#Visions of the Daughters of Albion

[uwmspeccoll]

Marbled Monday

This week for Marbled Monday we return to the work of William Blake as published by the Trianon Press and the William Blake Trust. The poem is Visions of the Daughters of Albion, which was first published by William Blake in 1793 with his own illustrations. This Trianon Press edition was published in 1959 and is a facsimile of the original, meaning it was reproduced as closely as possible, including Arches pure rag paper made to match that which was used by Blake. The paper also features a watermark of Blake's monogram in the lower corner of every sheet.

The edition is quarter-bound in orange leather and orange, brown, and tan marbled paper. The paper is a really interesting pattern, similar to Cockerell's Octopus or Whirl pattern. It is difficult to tell who did the marbling because it isn't stated in the colophon, but it is possibly by French marbler Michel Duval, who the Trianon Press used frequently for their marbled papers. It could also be by Cockerell, but seems less likely judging by the number of mentions of Duval in the finding aid for the Trianon Press Archives at UC Santa Cruz.

View more Marbled Monday posts.

View more posts about the Trianon Press.

-- Alice, Special Collections Department Manager

[silverskye13]

God this latest chapter is sooooo good. [Gordon Ramsey voice] finally some good fucking philosophical debate and analysis. The way you wrote Tango and Wels’ argument in relation to Tanguish reminds me a lot of like….this is really far off and my specific branch of literary autism but William Blake’s Visions of the Daughters of Albion, where everyone just talks around the person the entire argument is about, and when they try to contribute they’re pushed off and dismissed. But in this case, instead of this continuing into a cycle of despair like the poem, Tanguish is able to break that cycle and push the argument into new revolutionary ideas. Which is just. Sooooo fucking good. 10/10 I love Tanguish so much

Oooo going to have to give that poem a read.

Tanguish! I've had a lot of fun showcasing how he's grown as a character in these latest chapters and it's,,,, nice. I am also rooting very hard for this little guy. I'm glad the story has compelled you to also root for him! There's a lotta catharsis right now lol

[book--brackets]

The Hollow Kingdom Trilogy by Clare B. Dunkle (2003-2005)

For thousands of years, young women have been vanishing from Hallow Hill, never to be seen again. Now Kate and Emily have moved there with no idea of the land's dreadful heritage--until Marak decides to tell them himself. Marak is a powerful magician who claims to be the goblin king, and he has very specific plans for the two new girls who have trespassed into his kingdom . . .

Healer and Seer by Victoria Henley (2000-2004)

Legend states that there exists a mighty sword that makes its possessor invincible to his enemies. But there is a curse on anyone who lifts the sword for conquest. King Kareed of Archeld goes after this sword anyway, winning it from the King of Bellandra. When he returns home from battle, he brings his daughter, Princess Torina, two special gifts. One is a unique crystal, in which she can view visions of the future. The other gift is the defeated king’s son Landen, who is to be her slave. Torina immediately releases Landen, who becomes a member of the King’s army and her close friend.

But trouble is lurking in the kingdom of Archeld and people are accusing Landen of plotting against the King. Torina refuses to believe he would hurt her family. Then Torina begins seeing deadly visions in her crystal. Can she save her father’s life and the future of her kingdom?

Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones (1985)

Polly has two sets of memories...

One is normal: school, home, friends. The other, stranger memories begin nine years ago, when she was ten and gate-crashed an odd funeral in the mansion near her grandmother's house. Polly's just beginning to recall the sometimes marvelous, sometimes frightening adventures she embarked on with Tom Lynn after that. And then she did something terrible, and everything changed.

But what did she do? Why can't she remember? Polly must uncover the secret, or her true love — and perhaps Polly herself — will be lost.

The Medoran Chronicles by Lynette Noni (2015-2019)

Dreading her first day at a new school, Alex is stunned when she walks through a doorway and finds herself stranded in Medora, a fantasy world full of impossibilities. Desperate to return home, she learns that only a man named Professor Marselle can help her... but he's missing.

While waiting for him to reappear, Alex attends Akarnae Academy, Medora's boarding school for teenagers with extraordinary gifts. She soon starts to enjoy her bizarre new world and the friends who embrace her as one of their own, but strange things are happening at Akarnae, and Alex can't ignore her fear that something unexpected... something sinister... is looming.

An unwilling pawn in a deadly game, Alex's shoulders bear the crushing weight of an entire race's survival. Only she can save the Medorans, but what if doing so prevents her from ever returning home?

The Girl With Silver Eyes by Willo Davis Roberts (1980)

Everyone knows that Katie is different. The first thing people notice about her are her shiny silver eyes, but even they are not her most unique feature. If they paid a bit more attention, they might see that, as well as being very clever, she attracts strange activity. She can move her glasses back up her nose without touching them and freak weather seems to follow her around. However, when Katie moves to a new neighbourhood, she begins to realise that she might not be the only one who has the ability to do unbelievable things. Join Katie as she struggles to learn more about her place in two very different worlds. A magical story about a magical girl, with powers almost as sharp as her sensational silver eyes.

The Song of Albion by Stephen R. Lawhead (1991-1991)

From the dreaming spires of Oxford, Lewis Gillies drives north to seek a mythical creature in a misty glen in Scotland. Expecting little more than a weekend diversion, Lewis finds himself in a mystical place where two worlds meet, in the time-between-times--and in the heart of a battle between good and evil. The ancient Celts admitted no separation between this world and the Otherworld: the two were delicately interwoven, each dependent on the other. The Paradise War crosses the thin places between this world and that, as Lewis Gillies comes face-to-face with an ancient mystery--and a cosmic catastrophe in the making.

The World of Riverside by Ellen Kushner (1987-2002)

On the treacherous streets of Riverside, a man lives and dies by the sword. Even the nobles on the Hill turn to duels to settle their disputes. Within this elite, dangerous world, Richard St. Vier is the undisputed master, as skilled as he is ruthless—until a death by the sword is met with outrage instead of awe, and the city discovers that the line between hero and villain can be altered in the blink of an eye.

The Tarot Sequence by K. D. Edwards (2018-present)

Rune Saint John, last child of the fallen Sun Court, is hired to search for Lady Judgment's missing son, Addam, on New Atlantis, the island city where the Atlanteans moved after ordinary humans destroyed their original home.

With his companion and bodyguard, Brand, he questions Addam's relatives and business contacts through the highest ranks of the nobles of New Atlantis. But as they investigate, they uncover more than a missing man: a legendary creature connected to the secret of the massacre of Rune's Court.

In looking for Addam, can Rune find the truth behind his family's death and the torments of his past?

Bardic Voices by Mercedes Lackey (1992-1997)

With the proper schooling young Rune would be one of the greatest bards her world has ever seen. Even if only she knows it. Unfortunately, the daughter of a tavern wench at the Hungry Bear, no matter how talented, doesn't get much in the way of formal training. What she does get is frustrated. 

One night, to back up a brag she probably wouldn't have made if she weren't so mad, she went up to play her fiddle for the Ghost of Skull Hill. Everyone knows that no one who has ever gone up Skull Hill has come down again. Not alive, anyway. 

But when the ghost appears Rune Strikes a bargain: if the ghost tires of her playing before morning her life is his; if he is still listening when the sun glints over yonder hill she will have earned both life and a sack of silver. Let the music begin...

The Squire's Tales by Gerald Morris (1998-2010)

Life for the young orphan Terence has been peaceful, living with Trevisant, the old Hermit in a quiet, isolated wood.

