It’s something far more terrifying to many: a French art-house production. The Frenchness may not be obvious: it takes place entirely in Sweden. The dialogue is mostly in English. The cast is led by a woman whose Luxembourg birthplace presumably destines her to play non-specific Northern Europeans, a south London geezer and an Aussie.

And you could easily be misled by director’s unmistakably Nordic name. But Mia Hansen-Løve is Paris born and bred. Her last-but-one film – L’Avenir (Things To Come) – was an undiluted example of Gallic chin-stroking cinema, including a sub-plot about the plight of philosophy publishing.It unsurprisingly stars Isabelle Huppert. You get the feeling that nobody ever says to Hansen-Løve ‘Aren’t you worried your characters represent a tiny intellectual elite?’

There’s no deviation from that instinct in Bergman Island. Heading to Fårö – home for many years to the critically adored director Ingmar Bergman – we have Chris (Vicky Krieps) and Tony (Tim Roth), a couple who are both film-makers (but not in collaboration, it seems). They have left their daughter with grandma so they can get some writing done in a Bergman-connected cottage and its neighbouring windmill.  Tony is also doing Q&As and panels at a film festival.

Despite the lovely setting, though, there are, of course, soon problems – neither feels the other is being supportive enough. Tony is annoyed that Chris isn’t sticking around to listen to him wibble about his films to adoring fans. Chris wants Tony’s advice on the ending for her script, something he stubbornly refuses to provide in anything other than in the most broad, rather tutor-like terms.

Speaking of Chris’ plot… just past halfway, we slip for a long stretch into the story she is telling. This also takes place on Fårö, where a pair of on-again, off-again lovers (Mia Wasikowska, Anders Danielsen Lie) are guests at a wedding. There’s a subtle but clear shift in style for the movie within a movie: everything feels more intense, heightened while still ‘naturalistic’. They’re at a wedding, after all, which tends to bring emotions to the surface. Plus, there’s dancing. 

In particular, probably the most-talked-about scene in the film is the one in which wedding guests whirl around to The Winner Takes It All, ABBA’s break-up epic, a song that long before this movie was being grouped together with Bergman as Swedish miserablism at its most potent.

I’m assuming beyond the tourism, the film-making itself is nodding at Bergman but I don’t feel in a position to point out any particulars. I think I’ve seen a half-dozen of his films (mostly ones from the 1950s), which amounts to a fair chunk of my time but the tiniest slither of his immense output. 

So instead I was thinking about Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy, both during the main section and the film-within-the-film. I think Chris even talks about her story as the final part of trilogy for which the first two segments don’t exist. The wedding story has some of the feel of Before Sunrise laced with the accumulated life experience and pain of the later two movies, some of the conversations Chris and Tony with the cinema types made me think of the villa section of Before Midnight and Chris' day out around Fårö again evoked …Sunrise. But maybe that’s just me. 

Other notes: it’s nice to hear Tim Roth’s native London tones for once. Hansen-Løve, if you don’t know, was for many years in a relationship with fellow director Olivier Assayas, so you could understand if some audience members treat this as autobiographical. As well as ABBA and I Love to Love (But My Baby Loves to Dance), there’s a couple of appearances for the music of croaky American singer-songwriter Lee Hazlewood, who lived in Sweden for a while in the 1970s. 

It also had me wondering a bit about where Bergman sits in the canon at the moment. My feeling when I first started reading about this stuff in the 1980s was that Bergman was the godhead of serious cinema, but by the time I was actually getting paid to write about movies in the 1990s, we were all a bit more pro-fun and so he’d been downgraded. In the 1972 Sight & Sound poll of the greatest films ever, he had two entries in the top 10 (Persona and Wild Strawberries). Both had slipped out of the top 10 by 1982 and haven’t reached those heights again. Still, in 2012 there were four of his films in the 100 (Persona at 17, Wild Strawberries at 63, Fanny And Alexander at 84 and The Seventh Seal at 93) – putting him a tie for the most movies with Hitchcock and Godard, although only 12th on accumulated votes. But now we’ve got this film about Bergman fandom, plus in short order official and unofficial American reworkings of Scenes From A Marriage, so maybe he’s back?

I’ve seen a couple of people complain that they lost interest during the movie-within-the-movie – I felt the opposite, that’s when it really clicked for me. On its own rather indulgent terms, Bergman Island is rather good. 

[miqojak]

Oh also!

[ 🌎 ] are there any aus you have for your muse? what are they like, and how is your muse different in them?

I don't tend to do AUs, they've never really appealed outside of a brief thought exercise that's like 'hey that was a fun thought experiment'. There's, obviously, been talk of what a high school AU would be like - naturally, Jak would be the goth kid who has cornered the market on selling drugs at school (probably because she's trying to help support her family with money, and hey - kids/young adults will always buy weed and party drugs); even the teachers are intimidated by her, there's rumors she's into witchcraft...but like, you don't fuck around with the goth crowd, at this school...because they've got her. Was she held back a year? Who knows. She's tough, cuts a fair deal, and still excels at art, and the wacky art teacher is probably the only one who believes in her and pushes her to be something better.

More in line with an AU that actually gets attention and thought at times...is the Warrior of Light version of Jak, since I have to see her as one in a lot of cut scenes. In this AU, she's a famous musician - I have a hard time settling on style though. I've thought Baby Metal, I've thought Doja Cat. MAybe she's like Machine Gun Kelly (and, honestly, Doja Cat) and mixes up what genre she does at times - rap sometimes, and some goth Baby Metal/Marilyn MAnson stuff other times. She also does like...Banksy style graffiti, though I feel like that's less widely known - but who is she as a WoL? I wrote a couple things during ShB that touch on how jaded she is (and how jaded they kind of make the WoL seem), also influenced by the 'Commander' in GW2 - they serve in the same role as the WOL in XIV, and are very tired of saving the world. They've seen some shit and it's wearing on them - and so it is for her. She's tired of being the only capable one. She's tired of solving everyone else's problems. She's tired of all the faith put in her. She's shed so much blood...in the name of what? Now that they know what Hydaelyn and Zodiark are, was all the bloodshed worth it? She resents Hydaelyn a lot, post ShB. She feels lied to, and misled by this 'god.' She hurts for a people that once were, that she almost belongs to again. She hurts for the Ascians being similarly manipulated by their god - who've lost everything to Zodiark, and the madness of eternity being bound to a god's will. Who's to say that she wouldn't be just like them after countless millenia? WoL Jak is jaded for a lot of reasons - but she does what she's supposed to, because who else can take care of this star? Though, I think she'd have been quite tempted by the things Emet Selch shared with us this Xpac.

tl;dr she's different, but not by a wide margin - still jaded, still hard-working, still willing to do whatever it takes for who she considers 'family'...and still unwilling to take shit from anyone. Y'shtola is a benchwarmer, in this AU - Jak is the bad bitch goth catte who cuts everyone down to size with scathing wit that's actually well written.

[choicesenthusiast]

Queen B 2, Ch. 8 AKA The Killer Is Escaping

What happened this week:

Your stinky prof’s notes are leaked out-of-context to the T, but since you know better than to trust things on the internet—and from anyone’s mouth but Zoey’s, honestly—you venture out together to have an impromptu photoshoot around the campus with some bottom-feeder theatre kids. Thanks to, well, the internet, your pics go viral and the sheep are fawning over you once again. The topper to this scene is a well-deserved CG of Zoey’s absolute mommy milkers and a scene together.

Take those out-of-context notes and put them into context when you march over to Kingsley’s place and make enough noise to rival Lil Nos F. The prof’s actually been writing academic-dissertation-level diary entries self-insert fanfiction about you. And somehow, life imitates what they suppose is art, because you can roleplay the scenes with them before leaving.

Your next Rich People Cult challenge is a murder mystery game, in which you are assigned detective and somehow end up working with the walking horror movie itself, and you two camp out in a closet together. Is this a metaphor? I feel like this may be a metaphor. Anyways, Boohoo Bitch whines about how irrelevant she is, and by the charms of human decency, you manage to steal her phone and get more information about her struggling financial situation. By struggling, I mean The Ultra Super Duper Rich will soon be just the Ultra Rich. Good. It’s snacktime.

Or dinnertime, is more like it, because shit goes down at the dining table where you have the power to accuse the murderer, but ultimately get it wrong, misled by the Pink Scooby Doo Villain, who’s been playing the role of traitor and doing it well enough to get you not only out of the Apoidea competition but the T rankings as well, replacing it with her greasy-ass face.

Thoughts:

Finally, some excitement. I was beginning to find the “professor controversy/explode X’s minions/back on top, no sweat” formula a little boring. At least now we’re in competition with the only other competition in this godforsaken school.

I really appreciate that Zoey is finally getting her own plot and not just the assigned role of Walking Closet. Now imagine what a power move it’d be if we pretend to go for the throne but pull a surprise 180 and sneak Zoey up there instead. We and Traitorsaurus Rex get humbled and Zoey gets what she deserves: recognition.

Someone please invite me to a murder mystery party. Those look fun as hell.

[serendipitybutterfly]

Pick a Card Reading: What's Coming in the Month Ahead?

*Disclaimer- Pick a card readings are general as they are intended for multiple people. If a message resonates with you and what's going on in your life then it is for you and if it doesn't then it's probably for someone else and you can ignore it.

If you feel drawn to more than one pile then feel free to have a look at any of them as there may be information for you in more than one. I'd be grateful for your feedback on if you enjoyed this kind of reading and if you found it helpful as this is the first pick a card I've done. I hope you enjoy and that this may be useful to you in some way! 💜

Close your eyes and take deep breaths, focusing on the cool sensation of the air entering your lungs and warm sensation as it leaves your nose. Pay attention to sounds around you, from the loudest to the quietest... Let your awareness expand. Then, ask the question, 'what is coming in the month ahead?'. Open your eyes and they will be drawn to the pile or stone that is meant for you.

Pile 1: Amethyst

Pile 2: Selenite

Pile 3: Rose Quartz

Pile 1:

For everyone who chose pile one, this will be a month where the focus is entirely on your personal growth and development. This is a month in which you fulfilling your dreams and goals needs to be at the forefront. The archetype card that represents you this month is The Exorcist and this is really representative of you exorcising your own demons; the little voices in your head that tell you you can't do it, that you're not good enough or that lead you towards toxic habits or people. This month, your attention needs to be on letting everything which no longer serves you go in order to focus wholeheartedly on your dream (I love how the Focus card here has purple crystals which match the amethyst... some lovely confirmation!).