That is, until the day a strange green sprite leads him to Gawain, King Arthur's nephew, who is on his way to Camelot hoping to be knighted. Trevisant can see the future and knows that Terence must leave to serve as Gawain's squire. From that moment on, Terence's life is filled with heart-stopping adventure as he helps damsels-in-distress, fights battles with devious men, and protects King Arthur from his many enemies.

Along the way, Terence is amazed at his skills and new-found magical abilities. Were these a gift from his unknown parents? As Gawain continues his quest for knighthood, Terence searches for answers to the riddles in his own past.

[bunnyhopbooks]

12/09/2024 - Visions of the Daughters of Albion

[the-king-and-the-druidess]

AU: Lady of the Mists. Uther put up with Ygraine's death, and the Purge never happened. Lady Nimueh remained in Camelot as a Court Sorceress. She replaced Arthur's mother, and often his Father when he was losing himself in the memories of his lost love. Nimueh reared Arthur, taught him, helped him to respect the good force of magic and its immutable laws; she loved him because he had Ygraine's the most blue of eyes. But when he turned seven, she suddenly left the Castle for the first time for a long time.

"Aunt Nimueh, I missed you so much!" Arthur hugged her when she arrived, her azure cloak smelling of night dew. "Where have you been? Why did you leave me?"

Nimueh smiled gently at the boy, "There is someone else that I have to take care of, my Prince."

"What?.." Arthur was already jealous of this person.

"There is a girl that was brought on the Island of the Blessed, my old home. I help her with her magic and visions. She's very nice, her name is Morgana. You'd love her."

Little Arthur didn't like either that name or the fact that he had to share Aunt Nimueh with some slip of a girl on some unknown island. He was sure this girl must be bad.

As the years passed, Arthur grew older, Nimueh's absences became longer. But when she returned to Camelot, she always dumped Arthur with stories about that Morgana, about how beautiful, smart, brave, strong and cheerful she was. He thought his Aunt Nimueh probably seemed to be setting this stranger up as an example to him. Arthur couldn't stand, perhaps hated the very name of this Morgana. He often thought if she loves the things he loves: horses, shining swords, lute music, pranks and her father. If she has one, of course. Plus, do the priestesses girls ever have fun?.

A few more years passed, and the year of his crowning as crown prince came. His father held a great feast; all the nobility and knightdom of Albion gathered to celebrate. Arthur enjoyed the attention and love of the court, but something was missing. The only mother he knew. And suddenly Nimueh entered the grand hall, followed by a lovely young woman in mist-coloured silks.

"My dear boy, let me introduce you to my pupil, Lady Morgana, daughter of Sir Gorlois."

So this was the Morgana? The annoying bane of his childhood he never met but knew so well? Arthur was fascinated by the beauty of her green deep eyes, and decided to put aside his prejudices and be a gallant knight. Maybe he was wrong and Morgana was good after all, if Aunt Nimueh loved her. He definitely was wrong about her. He was foolish, childish. The next day at the festive tournament, Arthur handed Morgana a triumphal wreath on his spear, wanting to appoint her queen of the tournament and escorting her to the next feast and dancing but she, with an elegant and teasing smirk, arranged everything so that the wreath fell into the hands of Guinevere, her maid.

Arthur had never been rejected before. He got angry, and blushed, and was offended and head over heels. And so the battle of love and rivalry has begun. Nimueh looked at them and smiled, she just knew her brilliant children would love each other, for it has been foretold long before they were born.

[apinchofm]

Hey! What's your Next Generation Merlin headcanons?

Ooh, it's a lot of fun!

Starting with Alys, the eldest: she is her mother's daughter and wants to help where she can.

Always looking for her purpose outside of merely being a Princess. Her mother's skill set is so far outside the norm for Queens, she wishes to be like her!

A brilliant archer who enjoys her books and studies too.

Close to Arthur; when she's angry she's his mini me - Sir Leon's son, Tristan knows this rather well!

Onto the son, the crown prince himself, Llacheu Pendragon

He is his father's son - handsome, just, strives to be the best.

A brilliant jouster and swordsman in his own right! Guinevere worries, of course.

He and Arthur but heads a lot as he gets older but never to the extent that Uther and Arthur did.

Always wanting to protect those he cares for - he can make fun of Alys on a bad hair day, but if anyone else does, he has them put in the stocks.

Merlin and Gwen sometimes make fun of how alike Llacheu and Arthur are.

But he still wishes to prove himself to the people of Camelot and Albion and keep his parent's vision alive.

And for the baby - Elinor!

A curious child who is often found in the gardens. Gwen and Arthur will sit with her for hours as she runs around or picks flowers - sometimes the occasional insect is found.

Gwaine keeps all her 'treasures' prettier insects in a glass case.

The favourite of the knights - she's adorable.

And Merlin can very much tell Elinor is rather different from her siblings in a magical way!

[prue84]

National Treasure instagram: Dragon photobombing

Fandom: BBC’s Merlin (post-canon, modern magic) AU AU: National Treasure Series: National Treasure instagram — [ Reblogs > Likes | No AI involved ] —

Have you thought your children were the most stressful creatures on Earth? You never tried to be dad to a dragon.

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It didn't take Aithusa, the albino dragonling good omen for Albion's future, much time outside of her egg before deciding that Arthur is just a different race of dragons - no scales, no wings, no fire, and ignorant in dragon language, but definitely still a dragon. After all, he's named Pendragon, so it means he is a dragon, right? And, since Arthur named himself "Chief of dragons" and she is the "Light of the Sun" that will bring forth a new age for dragons, it comes without saying that he's her father. Right right? The Aithusa-logic is flawless. So this knee-high to a grasshopper dragonling has the power to impose her own vision on the mighty Once and Future King, forcing him to accept that he's meant to be the dragon daddy of an annoying creature that is a ferret software running on dragon hardware (well, Arthur isn't that much well versed in technology, but he saw a similar use of computer terms to describe foxes and thought it applied for Aithusa as well). The legendary warking has begrudgingly submitted himself to the responsibility of raising the dragonling as his own, but the task at times feels more draining that leading a war against the Saxons: the dragonling has too much energy for her own good! Merlin had some errands to take care to, and left (dragon)dad and dragon daughter alone at the castle. This is what he found when he returned home.

More about the AU under the cut. (More fanworks from this AU at the links above)

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About the AU It’s the 21th century and the existence of magic has been widely known since Guinevere, the last queen of Camelot, lifted the ban and had made Merlin her own advisor. With the centuries the myth of the Once and Future King has grown unchecked: Arthur Pendragon belongs to the category of the great people of history who the most have influenced the world, with the only difference that he will one day return. Magic, for a number of circumstances never verified (possibly a mix of abuse and industrialization), seems like having been drained, leaving only the passive one: charms applied to old houses or objects still works, but new charms cannot be cast and are ineffective. Immortality is a rare gift unavailable to most, but few people belonging to the world Before The Drain still live, the oldest of them born in the Late Renaissance age. Merlin, former wizard and oldest man of the world as the only one alive since the Middle Ages, is considered the world’s grumpy uncle, that one parent who is a font of knowledge and tells funny stories about an otherwise serious topic like History but isn’t willing to sit down and socialize with the youngsters (which means basically anyone, to him). Told to be always traveling, he imparts his knowledge almost exclusively through his blog, “Merlin’s Cave”. Unknown to all, though, Merlin has also a second identity under which he lives an almost ordinary life: Gaius de Bois, young professor of Medieval History at the University of Avalon, down-to-heart person, a professor much loved by his students, and, especially “nephew” of the Great Merlin. Arthur Pendragon emerges from the secluded Lake of Avalon and his return is made official by Merlin with a post on his Instagram, a photo about the two halves of a broken coin (with Merlin’s and Arthur’s profile) reunited. Arthur leads a quiet life, residing in Merlin’s cottage on the shores of the lake, with his grumpy (not-so) former servant to protect him from meddlers and fanatics. To preserve and allocate the necessary resources to restore a conducive environment for him and his needs of Middle Ages man, he is given the title of National Treasure that grants him a monthly revenue, total coverage of expenditures and funds to restore the castle of Camelot – castle that Merlin has preserved by magically miniaturizing it and placing it in a snow-less globe. Merlin, through his social media and website, shares with the world the chronicles of how his king is adjusting to the modern times. Arthur is initially followed by paps and generally by the curiosity of the people: it’s just Merlin’s angry presence (and an endless stream of ordinances) that shelters Arthur from the frenzy although soon it becomes an ordinary sight to see the king going around wearing his armor and sunglasses. When Camelot is restored, it gets the status of Principality within the United Kingdom, a kind of enclave named New Camelot on which Arthur is granted absolute power: initially a city-state enclosed within the strong walls of the citadel, it grows when further lands and pastures are assigned to the principality to assure Camelot’s self-sufficiency. Life in New Camelot, per Arthur’s choice, doesn’t reflect the innovations happened after the king’s death, and the citadel will become a haven for people who wish to live a simpler life or simply unplug a bit from the modern times. With time Arthur will fully embrace the perks of modernity, thanks to Merlin (and his money) who spoils him, and he’ll even get a driving license (against Merlin’s will). But that’s another story for another time.

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Notes Manip started in 2020. For some reason it was held back. I don't remember why. Also, I was stuck with the text for the post. Which might be the reason of the whole holding back thing. The most challenging part of this was to fit my signature.

Originally, the post was meant to feature only one picture. The decision of making three was made in late August, when I wrapped up the Instagram portion of the project and decided that I didn't like how the full picture (now #2) looked.

Tec stuffs (aka Behind The Manip) Instagram graphic made all by-hand, with much moving/copy/pasting and, especially, a wearying research to find out which font the website used. No template site. Since I created my own template, it won't reflect any future changes the platform might make (I have no intention of modify my template).

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Crossposted Livejournal: prue84.livejournal.com/98953.html Dreamwidth: prue84.dreamwidth.org/90241.html Deviantart: deviantart.com/prue84/art/Dragon-photobombing-instagram-981846867 (instagram post), deviantart.com/prue84/art/Dragon-photobombing-981846885 (photo 1), deviantart.com/prue84/art/Dragon-photobombing-photo-2-981846913 (photo 2), deviantart.com/prue84/art/Dragon-photobombing-photo-3-981846924 (photo 3)

[roxyandelsewhere]

minding my business reading Visions of the Daughters of Albion by William Blake and then bam I'm thinking about sense8 again

[vlindervin7]

from "Visions of the Daughters of Albion" by William Blake (plate 6)

[godeaterazathoth]

OUTDATED

More Hedd Wyn Lore time yay

Background

Hedd Wyn belongs to an ethnic group that resides in the mountains called Albion they used to be more prolific but due to persecution only one group remains, the Llewelyn clan, who are said to be dissidents of a great folk hero who guided the remaining people to the safety of the mountains. The land they call home is an old fort they converted into a village they call it Meirionnydd, but in the surrounding countries call it stormvail. The people mostly raise mountain live stock and hunt to survive. Albions are known for their black smithing, their swords never snap or even chip, they are also known for their tapestry’s, however they are mostly known for their work as mercenaries. The men are organised under the clan head and travel for work in war. The woman remain in the village doing most of the home keeping. People in Albion follow a different denomination of the church than most following a more Unitarian world view.

Family

Hedd Wyn’s father was a man named Dic Siôn Dafydd a man hated by Albion for turning his back on the people and culture for his own material wealth, Hedd Wyn’s mother is a woman named Rowena a madwoman, Dafydd’s proposal to Rowena was rejected by her family but he convinced her to run away with him to live in luxury, Rowena’s uncle sent a party to find them but they only found Rowena after a year living in a brothel with the infant Hedd Wyn after Dafydd ditched her when he found out she was pregnant. Upon returning to Albion Rowena was remarried to a man named Macsen Wledig, who already had one daughter named Elen. Rowena had gone mad with grief by this point blaming Hedd Wyn for Dafydd leaving her due to Hedd Wyn being born both male and female, Rowena believed her to be a demon and abused and neglected her never even giving her a name, Macsen hardly stopped this he and many other looked down on Hedd Wyn due to who her father was. Rowena eventually calmed down when she had a child with Macsen another daughter named Rhiannon.

Rowena’s uncle was the clan’s leader Gwrtheyrn, related through his sister Mirika. All of Gwrtheyrn’s sons died in battle and of Mirika’s children only Rowena survived until adulthood. Mirika was an important religious leader in the Albion Church and had as much power as her brother even in her old age.

Childhood

Upon Hedd Wyn’s birth Mirika had a vision of Albion being saved by a white dragon with bright eyes that pierced dark clouds, she was confused by this dream, the dragon could not have been her brother because his symbol was a silver boar, her questions went unanswered until the birth of Rhiannon where she met the unnamed child for the first time (when Hedd Wyn was 5), before this Hedd Wyn was raised like a servant and treated like an animal sleeping with the animals in the barn being fed leftovers and being ignored, however she never complained or showed any anger to her mother or even her step sister who mocked her for her body, Hedd Wyn’s eyes always stayed bright.

Upon seeing Hedd Wyn’s white hair and bright eyes Mirika knew she was the white dragon, she adopted Hedd Wyn as her own giving her her name, a symbol of her prophecy. Many were sceptical that the child of a traitor could bring any good but believed in Mirika’s judgment. Now living with Mirika Hedd Wyn caught the eye of her gate uncle Gwrtheyrn, who began teaching her sword play and letting her sit in on his councils, he began treating her as is she were is own personally teaching her swordsmanship. She received a vast education, politics, economics, literature recourse management, music, weaving hunting, anything Mirika thought would be useful. When Hedd wyn was 11 she contracted Tuberculosis. She decided not to tell anyone so Mirika wouldn’t worry she learned how to treat it by herself. Around here she found a young boy being raised by bandits Mirika decides to take him in as Hedd Wyn’s shadow naming him Blaidd.

Before the story

When Hedd Wyn was 15 Mirika passed away, Hedd Wyn was the one who to perform the funeral rights. After Gwrtheyrn adopted her and gave her his family name Llewelyn, At this point the people fully accepted Hedd Wyn, however Macsen and his supporters didn’t accept her, (Macsen was the only other person who could inherit from Gwrtheyrn) so to prove herself to them, she left Albion to kill Dafydd, taking Blaidd with her.

Prologue

Hedd Wyn and Tori were passing through on the day of the festival while exploring she saw a drunk man assaulting a woman and child she made her way through the crowd when Leon got involved then Chevalier got involved but before anyone could do anything Hedd Wyn punched the guy across the town square for putting a woman and child in Danger, this is what caught a certain minister’s attention.

Bonus!!!!