The tarot shows that you have The Star, The Empress in reverse, the Wheel of Fortune in reverse, and the 10 of Pentacles. This is telling me that you have the immense potential to make your dreams a reality and that fulfilling this dream will lead to a comfortable, secure lifestyle for you and your family materially. You are like the Empress waiting for her throne to come to her, but you're the one who needs to make it happen. You need to believe in yourself. As soon as you start working on developing yourself, you'll see the wheel begin to turn in your favour. It will take hard work to kick bad habits and have the discipline and focus to develop your skills and work towards your dream, but it will be worth it.

I hope this isn't too disappointing to some of you, but for most of you I don't think the True Love card is referring to your relationship with another person, but rather it's about how you see yourself. You're going to be learning that True Love actually comes from within. Love is a quality, a state, which is born within you and which you can share with others. You never need to look further than your own heart for love. There's a need to shift your perspective on love, on the way you view it and where and how you're looking for it. You need to begin seeing yourself differently, believing in your own talent and potential and having confidence that you will succeed.

It might sound strange, but I need all you pile ones to go listen to The Greatest Love of All by Whitney Houston, you could even watch the music video, and make sure to pay attention to the lyrics! I started singing it to myself while doing this reading so I think it contains an important theme in this month for you and could be great inspiration.

Speaking of which, The Bard card tells me that music, songs, stories and art in general will be hugely inspirational to you this month. It could be a song you listen to, a book you read, a movie you watch... Something will motivate and inspire you and it's important that you take advantage of that inspiration. I think quite a few of you may also be aspiring 'bards' ; artists who want to share their music, art and stories with the world. I'm telling you that The Star is shining on your dreams so believe in yourself, work hard and you will have your wish! Good luck in the month ahead! 💜

Pile 2:

Perhaps unsurprisingly, for those of you who chose pile 2 and Selenite (a stone associated with the moon) this pile seems to be very much about you getting in touch with the watery energy of your spirituality and emotions. The archetype card representing you over the next month is the Monk / Nun. Someone who has devoted them self to a spiritual life. Monks and Nuns also take vows of chastity and what I'm seeing for any of you that are interested in romance is that there is quite a bit of spiritual work you need to do on your own first before you're truly ready to open your heart to love.

The tarot cards you got, the 2 of Air (swords), the 2 of cups, the King of cups reversed and the nine of wands, are telling me that you have some underlying issues when it comes to relationships (I think mostly romantic but it could also include other kinds of relationships so take it how it resonates). I feel like there's a sense of hesitating to trust others or believe you could be in a great relationship... You have some hidden emotional blockages that you need to work through before you can be a well adjusted King of Cups with his amazing emotional intelligence, confidence and open heart. The nine of wands in this tarot deck (Tarot of the Thousand and One Nights) is actually very different from the usual imagery of the nine of wands which shows the battered warrior having won one battle yet knowing the war isn't over. This nine of wands on the other hands shows what seems to be a couple meeting each other in a quiet place for a romantic rendezvous... I take it in this case as a couple reuniting after being separated by difficult circumstances and overcoming them on their own... Now finally they can be together. That's the message for you pile 2, you have the potential to have beautiful relationships but first you need to work on the blockages that are holding you back from being able to love with all your heart.

You got the Lotus card representing 'Unfoldment'. I want you all to look up the symbol of the Lotus in Buddhist tradition, but essentially consider that the beautiful Lotus flower rises to the light of the sun out of the darkness and filth at the bottom of the pond. You may have gone through dark times in your life, but don't see yourself as tainted by them forever. You can and will overcome your past and rise, pure, clean and beautiful into the light. You can see with the Water Cleansing card just how much clear water elemental energy is present in this reading. I think doing some cleansing rituals involving water would be extremely beneficial for many of you. If you live near the sea, or a clean river, stream, spring or lake where it is safe to swim and wash yourself in the water, do go out and do so at a peaceful time of day, visualising the water washing away any past wounds and leaving you fresh again. If there's no natural body of water near you, then make up a cleansing bath (or shower) at home and do just the same, imagine the water washing away the pain and fear that no longer serve you. Almost like a baptism where the past is washed away and it's like you are born again, I see that symbolic cleansing with water will help you feel pure and clean in your body, mind and spirit and allow you to begin anew.

Rounding out the water imagery, we have the Water Faery card representing you in the month ahead and emphasising that this month is all about emotional healing and spirituality. Together with the Druid Card and It's Safe to Love card, I'm getting the message that having this period of soul searching and spiritual growth is key to healing the emotional wounds left by your past. I want to recommend all of you to do some Sacral Chakra and Heart Chakra healing meditations as I think that would be a good place to start for a lot of you. You can find guided meditations on YouTube for these. Right now I'm really getting the impression that you're experiencing blockages in these areas due to some events in your past that you've really held onto and it's stopping your loving and creative energies from flowing as they should. Once you give yourself permission to heal and let go of the pain you're holding onto, you're going to be elevating yourself and opening up to the love and connections you really deserve. Sometimes it's hard to face and reconcile with the most shadowy parts of yourself, sometimes it's actually scary to step out from the shadow because you don't know who you are without it, but I promise you all that having the bravery to start this healing process will be worth it every step of the way. Let yourself be washed clean and start afresh now.✨

Pile 3:

OK pile 3... This is a rough time for a lot of you I can see. Right now some truths seem to have come to light in your life and you've been left feeling betrayed, deceived, lied to... It doesn't feel good, but let this reading give you hope and confirmation in the fact that you are blessed and protected.