Hedd Wyn’s opinion on all the boys

Chevalier: ever since she saw him kill those assassins she’s been spellbound, Mirika told her she should pick a man that can dice up another man well, she sees him as the moon, a bright light in the dark, she points out that he is very human due to having ambition. She thinks he’s cute when he’s sleeping in the morning admires his conviction, she gave him an endearing nickname ‘Lia’.

Leon: Hedd Wyn’s casual with everyone even more so when it comes to Leon, in some ways he reminds her of her own brother Bran, as they are similar in temperament.

Luke: most of the relationship is one sided due to her reminding him of his sister, they both faced neglect from their mothers, Hedd Wyn was never close with her sisters, but she likes his chill vibes.

Yves: to Hedd Wyn he’s a girl and so she treats him like a girl, even calling him princess, to Hedd Wyn it’s the role you take that determines if your male or female, this came from the fact she was raised like a boy. Also since she treats him like she would a girl, she is unusually respectful towards him.

Licht: she likes that he doesn’t talk too much but she also thinks he doesn’t talk enough, she always wants to know what he’s thinking, in her culture twins are a good sign because they symbolise a woman’s fertility .

Rio: she tried to keep her distance and have the boss deal with him but he kept pushing she always denies his advances but she tolerates him.

Nokto: she finds his flirtation annoying, it’s not that she has an issue with sleeping around but rather that he is always alone despite it, also for her it’s normal for women to have multiple partners but men usually only have one, so she thinks he’s disloyal.

Jin: she hates his flirting, especially when he comments on her small height or flat chest or her more masculine features, she will hit him if he goes too far, she thinks he’s too old to be acting like a child.

Kieth: there’s the obvious caution when dealing with him not only because of the secret but also due to the fact she can sense his alter, she’s always somewhat on edge when he’s around always gauging him for small changes in personality.

Gilbert: he sets off all her warnings, every instinct in her body tells her to run (she can sense the yandere) when forced to be near him her sword is always close and she checks all her exits

Sariel: she hates lessons and his way of her doing her job, she’d rather watch from the shadows than parade around as someone she isn’t and attract unwanted attention.

Clavis: she called him ugly to his face

Silvio: he causes nothing but trouble so she avoids him like the plague, she thinks he has too much jewellery on, an obnoxious amount of jewellery.

Trivia

Blood type O

She is 16-18 years old

The stars in her eyes are a symbolic representation of her drive, not the actual shape of her eyes.

Her birthday is on January 1st.

Hedd Wyn still suffers from Tuberculosis, she occasionally has coughing fits and once a year she gets bedridden, Blaidd is the only other person who knows.

She still lives in a barn with her families animals, she actually enjoys being there.

Her golden earring was something she bought on campaign, Blaidd has the other one

She doesn’t like being touched much she’ll only let certain people touch her

Her clothes are practical and mostly handmade, she tans her own leather weaves or buys the best fabric and has multiple coverings for different weather.

She is trained in smithing and makes her own weapons

Her sword was a gift from Gwrtheyrn, it’s an heirloom

The ribbons on her are cultural, young girls give them to warriors going to war as a good luck charm, Hedd Wyn is very.

She doesn’t like to waste food and will eat anything given to her, even Clavis’s ‘cooking’

When she was 4 she got ran over with a horse, she was fine

She enjoys hunting

Her handwriting is like a child’s, you can tell a lot of effort was put into making it legible, so it’s bigger than needed and all capitalised, it takes her twice as long to write anything

When she’s drunk her cute side comes out, she falls in and out of consciousness and blurts out all her secrets.

She invited her own sword style, it has a special move called the water fell dance, it can cut an enemy to peace’s before they even notice

She doesn’t have any food she won’t eat but she isn’t a fan of sweet things

She loves spicy food

She prepares her own food from hunting it to preserving the leftovers

She doesn’t sleep in her bed, she’ll sleep on the sofa, floor even on the roof, back home she slept on a pile of hay

[kaijusrpgbrainstorm]

New Year, New Character 2: Character Bugaloo

Well, I didn't do this last year, but I did the year before, and quite enjoyed it. Although I haven't bought many new games since then, so I'll be retreading at least a couple of systems. Starting with Eden Studio's Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Roleplaying Game. Specifically the revised edition. Last time, I mixed things up using material from Ghosts of Albion for a Victorian era party. This time we're bring it up to the modern day, with a couple of items borrowed from Angel. As a note, these write-ups ignore the events of the series and assume the basic set-up is still in play: One girl in all the world, and all that. So let's meet Max, the Vampire Slayer. "Welcome to Pleasantbrook, Florida, worst place on the planet. About halfway between Disneyworld and Miami, and it might as well be Chickentown, Kentucky for all there is to do here. It's just... the worst. A place that only exists because someone got tired and built a shack to rest in. After that, the shack became a town. A town grows things like schools, , churches, a hospital, and the old mental asylum that burnt down back in the 30s. "So here we are. I'm Max. Not Maxine. Max. I'm a middling student in a no-escape town with no prospects. Average grades at best. The only thing I'm good at is track and field, but the talent scouts keep skipping us. So I'm going nowhere. "And then, things changed. And not in the feel-good movie of the decade kind of way. That would have been so much better. No, I basically got the Stephen King treatment. Monsters are real. Most of them hate my guts because I'm some kind of mythical hero figure. I mean, I'm finding I'm stronger, faster, healing better. I'm not quite Captain America levels, but its something. "Except those monsters keep wanting to kill me. Or eat me. Or sacrifice me to their dark lord. And I had no idea what was going on until some British woman shows up with a big book of Do Not Want that apparently explains everything "She keeps telling me I shouldn't get close to people. Which, fine, I get, except that people keep getting involved anyway. Some guy from school who keeps being in the wrong place, somehow. An actual witch. That kinda intense guy who might just go Carrie on us all. Someone who just woke up a vampire. I don't know how that one's supposed to work. Oh, and it turns out there's a family of monster hunters out there, and their daughter is in town. We're making a pretty good team so far. Maybe we should work on a catch phrase?"

Name: Maxine “Max” Anderson

Concept: Novice Slayer

Character Type: Hero

Hit Points: 81

Drama Points: 10

Attributes (20pts)

Strength 4+3 (from Slayer)=7

Dexterity 4+3 (from Slayer)=7

Consitution 4+3 (from Slayer)=7

Intelligence 2

Perception 3

Willpower 3+2 (from Slayer)=5

Qualities (20 +2 from Drawbacks)

Attractiveness 1 (1pt)

Psychic Visions (1pt)

Slayer (16pts)

Resistance: Pain 2 (2pts)

Situational Awareness (2pts)

Detect Vampires (from Slayer)

Fast Reaction Time (from Slayer)

Nerves of Steel (from Slayer)

Hard to Kill 5 (from Slayer)

Regeneration: Con/Hour (from Slayer)

Drawbacks (6pts)

Adversary 5: Demons and Vampires (from Slayer)

Obligation: Total, Be the Slayer (from Slayer)

Love (2pts)

Secret: the Slayer (2pts)

Teenager (2pts)

Skills (20 +4 from Drawbacks)

Acrobatics 2

Art 1

Computers 1

Crime 2

Doctor

Drive

Getting Medieval 2+1 (from Slayer)=3

Gun Fu

Influence 2

Knowledge 2

Kung Fu 3+1 (from Slayer)=4

Languages 2

Mr Fix-It

Notice 3

Occultism 1

Science

Sport 3

Wild Card (x)

[uwmspeccoll]

Marbled Monday

This Marbled Monday we return to the publications of the Trianon Press and their editions of English poet, painter, and printmaker William Blake's (1957-1827) works. Why so much Trianon Press and William Blake lately? Well, because we had a whole bunch of it out recently and couldn't pass up the opportunity to post the beautiful marbling used in binding each volume. This is Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell in a facsimile edition published by the Trianon Press in 1960 for the William Blake Trust.

The marbling is the same pattern used for Trianon Press's edition of Visions of the Daughters of Albion, but in a green color palette instead of orange. This pattern can be called Octopus or Whirl and was likely not created until the 20th century.

View more posts about Trianon Press publications.

View more Marbled Monday posts.

-- Alice, Special Collections Department Manager

[grandhotelabyss]

I've been traveling, Professor Pistelli, so forgive me if these questions come a little late, but I just had a couple questions on Blake:

Thoughts on 'The Angel'? I can't quite discern its commentary on prudence and prurience

Thoughts on the last six stanzas of 'The Little Girl Lost'? This one I want to see done as a hallucinogenic Fantasia phantasia, but again I can't make out the shape of its mixture of pastoralism, alchemy, and pagan sexuality.

Also, what do you think it says of Blake's gender stuff that the Little Boy is lost and found in Innocence, but it's the Little Girl in Experience?

Any brief comments on Jerusalem's poetic worth? Or is it totally impenetrable to you

Lastly — and likely most controversially — how does one organize society if one believes that one law for the lion and the ox is oppression? Or should we give up on 'society' and return to a multiplicity of anarchist/libertarian individual relations?

"The Angel" seems like another "gather ye rose-buds" warning against female frigidity. Here Blake inhabits the female speaking role and gives it a martial feminist spunk. That the Angel is "mild" suggests a lack of appealing masculinity—this man serves in a nurturing, feminine role—but the last line also hints that he rejects her not because she's armed but because she's old. One of Blake's bitter and satirical poems about the relations between men and women, with both inadequate and in the wrong by his lights: a womanish man and a mannish woman.

The "little girl" leaves home, metaphorically loses her virginity, and becomes a woman. This apparently signifies the opening prophecy's transfiguration of earth from "desert" to "garden," where hostile nature becomes friendly to us, no longer a source of menace or fear. So the whole "little girl" narrative takes place within the realm of experience and shows experience's necessity. Nothing like this happens to "the little boy," who is found not by lions and tigers but by a somewhat sentimental, remote image of God. Blake places more emphasis—gather ye rose-buds!—on the responsibility of women to effect the needed transformation of humanity by opening themselves to sex, a theme writ large in the plea for free love of Visions of the Daughters of Albion. (Male feminists—what are you going to do?)

If Northrop Frye, Harold Bloom, and Alan Moore say Jerusalem is good, then it must be good. I read it once and not with a guide or a gloss. If I'd given it the attention I gave Ulysses or Gravity's Rainbow, then I'm sure it would have unfolded for me as those did. Its surface isn't as appealing as theirs, though, and that is a real flaw.

I'm not a utopian: we can't give up "society," all we can do is act within its strictures to secure and honor our own and others' individuality. This may require more of us in our everyday behaviors than it requires of statutes and constitutions. Blake almost certainly thought that "lion" and "ox" were alterable states of the soul and modes of perception, by the way, not that some are permanently natural predators and others natural beasts of burden.

Intriguing questions, thanks!

[libidomechanica]

A dead lock

A treochair sequence

                A dead lock. Of Time’s spoke: he places. Or can’t be history. By frail as

flowers first was some good ship may meet no remora. A belt of strong

and scar what Nature, and haggard with things existent? And hath spent her

wide eyes have been hid of old stone with fire and you heare the flocks by shallow

ringlet curl from two smart sabre gashes, deep and recollect this

way: now I recommend my woman- conqueror; woman-conquer grief,

the night; and that repose, and wondren at bright this hour in riding there

is the width of paved heaven be praise we the Virgin all distinction!

                If free from Eves failed. Reflects the shepherd lad, or adamant, to find.

                This is all it bright have not look of dull and true that inbent eyes, with

your Princess: she deems it rich to die ere I print age, for some other

speak their phantasies like a fate, indeed some difficult for she wish’d

the garters which pretty dear; till hopes are at rest, corroding in her

own opinion of an Alien Shah whose fancies of love, then the

more. Full character of war to compassion and—much taller—tree of

thee, thou said all, and waile thy selfe denies, so every woman, where

all friends. Sweet Birds sit broods on what might be deem’d to pour their way from one

anatomic. But not as slowly child lies at thy footstep of lost

liberties. High and really the cold miser spread in than put you might

bring that source of the shadows, over shore, whereto this stream of

sentimental bogle, which it came at billiards. Angels know are only

snatch a certainly thou wanderedst with mares; his daughters of Albion’s

isle. Music hath a vision of existence; whether thin wan fingertips

but sweepings all become more serious, she sees the gibier, they

please those fierce darts Despairer, where he is gone; and beside her speak; she

scars remain grounded; her eyes; and as a snowy sentences, the grave,

or in the more mysterious: for certain summer’s day, and what’s still

he’d wed with the tomb bestrew wherein tis her woman: these tears the soil.

                Aurora deem’d his honest man, and taste for such or such or such outrage,

and Campbell of beechen green darkness but thine shakes oft to critics,

or the green bank hath got blue devils, and plumes we rustling for a passions.

Space between my belief, the nightingale, rapt in health, and linden

alley: then she had dreaming, yet, not less prompt to medicine a health

to shed; she hugg’d it to his beard, and maiden fancies? Until the same

relation to thy thighs so closely cling that lived on. Her with jealousy,

be thought claim: Forbear, no love your true or false and smiles, her air like

slaue-borne Muscouite, I chose his life? And when I am old? This subject,

whether my very ears were made of night and tear. Thus everywhere! The

grate—I think such hazard, with rain: her silken vestments were born to his

own horse we got, and much, and sometimes too are not a jot, and out of

my skin and the earthly shore just now; for wrinkles, their passionate fire.

She dwelt or dwell his side; the cursed in the tyranny grew stronger stounds,

has somewhat of the tide the clock was echoing in my degree will.

I have not boldly: we will revives; amaz’d, she thoughts, like dinner

admitted as an aspect had an air of the vault to vent that which I

know ere the Greek Eve, Helen, from thee, this dress her stand a whirlwind: then

she dream it would fain be weaning back to me. Hey, rose, just buying time.

                Love bears logs into shadow from the bars to shed his spawn of taxborn

riches exposed to find where—oh, whereto this private, their pure bloody

French will dare the real world came the wall. And sweet, all raiment; no pretend

to Phoebus race. A battle array had made. She knew nought to dread

the sea in me out above a scroll: when I am old, o ye Graces,

where dwell nor remedy, could some day to thy bed, sweet lips murmuring

o’er her love I though her brain perplex’d, and main lifted her less true

needing. In safety in the first and tender pines in town. Where dwell nor

sought her pretty ring time. At Christ in the roses damask’d, red and gnarled.

Amongst the state, whose hopes to feede, and in pretence whatever found to

give it time but we will I thus early about a groan, or sigh, to

languish, and the land, whereby his own sweet with truth; a smooth thin light, and

having poet, ’ like a fiend in answered nothing new—like some hour to-

night! Tis over green darkness, something and drink this conduct free; regretted

halls, when exquisite the way the ripened peach in the Rose—and I

make myself and mists, and with the camel is to sit upon you. We

left them one tenants pass’d for further trie, by all his own sweet excess

by the chaste dames, his quality. But chafing me down. They will not cure!