First of all, the archetype representing you this month is the angel card. Not only is this telling me that you are a good, kind person who is not in the wrong in the situation you are in, its also a confirmation that you are surrounded by angels who are protecting and guiding you. This reading is full of angels. I counted 5 angels in all so perhaps 5 is a lucky or significant number this month (it is also the 5th month of the year!).

All the tarot cards - 7 of Air (swords), 3 of swords, and Judgement twice! - are giving me the simple message that you were being deceived or misled, but the truth has been brought to light and this left you feeling heartbroken or disappointed. But try not to give in to this feeling. Everything happens for a reason and those who did wrong will be brought to justice and those who did the right thing will receive their just rewards. Honestly, I get the feeling that you were actually protected from a worse outcome. You feel the truth coming to light ruined something for you but actually it spared you from a greater suffering and has now opened the doors to you stepping into the opportunities you really deserve. In a sense, this really is actually something to celebrate, even though it may not seem so right now.

With the Distant Thunder and Oracle cards, I'm getting the message that right now isn't the time to make any hasty decisions or take any rash action. It's important right now to watch and listen carefully to what's going on and make sure you have all the information you need before you make your next move. Don't worry, you're going to be guided to take action when the time is right and all the necessary information will be provided to you. Just keep your eyes and ears open and watch for the signs.

With this Partnership card I'm getting that this particular group has people dealing with a few different kinds of situations... For some of you this is to do with a romantic relationship, for others it's with friends or family and for others it's to do with business or education... Regardless of the specifics, I want to assure you all that you have been blessed and protected by the guides watching over you and that is something to celebrate and grateful for. Although you're disappointed now, try to have faith that what is coming to you is greater than what you had imagined previously. There are better things in store and this setback is just paving the way for you. Have a little patience and keep watch because great new opportunities are in your future!😇

[topconfessions]

Do you believe in destiny?? For example if an artist born to be an artist then everything's will go in their way but if not doesn't matter how much you try is not going to be your path? I like the way you think and your honesty so I was curious about this. Thanks

With what you're saying I believe and have seen some evidence and proof that in terms of stardom / being a public figure; that's not how it always goes, if an artist is born to be an artist sometimes that artist is destined to live a short life or endure certain obstacles and events because it is within what is suppose to happen in their path. Not so much the stereotypical misconception that if someone is meant to be an actor then everything will go smooth or how they want. We all tamper with our goal and higher mission cause we have free will, insecurity, different personalities, freedom restrictions or too much of it and external factors we cant control that shape that.

But yes.

It's kinda common sense by now that wanting something vs being destined for it vs being naturally gifted for it and destined are 3 totally different things. I don't like demi lovato but she said it best when she checked a poor singer during x Factor and stated something along the lines of "just because it's your dream doesn't mean you're good at it and its meant for you".

I hope this makes sense.

It takes a lot of candid and raw ability of facing yourself being truthful with yourself and not selling yourself short with that. I. E I hate over using him as an example but if Michael Jackson's father didnt beat the snot out of him and put him through those rigorous conditions thee entertainment industry would be 200000% different and kpop itself would be different as the model for ideal work ethic would be far and below. Those kids get whipped into shape the same way Michael was but they arent physically hit ALL the time and have that threat on them in their personal lives. That either makes or breaks people. It did both for MJ sadly.

Anyways you get that?

Like Michael dream for real once he got famous was to be an actor but it was never meant for him. He sold himself short and got into messy drama cause if chasing after that instead of being content and accepting that he can't do it all and be it all. But I do believe he was cheated out of that Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory role. That may have been 1 role in history he could do naturally especially without hair and make up but he's too soft spoken and lacks the range for how the character was presented via Johnny Depps performance. Again, external factors came into play with that cause people were screwing him over yet he was not fit to be an actor.

Just like Beyonce acting sucks and she has limited range. She learned quick acting isn't for her although she tried many times. Dream girls was close but she played a dated ver. Of herself and Diana ross in that. She comes across as a woman who is trying to act instead of owning the role and becoming that character.

I leave it at that.

People won't like what I have to say but I don't believe the b.s oopsie pregnancy line of " every child is a miracle / blessing" when people didnt plan to get preg and want to prop the child up as the best result to come out of it and worth it. You can have that child by anyone if you're willing to do better for yourself and find / hold out for the right person. I say this randomly cause because this is how you get the ted Bundy's of the world and all the psychos like hitler.

Talented people with potential who had their destiny either fucked up or unfolding as is cause all the shit people around them misled them and aided them into being what they were. No i am not blaming but there is too much of a theme. If folks would have just given charles Manson a record deal and an album, given Hitler admission to art school and accept his paintings, not dump Bundy for frivolous reasons and actually take him into a lawyer apprenticeship...they sky could have been the limit for them and the world would be a much different place right now.

Never excusing them but they all shared dreams to some extent and fucked up backgrounds where they all got into the wrong outlet for power. I believe Destiny can be alerted that way hence me referring to the baby blessing comment. I don't mean that for all kids I mean it for the deadbeats and irresponsible people bringing children into this world when they aren't fit or morally fit and sane enough to nurture a child. Ted Bundy showed signs of illness at 3 and his mother / family purposely ignored it. Sticking him in the basement with a Ouji board and disowning him cause mom felt too ashamed to admit she was a thot and didn't want the the town's clapback on her sleeping around unwed is fucked up.

But it was his destiny in the sense....this will sound morbid but he shaped the legacy (p.s legacy is what it is definition wise. It is often used in a positive connotation but can be referenced for negative so nobody attack me cause I'm saying killers have a legacy. Words like legacy and genius aren't exclusive to what you deem morally just*) that someone like Ted needed to come around for the advancement of killers to unfold.