                Her beauty. Her foot was long, till her selfe at last year hence? Sky, and in

the hues of myrtle; a gown made three days of straw and uncrumpling fern,

and four graves give up their art; they are,—very little: where paced them while

she sees herself upon him; t was hardly worth the king of the Sun:

’ then, with her head, and blazon’d baldric slung a mighty silver hammer

at them one tenants pass’d in visits, luncheons, thought. For being full of

grief, thou, best on t: March! Which show’d deep Passion’s errors hath a tour to

Rome, although something so flash on his thunder excommuning wit, and,

as well receives and for the stream with thee fade at the best: some slight thy

smoky fires: once we least, impervious, impervious, imperial

palace in our house is a flower, each like more like a lion

ramps at the clear’d hed, milke hands, adored, instead, who, praying all-sufficient

forth the virtue, she, my Dian of the garters which I doubt he

is fled, and much, and seen was not despair, together. My music sees

more subtle forced my swimming in the fever, are alter’d in woefull

bands: O noble gas floated free of compassions rends as her junior

by six weeks his your Psyche. And there he rules, all that gentlemen. Lovers

brook’d nor claim’d Of tumbling first, more or less.

                Perhaps because his lip to her I’d nothing this is she doing?

                Books than fees. It seems a sorry jest: but I will bleede; but the approach

of passages, will be careful housewives do a fly. In the first they

had bursts, and sorrow, hope and fields were very germ of ruin, rose from

you, light can see the chain of life is thorny; and helmes vnbruzed wexen

dayly browne. The Lady of Shalott. Juan had good zecchini, with her

hand, seek’st thou art or shame stole the red cloaks of max! Already … I’m

beginning to these? Like to a flame, who all give up the bass, than by single

un- green electrons. And hence between our faith thorns of Elfland

fairy one, why—these—are—men: I shudderings, no connubial turmoil

grows, and drew much the warm South, and midnight, to show its. ’Ring in the damsel’s

face—but never heard! That they played that is above payment? His cheek;

a kiss by you, sir, to see. Heaven’s Horizon, it were not despair?

As far from Sir Leoline will sleep: thetis baptized her thou this won’t be

history makes a dandy while Damon lay, which is but a lottery,

draw near a source. And others lie in bed, and many reasons: he is

warm, humid their own work out, and the night in what I throw off is ideal—

lower’d, like some classic pas—sans flaws— set off at speed, being into

place was a beginning was reckoning yields. As for the meadow sold.

                A solitary shadows and true, the weightye prise, what ails then in the

new world I ever trust that shudder but to be their union of bent

foam and ward; whose wounds of the wretched wight, even as the shore! The island

in chase, cries to take the spring from his devoured his blinded

eyes—so kissed against the lady Geraldine. But the Princess: Lady

Psyche and blade, bethrothed to one, and, neither call desolate and

paine. Singing a shameless has been friends. Or baser courteously Love closed

its little glittered leewardings, samite sheeted and rocks grow bright dungeons

lift of swimmers themselves, for thee were the ear, where lies thy pen both

alike; a night for ever. Take heed; with dandies dined; heard her spared me:

yet I know nor have a sister at the lady, who knelt by thy own

daughter’s initiation, not to forbear upon you. To the door,

above the praise, but die in yon rich sky, no subtile Serpents words

are still as none, his eye wider were than true, and their state or starch, as

an indifference to what remember, without something like a reality

more attaches—but heal me with me, her sinnes that myself

round me thou yet may suit or may not I that I was hardly known, she

had been, whilst her locks to fears, and say too, daily. Much I bear to touch!

                She rapt upon stone: a woman or wine, you’llhave to understand—be

dumb! Their hapless group, hoping t’ have since I exscribe yourself, foreseen—

tiny bottle which the west—I miss it! Save what we see in a murky

old niche in this be others vanish’d please those who sow them were

inherent—what were the mastiff old did pass, acquire the more’s the

jealous dolphins spouted up and accomplish’d the Marvel of the Zodiac’s

signs to thee, when Haidee threw herself, and shook to see us pass?

Some muttered leewardings, samite sheet. The Eagles at her face, and thee,

and shower, sixteen are the breeze, at once, but I an eagle soar! Back,

one and a father’s bloodless love, and, oh, the dear to kill, and he lovely

plight, for Colin fittest, as of a becasse; ’ and from the apparelled,

in any thing is heard on the gate; the grassy floor where we

must have been obliged to such friends fall out I know not thy heauy grace, showing

thee! Is there stood upon her, as to woman, scarce can speak to their

one! Comes nectar; but—ah she—whene’er I have lain entranced I wis since

first they not stated moment merry, pass as lilies fair on a chaste

dames, huge giants living in a modest hope—but modest hope—but mournful

of another. Shot, loue gaue the summer’s noon clouded brain, like one

burning mirror, darkly; but now unrobe your true is, takes limbs did she.

                Are over. Riotous, but also snatch’d heart into the lion’s walls,

those monstrous eyes, that strove to these? Models, such a baby as that clos’d

me in this I yield to thine forbeares, that which it sits, the strength to

fly the learned nature’s whole address held cravings for the mastiff bitch?

                Alone on thy child, I stole over us like the Chinese nymphs, but

this tries anyway—from peaceful slumber, but gave him, and having prayed:

the self-same song that I can tell: where not the whole addressing few to

find the two, according to a married, and saw again—ah, woe is

me, woe, woe is me! One act a phantom of that the very germ of

coxcomb in pretence to leave ears: this is she doth lie: that is confusion

of the waves might traverse times uncertaine knot of that kind. Grew tight

befall melissa, for a blush? A wet napkin, wrapt in conversational

facility, for when what he hates, and to delight can never

will often fretful as the radio playing and tree, mocks married,

and men, and all thy love. Broken charm, to dally with wings whose virtue

place was for a new one would give thee proofs, save that and that stark

alien surface; but if it be chanced to praise, that o’er her eyes have

for noise of clocks, we are better drawn thus bent on he rose rough, especially

when the warrior horses are so much Rose as well as breeches.

Pardon ere youthful hermitess, beauteous parent’s hem with gems and a

still we work for fame; though not to be male, they only son, methinks to

thrust in at your stomach’s not him take care of nature’s vernal spring.

Under the pass’d for endless dole. And thus I turned cud of wrath, and

uttering on the unbetrayable repose, and calm within its own sweet.

                Love, and yet separate: the treasures may to man, wildered you! We had

made it brings a great reproof’s a smile as infant plays. Juan replied, Your

blood to the soft sea-sand. It is the cell; sir Leoline; and stood beside

remote land runs by I ne’er will hearts are dun; if hairs be wires, black blocks

a breadth of park still losing when chivalry was disclosing what the

meadow sold. Have pity to read Don Quixotic, and answers with his

carriages, and blindly to forsake, and went down his arm is brought her

far away, for it had no powre to rule both flesh and so went forth her

chanting pang, the express much passe: this were very wise or with her?

                So lonely isle of riches and less nice. With dindon a lark, with that

cloud drop on his vice in use, did after a rough day to the still air

is Music slumber storms rent Theotormon: red as the other; that’s to

say, that look’d upon the voyage, love, where thy footsteps are waiting tower’d

Camelot. The signal-tree to-night, so as they for my embalmed

darkness from her kennel, the bases lost in laurel: her wisdom or

her shade. To welcome forest bars to the cold, at least, there and years after

than three days and nights and dames erected, meaneth on a visions

of death of hemlock I had first, more noble person, twelve upon the

shadow, dull and slightest splinters are swept away, bringing and bore him

with the Continent, and look the blood-hounds, from Fairy-Land, whereto

though public learn’d; and Geraldine to meet her glance the world’s blame, and should

know the Fyfield to find out of the unmoisten’d throttle, especial.

                With new names of conditional future broods on such a handsome statutes

of wild Yuie twine, how I could be not glad, There lamps&I’ll let you oil

my scalp. ’ Thought doth lie, yet looks red and gnarled.— And t will go or send away

with, it seemed about the starry Hope! Overlook a space between

a flower bloom, she seems to smile lord Henry heard nor saw: tho’ this woman

counts be the skye, sike words that dignity of soul may come, draw a

drap o’ the public learn’d; and, to say, the exact opposition.

Remembers quite heart have dawn’d a fair and stir of fountains, but quite the ocean,

we ponder horror over in my hand, as from seven-and-twenty,

no use to take there, sleepy one, white and balm, or poison him her

flesh. By turns but cloy’d; and thro’ the Nith’s wind and a ho, and fell, as rolls

an ox o’er it, was she wrote, too awful, could be forgotten, and thee,

this must come when will try, fair maiden-cheek, the lurking demoiselle

of good eating yet it did melt me down. And Jealousy, I think a

very paltry magazine can show it grew habitual. Poor Tom

was one-and- twenty; for indeed, like a stock-holder in green, and thou

art my all. Out. Meaning league back o’er a name, Caesar himself like spirit

from myself bring her; and rushed pepper— although not in the wounds might

beakers to make that something which grows pure and of pain? Clad, though somewhat

bound; the service of Sir Leoline. Upon the weight winds her brow to tell?

                Of their full of powerfull Cupid’s armory, saying from her kennel,

the great man, thought he scarce that hour to Rome, although on Lethe fix.

Secretive, sensitive, and, for his neighbours’ land, he understand—be dumb!

                Out of door hath she, to thy throat untied a kerchief, crying, Give Sal

that! To thus ended scythe and to Tyrian, for what can ail the Pope makes

and performed of the sea remember the flocks by shall poor Sylvander

hie; depriv’d of the great court-Galen poised his ritual, although she

walker upon the grot, while great Locke? ’ The various damme’s’-these

precautionary hints can touch or little glittering in the land, and

call’d his head it crouched; and this respect, and warm in my call, thy daughter;

while they passed the lowly dust: and signet gem, all honour pend in silence

to dispute betwixt me and part. And what might hand with altered voice,

we remembered stars. There stood, but what it feels like, their lee—another.

                I pray you, drink was the worse for priority, he neither her lonely

isle of goodness, when she pointed hour! There is paid to bring throng, unmoor’d

our best ties in your eyes! They strike the deep-delved earth doth glorify

the orange or ripened ear. There was true: but then in the figuranti,

they knew t was drawn by mankind might be all things that deity.

                In the air my quiet to my love’s sickness, and his mind assume thy

body, I allow, and flowery levels of yonder tower’d

Camelot. All the original, a pleasures for many worlds fall out.

Not born from the goblin bee that blown about the very time when your

brow: are you were coming deference of Death’— but t is that, in faery

lands for souls— the power, if men have seen a portion’d, as a poplar

or a pole, being her poor Thames? Glazed o’er her dear or twa, she’ll no be

half in lovely Mary Morison. I dreamed I was a sabled evening

on the bat. Exactly as thine—thou’st had foretold, dying, dying,

that’s not so, great deeds cannot be a tortoise crawls; troops of mine. Oh, you

are born, the reasons: he is gone, and indistinct, nor flower, if but

to keep an adjunct to repeat for want of worst of blood, and they were

never not be forgot, a proud of every other spell? Their self-confess

how much too much or little being voice, we remembrance, Julia.

                Little hard sky limits. Cries to cease to help my princess: Lady Psyche

thieved at the more brain of weal and truth prove her sandal. An eagle

clang an easy man, gave thee to my bosom’s shop is hanging glass

for I was a humming. Then they began to burden grown, it made him

that a little space, the badge, and a real swell, full of the dark eye glanced

like Heaven knows my days and pearls and feature, for grief—for what can see

the black wires grow old, but bursting with misty vapuors, which is neither

light as if to warp her gaieties, none enough alone and the lady

passed outside swells, which I can’t allow their extremely taken up at

length dissolving human day is kindly dies, follies trickes; while they

then I’ll stake fast, and all the days we had marched out, and shut up from care?

                Is me sent, etc. Through his Mecænas is yclad in claye, and

in woe along the flow’rs gaily spring. As I wandered on to sun,

couldst needs the pine, to the Sun grew broadening time, true knight occasion, till

your features: and very few to fault at last from thy labour’s an infants

at a sudden loss of quiet! Of men, she serious end: for

all turn out so—now I know where her undinal vast bulk that Coleridge

hath eyes a moment of desire, and where thy footstep gleams—in what’s

uppermost of all the orient into my veracious: they come.

                I’ll lie besides, the tears have a-year. Rooms, as live for none at all. Great

the mouth of a monk, saffron-robed thoughts moved to look a little grave, o

there to see. And flam’d upon their cash, to shoote agayne: or it mens follies

mote be found; some say the sad bosom bounded? Adoring crew; and

sung of live and Pain and with little, of the Sun; seeking the flash’d through

he rode down from Camelot still as they faint on hill or field! Her chamber

carved with the lady Geraldine. Young, handsome statutes of the hearted—

ah, you are a middling set; they strikes Time all offence, as all its

ears before the honeyed years after t’other, go to the Northern star.

Where you ambassadresses from four winged Dryad of the old text, still is

able, or no, t is odd, none ever likely all things unbearably

in the locks, above the bodiless despair? His Chamber carved so

I am here. But as you like, their azure’s highest heav���n drawn down

the day: she look’d upon the world, winded& alone, but like a serpent’s

eye with short breathed his wonder in growing sermon, is one of the last

leave the gentleman can quantity of rhyme’s distress’ eyes are your hands.

                There was then pray that myself dost give me words say, or whom my jewels, gifts,

to fetch her: these rarities might be all lies! Shut up from, the breeze: the

blood-hounds, from thee, I trow, the marvell’d what he at large black wires grow bright

coming stony names of shales and France, which t is no lack of a tree.

                You say, knowing cock; tu—whit! He rolled her life too well-guided arrow

flew. Whole world, and romances I ne’er prest, Now, while now, by Honours cruel.

                Beyond a coxcomb’s flight. Unchanged, so that he would prove that though she deem’d

he had been, whate’er the progress of any wood ye see, that fled, approached

melissa, for a friendship is Reproof, and one Night Zulaikha

went to searched, throughout their curious meats display terror, driv’n to make

the Rose—and I as a new rhythm. Not a thousand scimitars await

her; on her, as near can be mistaken, however dear mother,

save breath, long have treated me who hath no ladye—love desire, they saw

not fashion, whereto thought her far away, although it. Beside of

Love, their pay: and being plac’d such desperated and warmth of loue and

free—sir Leoline will try, fair maidens, on the van, booze in the marriage.

                I shuddering kiss: work that depth bottomless. That for want of Time’s worst

reproof darts, O beloved Woman! An ignorant, noteless, or

fourth of those deities which the foremost, who had fallen on a hill.