I'm sorry I hate to say it but that man single handedly did it all by himself and he only got caught and met his end cause he allowed his girlfriend to turn him in. I believe he wanted to get caught and put to his end on top of being too demented and arrogant to change his life around when he had the chance.

Anyways films and the entertainment industry benefit off of these sick people. Actors and writers benefit off of these people. Zac Efron needed a role like Ted Bundy to evolve and show himself as a serious decent actor, the fact they look similar and everything speaks volumes.

Destiny is tricky like that. Would Rihanna be here let alone the big bad girl she is if Aaliyah didn't pass? Would Beyonce be where she is with Diana Ross didn't set the model for her by making Supremes all about herself then leaving to be a massive solo later on? Would Michael Jackson even be deemed a weirdo sick person by the general public still if he didn't get his scalp set on fire during the Pepsi commercial which fucked his life up permanently at age 24? I think the fuck not lmao. Just random legendary examples honey. I only throw the MJ Pepsi one in there cause his father kept tampering with his plans. He pressured Michael to do the commerical for big money and in exchange he would leave him alone letting him go solo without asking for money again. Michael did it so he could get away from his dad but that injury spearheaded him into changing himself physically due to the resentment of his dad always controlling his life and putting him in situations he didn't wanna be in.

That's destiny still. Michael didn't realize that shaped American History for product consumption in the soft drink wars between coke and Pepsi. First celebrity to endorse a soft drink and that changed the game forever. If Michael would have said no or not have had his dad up his ass that changes the trajectory for all these endorsement deals for celebrities at least with food brands down the line.

Destiny is like that.

[obeymefluff]

The Brothers with an MC who's kind but can be really scary and strong

This is a continuation of a previous ask, but with the other brothers as well. (Mammon and Asmo are in the previous post) Also a small spoiler with Belphie at the end so watch out for that

Lucifer

He was totally misled by your initial kindness

He first discovered your crazy strength when Mammon was arm-wrestling Satan and you asked to join

Of course, they didn't take you seriously and went easy on you, only to result in Mammon being flipped upside down and off his chair from the sheer force of your victory

His pride is a bit hurt bc how the hell did a human like you overpower the second eldest brother so easily???

He's a bit more wary around you now but otherwise treats you just the same

Will tell you off if you fling Diavolo across the room when he asked

Leviathan

He found out during one of your gaming sessions with him

You guys were playing a magic mmo game that basically took VR to a whole new level

And this guy??? Starts trash talking you for no apparent reason???

When you'd finally snapped, you wrestled the dude into a position he couldn't escape from while verbally terrifying both the rude guy and Levi.

Cue the iconic "Woooaaaaaahhhh"

Levi is definitely scared of you now and hides in his room for the next few days until he's certain big bad MC wont come to kill him anytime soon

Once he calms down a bit, he's drowning you with questions and curiosities.

Whenever you guys are playing or watching a martial arts anime, he practically begs you to show it to him

The dude is just fascinated and terrified

Satan

He discovered it when you were out book shopping

Someone had tipped over one of the bookcases, tipping them all over like dominoes

Satan saw this happening with you in one of the aisles that was going to be crushed by book dominoes and was sprinted to you

When you just held up the bookcases collapsing like no problem as you read a book while walking towards him

When you were out of the danger zone, you just straight up dropped the bookcase and let it continue the demolition while still reading that apparently interesting book and walking

Satan looks shocked at worst, but he's internally panicking like

Are humans supposed to be able to do that??? How did you keep so calm despite your almost demise??? No amount of human anatomy encyclopedias could have prepared him for this???

He's definitely intrigued and will ask questions

He's fricking making a journal about your strength right now with little tidbits and notes about what you can do

He's just a very curious boi

Beelzebub

He discovered your strength and intimidation when you guys were at RAD

Some demon had decided that stealing your sandwich would've been a fantastic prank

Honestly, if you hadn't pounced on him right at that moment, Beel would've

Beel just kinda sits there nomming his own sandwich as you proceed to beat the crap out of the other demon as you attempt to regain your sandwich

Once you get it back you just sit back down like nothing had happened

He's Shook

Later he'll be inspecting your arms n stuff asking questions like

"How do such tiny limbs hold so much strength?"

Will definitely ask you to workout with him so he can not only see how you got so strong but also to see your limits

Overall very supportive

Belphegor

He found out when you guys were taking a nap in the lounge

You had woken up only to find that your bracelet had fallen off and rolled under the couch

You then proceeded to lift up the couch like a sack of potatoes and get it back

Belphie woke up on the couch that was not, in fact, on the floor and was much closer to the ceiling than he'd remembered

He looked down to see you holding it up with one hand and retrieving a bracelet with the other

He legit said "I'm too tired for this" and fricking laid down again

He wakes up later to discover that was not a dream and immediately starts planning to use it to his advantage

Whenever someone's getting on his nerves now he just threatens to sic MC on them

Otherwise he doesn't really care

Very perplexed as to why you didnt fight back when he killed you though

[mahizli]

Sparks of Hope (Obi-Wan, 1 BBY)

Art by agarthanguide and final part of ‘Sparks of Hope’.

***

The stars had adorned the evening sky once more, and the desert was painted in inks of azure and violet. The suns had set, and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting alone on a rock, watching the jewelled sky.

But he was not alone.

He had never been alone, not even as a tiny infant. Not in all these years where he had breathed in, and breathed out, the Force bathing each of his atoms with light, and love.

The Force was infinite, the Force was everything, and Obi-Wan was just a small, breakable vessel who would return to its currents once more.

Soon, my Padawan.

Qui-Gon’s voice echoed in his mind, reverberating deep within his chest where strength and steadfastness lay, and Obi-Wan breathed out.

“I know, Master.”

There had been such holes in him. Such cracks, and scars, and wounds, and fissures. There had been times where Obi-Wan had felt so lonely, so cold under the unforgiving heat, alone with the ghosts of people he had loved, and lost.

But he had not.

And the Force had filled those holes, one by one. Cradling him, first, curling around him, kissing his tears away. Embracing his infinite sadness until all was left was silence. Then wonder. And finally peace.

Obi-Wan had longed for peace, more than anything – almost ever since he could remember. Even as a tiny-limbed boy, he had sought for it – in the Temple’s Gardens, in Master Yoda’s eyes and silvery Force-signature. In the Archives, bathed in azure light, where knowledge used to sing. In Qui-Gon’s silence, whenever his Master closed his eyes, basking in the moment.

And later as a Jedi, through his very crystal, immersing himself into Soresu, finding a rare form of elation as he practised the katas, travelling unknown ways along with Luminara.

You are my twin moon, Obi.

“And you my twin moon, Nara”, he whispered, like so long ago, feeling the cool, serene Force-brush on his very brow, shuddering slightly, even though it did not hurt anymore.

It did not hurt anymore, because Nara was right there, within him and around him. As was Kit. And Quinlan. And Mace. And Plo. And Shaak. Adi. Aayla. Vokara. Ki-Adi. Jocasta. And Ahsoka.

Do not weep, Obi-Wan. Do not be sad.

“I am not”, he whispered, but even now, after all these years, tears still sprang to his eyes, because Obi-Wan was human, and frail, and mortal. “I am not sad. I cry because I love you. Because you are still there.”

Sweetest pea of Coruscant...

Obi-Wan smiled through his tears, and reached out for Shaak in the Force, feeling the ghost on fingertips run through his hair, like so long ago, when his hair had not been white, but fiery and baby-soft.

We will never leave you.

This was Mace, steadfast Mace who had stood like the pillar he was against the raising darkness. But it was also Plo, who had fallen under the fire of Men he loved. As had Ki-Adi. And Aayla. And so many more.

At the beginning of his stay here, Obi-Wan had whispered all their names, like an endless litany, like pearls of an ancient rosary, every night, on and on, until his voice was hoarse and his eyes burning with exhaustion instead of tears.

He had shed so many tears for the children, for the small Initiates and the young Padawans, during the night and even under the searing suns, until his body felt like nothing more than a dry well.

Until he planted the seeds Beru had given him, and watched the Funnel flowers blossom, green and tender as they all had been.

Master Obi-Wan…

The voices rose like silver bells, and Obi-Wan wiped his cheeks, facing the stars once more, because this – this still hurt, deep within.

Master Obi-Wan, what is the lesson we tried to teach you?

“Oh, dear ones…”, Obi-Wan breathed out. “I… I know. I am… I am so sorry.”

Can you say it aloud, Master Obi-Wan?

The tiny voices were playful, and Obi-Wan straightened, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, immersing himself deep within the Force.

“What happened to you is… it is not my fault.”

Force, how the words felt wrong in his mouth still.

It does not count if you do not believe it, Master Obi.

“I… I still struggle. Forgive me.”

We know… We forgive you…

It still made him cry. Because he had struggled so much to forgive himself, was not even sure to have achieved it entirely yet.

You forgave me.

The voice was fierce in the Force, and Obi-Wan exhaled, opening his eyes once more, reaching out through the Cosmic Force once more.

“Yes. Of course I did.”, he said, very softly, remembering yellow eyes in a gaunt, dark and red face.

Eyes that had turned to gold, as the Force had finally welcomed him back.

“I broke you. And you broke me back. It was an unending circle, Maul. And you were not the one spinning it.”

The Force was silent for a while, and Obi-Wan thought back of this moment, a year ago, when he had drawn his lightsaber for the last time. For Luke. For the Light.

His crystal had stayed silent and hidden ever since.

He had tried to bring balance once more. Tried to mend what had been broken.

The Sand people, first, who were still making offerings to their secret shrines, fearful of the desert demon Anakin had become in their minds. Obi-Wan had meditated close to these shrines, countless times, diffusing the Force with calming, peaceful currents.

You are safe. He will not harm you again.

There had been no more raids towards moisture farmers either, Obi-Wan had made sure of that. No more fighting for dominion in the desert – but protection towards everyone.

I told you so, Obi’ka.

“Yes, dearest”, he whispered. “I know you abhorred violence, and preferred neutral solutions. I suppose using Force currents isn’t entirely neutral, though…”

Well, it depends…

He loved the playfulness the Force always conveyed through Satine’s presence. It felt like a gentle warmth, against his spine. Something to lean on.

Padawan. One day, you will have to face him.

Qui-Gon’s voice was a grave reminder, and brought Obi-Wan back to the night and the desert once more.

Him.

His Padawan, who had committed atrocities Obi-Wan still struggled to believe, even after decades. Who was still alive, in a black, terrifying armour, circling the Galaxy and coming nearer and nearer in the Force, forcing Obi-Wan to shield, fiercely, and mute both his and Luke’s presences.

There is still goodness in him.

“I know, Padmé.”

Anakin had burned like the fiercest light in the Force. His Padawan had harboured the raw, explosive strength that came with true power – but there had been wounds and cracks in his soul Obi-Wan had failed to see and mend.

No, Padawan.

Obi.

Master Obi-Wan.

“He was… too attached”, Obi-Wan whispered. “To those he loved. To you, Shmi. To you, Padmé. To you, dearest Ahsoka. And… to me.”

The night cradled Obi-Wan, the stars kissed his hair like every eve, on the high peaks of the Western Dune Sea. He was cloaked in his brown robe, the one marking him as a Jedi, but could as well be a farmer’s or a traveller’s.

“It sprang from love. I know it sprang from love. But he was misled. Darkness surrounded him from the very first day.”

Sidious.

Once more, Maul’s fierce whisper echoed through the Force, the name resonating like a curse.

“Sidious. And fear. And loneliness. And pride. And a sense of exception that turned into expectations so crushing and contradictory it breached his very soul.”

Do you pity him?

Ah. This was the stern voice of his Grandmaster, who spoke very rarely to him, but whose words Obi-Wan had learned to mark.

“I do. I do feel nothing but compassion and love for Anakin. But, if I have to strike down Vader to free him, I will.”

Are you willing to lay down your life, for him?

It was a test – one more test. Obi-Wan knew it, had been used to the Force’s teachings, who often chose to spoke through voices he loved. So Obi-Wan searched his heart, thoroughly, and let the Force flow through him before he answered.

“Not for him. But for balance, for peace… I am.”

The voices were silent, for a while, becoming one with the Force once more. They were all so close. So close to Obi-Wan now. Sometimes his very atoms seemed to resonate with theirs, separated only by a tiny veil from their very essence… Parts and sums alike.

Soon, my Padawan.

Qui-Gon’s voice echoed once more – a prophecy, a warning, perhaps. But to Obi-Wan, it sounded like a promise.

Like small sparks of hope, shining like a beacon in the infinite darkness of the sky, flooding the Force with light.

FINIS.

[libidomechanica]

“Be gin simmer, sir”

A limerick sequence

               1

Have from thee. Be gin simmer, sir. The Thrifty Sanhedrins to plume the Regal    Rights. But soon as breath    and feel you are coming on like a parting man. For spiders.

               2

And die cluster of the Southern sky; thy longing, though he looketh toward the    two are gone to sea, yet,    ye are seven! And beauty made me the plain sae rashy, O!

               3

Up the sting to the wide desert all around. Or duchess, princess sleeps. One    last look wanton-wise. You    charm’d me not with its death- wound, its wound on my breasts and small hips.

               4

Sweet lies at most. Was left upon his way. Was it yesterday call yet once    that she was wildly clad;    her eyes, as from a man’s bed, I’m fley’d it mak me eerie, sir.

               5

Kisses, how? Your lips and our dayes run the same Designs, and streight therewithal,    smooth as is the voice    and fall. And a heavy day I was arisen out of bed?

               6

To aid the bower of beauty still. Like womens Leachery, to see him    or know thee, and nothing    loved ever along a weary way, but night determinate.

               7

While Pan and fairest maid was bonie Jean. Great joy was hers, or rather be your    sacrifice receiv’d in    sight of thine eyes attempred to the Cape. Has but changed her face.

               8

Their lives in and outruns Desire. And did you determine, as we pass,    you take of my beloved    turned in the end. And that made the old hope for no esteem.

               9

Still roam free. Till love is laid. Jenny kissed me where all was colour’d hed, milke    hands, gathered shake dew on    the courtier’s art. Would search with thee and warmth, which I not kept.

               10

They strike up and streight the Priest, whom I look upon thine. All Compexions some    Eyes take delight, it soon    would have been, if Destiny had higher place was t’other way.

               11

And runs the circuit of my life, misled, and Europe’s Liberator’—    still enslaved. To other    Israelite complain. In vain I have done that life should not rise.

               12

Now what could be dear call once yet! That I have a Right Supreme Command, giv’n    by thee, his deadly breath    in the rest, with lullaby then wink awhile, with lullaby?

               13

Let his Love Enchant your generous,— all such ladies are: love, that opprest    the sun; coral is far    above their alert enemies the most! If I could not beene.

               14

Some hunger, too, they say. Children’, as they are side by side; and now approach    Love’s world shall not go again;    love sells the morning came, and by the sand-hills, at the end.

               15

You are a national product and power. Aye, all day from this first love-salute    was interchanged:    the reigning favourite to death, her soul may drink of thy Name.

               16

Come, my beloved among the sweetest buds doth love, and all the worst cause    of hate.—Farewell, fair    Armida, my joy and my body that flows down into a worse.

               17

If I may have larks. Are burthens for a Camel, not a King: kings are    Negligent or Weak? Then follows    thee, my sunflower heeds not her poore Slaues vniust decaying.

               18

Thy two breasts. Sleeps should know why they write, and frost will blight that floats into your    life, which be, so you will;    heroic if you dare the true; and if such sweet ecstasy!

               19

As tis for Parents to foresee, make Heirs for Monarks, and shews the painter’s    art. I’ll seek him who, in    my mind, to make the Prince, Severe and Wise, imparts not the cates.

               20

Of thy neck is as a winter’s tale? Of the aching hed, pray that made the    Jews; for towns once burnt, turn’d    a foe in hope to get our souls fly to th’ shades of loue.

               21

Let who will the flittering two angels look surprise on one another’s    house, my heart? Robert Burns:    king and a father reason; my soul’s full meaning into white.

               22

Mounts up, and gold, that the East doth hold. The lake in the day, he saw Menalcas    come therewith the    effort of its own skin, her pearls. Does him to prolong the Jews.

               23

Boot, at least a part of me! She was silver, too. My love is blind but with    light. And not so stout, nor    gates are driven: they strike the Priest, who better than the despair.

               24

Not always will be Eastern hill where you mark’d but the cold relief; you all    have been no rents at all,    and lo! And though tears thou shalt find it merit their merriment.

               25

Till love exhausted, driven out of season: never more than the Lark, to    fetch in the goal, when ’t    is theogony? Whom fair Corinna sits, and Recording Muse.

               26

But free from flower and pride of a’ the glen sae bushy, O! Son, who had    shone in the Ephesian    ruins howl by night, each with you white, black, or copper—the dead?

               27

About coming in a man, compare thou shalt from every vulgar tongues high    race, whom Kings no Titles    gave, and, forsooth: I have seen from me. He must, let’s goe a Maying.

               28

Was a ta’en city, thirty thousand. Love that endures, from my mother. Some    people which is another    counts me as About Ferguson, deceiving elf.

               29

But now so too, too wise to look upon the graves and showers from the forests    far away, until    he can make it from the rock. At last wet step before her still.

               30

To that colour fix’d; beauty no pencil, beauty’s summer and wide, and withers    in a rowe? Of each    encumbrance clear them, were Crime is God’s beloved among them.

               31

Thy comfort me with too much, and dies out Hem! Overhead, overhead rushes    life in me. Like men    in Feavers burn and rave, as fast as specie can, upon his way.

               32

Though I now write fifty years, his peers? Your oversight. A shade, out of them.    We shall together. I    did look, sharp as a lynx, and yet leaue me helplesse meerely?

               33

If thou die before i’ll kiss thee; yea, I should narrate. As to do no thing    to require, let Law    then shouldst not abhor my state: if thy unworthy of thy Reign?

               34

Be Strong; sharp shall sting. Of that room is eel-black. Shoot of Passion could tye. She    has virgin face. It once    mingled love first Ismail’s capture caught him, but I could not rise.

               35

Sicker I hold it law that when we entered, reached the second was Ambition    Blinds! Though modest, on    his goodly death; that as the tomb bestrew wherein affection.

               36

Does him to prolong their band was worthless song, darkening, black as a raven.    More turning into his    garden, and Phillis refused me! And overwhelms us all.

               37

And the porch we left by, Norman; took our look at sea and land, for sure it    was sweet-season’d showers    of rubles rain, as all thy might but enjoy content. And lo!

               38

Which he could not be beleeued, but he came. Yet eyes this cunning Painter takes    in any curious    way the whole empress, nor forgetting quite the word of sugar.

               39

Except thou payèd were. With me—or fall from thee. For thro’ the languid rout of    our sensations! Openly    love’s fuellers, and speak the thing in every part, I could sup!

               40

He is not enough to common air. Of perilous seas, in faery lands    forlorne? Within the gallant    friends, and blear-eyed Will the Noble seed; david, for him not.

               41

And thither half the neighbouring borough wind and runs the circuit of my    life’s whole soul toward the    suspicion. Behold, thou mine, I thine, even as when raging sea!

               42

She found a path full of Angels from her fall: she fell with oath to make me    who I am, entirely.    Heroic if you come, some ballad or a songs sake.

               43

Climb! Around my Highland lassie, O. As tis for Pardon. Or have tasted    the Pigmy Body to    decay: and no spurre can his resty race renewe, without pause!

               44

And in that she went away? For his mind; and Fortune and me, is a pure    cup of coffee to soothe    his woes with a Jealousies and pearl in rubies set, for teeth.

               45

Right hand should narrate. Among which go up from the chamber keeping it because    thou art all that, the    game, and on the Crown; and so we forged a sevenfold story.

               46

Nymph of al, of Oliue braunches, who threw into a Russian couplet rather    more will bore any sweet    lies at most. Ruby-lipp’d and tooth’d with renown, and, in betwixt.

               47

And being brave. The wind, a substance like stone than this thy stature more sweet    than another country’s    gore, and winding me, knowing thy bridal bed, that Love’s fine wit.

               48

Looks backward, I could be too has been given; Still wouldst thou payèd were. ’Re made    for May: and o’r inform’d    his Youthfull Image in his vault where art thou goest safe, supreme.

               49

If Mildness Ill with gems and golden, shows the decay we’re made of stone and    drew, from butts of water    on the flow of—was it yesterday? Snarling strange was the few.

               50

Can abide to keep fair play. Find out the knolls a dozen angry models    jetted steam: a petty    railway ran: a fire-balloon rose gem-like up before the wine.

               51

Her soul made me go to the grave, letting from the gate, and, tis my wish, and    never say suppose a    Monarch which they contends, it selfe this vaine scuse giue? What is Love?

               52

His grief is their poison brought a Crime. Juan, who for pickings prowl, and so grac’d    to be in the world they    by my Mercy scan, beware the Fury of a Patient Man.

               53

Sweet soul that reach up the hills. Or the mountain shower, too weak, for all her    nerves, just as we reap in    joy the fruit there: big and bobbing wax fruit, sweating with blue plums.