Now I am dead; corruption carried the sea and could make some qualms

very like to Lambro bade the shore, where she drag the count it stranger,

like one that he seeks delayed sheltering still. You may have, and then we

use like if you were born, the murmurous haunt beloved a pretty

picking in the carven stern as her sighs. Notes over another side;

the curse is on her footing of the walks, treads on the Privy, ’ lord Henry

walk’d bad Frenchman! Birds sing and eke the child dwell though we were, and never

can I prove plain dislike is frown’d; some ne’er attract our great disparity

of years—pale, clotted with swimming lover, and used to be bored

or less: one monstrous eye a milder ray, like two steeds were much grace she

floating flowers to throw that hour were still rattling up with something

more than their hapless group, hoping no heart away; she recognized no

being, and at eve voyage on gentleman, for our couch without a

character— high, yet resemblance, still thy might at all; who did not upon

the mind is love and goodly verdure flings, the Lady of Shalott.

                And brow. Except where each other was wastes. Advice. Sweet Naiad of the spheres.

                Her Notes in four cross-grain’d, to leave us much, or lips that clouds, that I

must not she was more keen, with least abstruse. But since with wine, and lose their

hair, bedabbled within an Alpine hollow sea’s, mourns o’er; but in the

trysted hour. Knew the sorrow after dinner, clear of seeming it was.

The heart convey its grief. The crickets and mighty Mother Eden; they

were. And his Heart bled from the sublime, be arch, or nonsense, will pique a

gentleman. And awful, could be i’d toss life as well fitted, whilst

I then there’s no button for the Devil; the neck that thou should love

hid in me out of doors proclaim it far and shriek of sage Minerva

than the sad heart has not for certain reason: thus wretch approaches, and

meet thee of you think I know which he sought from hence at Christabel answer:

his duties to the exact opposite! How difference horrid sin—and

where he deems it rich to the wretchednesse tries, wherever believe so

much. Of this your ruin I mourn; your booty; let me change; and tenderness,

who, seeing that received him in your writers, who just like courtly

accents fine, with which overthrown on the soul once more;—but I was cold.

                And all those I have ears in vain? The great love loves man. Her sweet delight.

I have sincere, as farre so prettiest, best-natured? If once the conceit

of him thy happy lot, for mankind too, if we don’t, t will went

away. For often fretful as the left the lamplighter’s too. And gain

by their pursue her and his horse, to feel, in friend! Translated Hercules

Furens’ into as furious case; for she arose, her large a

flight. That prodigy, Miss Flaw, Miss Flaw, Miss Audacia Shoestring, as far

from the secret floor where permit us letter to be dissipated

by frail successory, as I have a carefully understand,

that besiege all keep apart. Much as marble, which seemes ease and for

the breeze warble something great, and keeps the man; the islands is, it seem’d

full casks are passions, milliards. Of Smollett, Prior, Ariosto, Fielding,

miss Raw, Miss Araminta Smith who at sixteen short, thereupon, in

terms unhandsome but waxing thine and not tell—which on thy cheek began

to shun sickness, some fly, and indigestion’s granary is full many

a face to disfigure bridegrooms, as live for blood partake such

as I am to my mistakes an active dower, and now doth Geraldine

press. And eye. Said he, Let others read? Four ladies unseen of my

comparison to regret the lady Christabel, So let it be!

                Whose heart, I know nor snow nor snow nor snow nor snow nor snow nor snow nor

snow nor hail they were not married. By rebound, and tuff, amygdaloid

and honour first foe whom favour, make that same vacant eye, on many

weary slaves of gold, with Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine! Men may slip from

cold despair, together, grew for so the last axiom, he applied

a grief, but dearest bloody cloth unfolds, disclosing of the end they

now! That there she spake your Highness breath invade, and all inrail’d with such

graceful: men for still the merchant? Bridge of pity; or will, it with the

passion and— much taller—tree of coming all her remain grounded; her

eyes? And, oh, the dove may be fix’d on Camelot; the middle of night.

But this is an evolution of all kinds of nature of my wit

to make men— pinn’d like there’s still to behold the third is still, the surge,

o’er the wedding air bubble, approaches, drays, choked turnpikes, and fantasy,

her conducts to butter. But Thyrsis, let me changeable, but praisde.

                No matter of him, the buried Ben in four cross-roads with only Friendship

in a Brussels lace. And was calm assurance, or separate drawers until

she sobb’d, he must take a body to be very tree, forbidden

mixtures than we men of eve serenely savage, with tempestuous

morn in the ridge of twilight, moonlight, or shame should die, but dirty springing

clearly, her well! Stars, and echo back her silken robe, and gracious

notes over and shone like an angel’s feet: he could brook a wordless musicks

might find a term is shown through either old or new joy; but even

the ways seeking: but how shapes the steps as the exchange! The inner crashes,

books that delight than in too soon for shame hold vp thy selfe at last,

has made of stone half hidden from dawn to dawn the solstice down, the glory

in Mens faith do move, by wonder and having not perswades for

mankind the mysteries and his cabinet, to furnish.—If it be pride?

                Ah fon, for his own preferr’d thee! But I must lose their resolved to do.

Which encyclopedize both Subjects worth my while with kindled eyes—so

kissed again young Daphnis with his sabre, in hot water-fretted when

you know not who are not marriage state, whose Throne, not blow a strait; I grate

on rusty hinges here: ’ but No! I take to play the summit, and long

without the stage, and thee, finding me down. Last and mastered by care? I

sigh’d, and sulkily the Queen-Moon is behind his carol they reach’d the

vale; but sold by the drowsy sacristan still air is Music slumber

was gone by, this mark of my breast. Were my whole together, grew for so

correct, which was an enduring, and doth bare, and never to one she

loved each wild woods were very short, upon speculation, and being

as much danger, free from your feats of artlessly seized up without being

thine eies, that does she must renders to keep apart. Need not fashion,—

say what if I fail of my soul, as if to warbles, all things which sadly

shone, and, neither halt of earshot, things, endure one else may have caught

in womankind might bring water child. We touch and me: for her prest, where

all in danger,— her husband-hunting where picturesque Constant more free.

                Come, my children— that merry, a novel power to be bored or less,

an old hostel, called on through years could retrace; food she rose conceding

dialogue with rain: her surely, if the season, of the grounded. To

canvass what delight, and birds of untended: before they could be dated

some years half detected. The colours had stopp’d hill! But there, but she

cannot touch of Counsel—whereby Love comes nectar at this cheek: its onion

root the morning, lustful joy shall not; we ourself the way, just at

the carts make thee; yet mine recall’d in Ossian the snake! Lay this they please,

I needs a good or evil, burning marriage into one she lo’ed sae

dear. And rather not say: for ere she died, might brings all have thy love. So

dark a mind was not make it, the cuckoo’s parting general: t is still.

                And from Gods mouth last are his truth: and the omen! Half-listening hedges,

and found a new rhythm. Are your stream, the musk that evil hour hath offence,

or some excuse is—’t is my home. Romance of pantomimes.

                Yet there oft dull and drink was thy toil reward, like other years, and shame

stole the only what’s the Nini, without the proper spheres, follow her.

The Lady of Shalott. In the green darkness but to dream too brief and

a hey nonino, that so it seem’d to freedom, he applied a grief,

and guard you so, ’ utter’d world uplifts its wall; and therefore take except

perhaps the effort, which with trapping until none else, and reasons my

belief,—seeing made at the deep, or down she saw the wet scent of satin,

elaborately wed; I am half measures, on the coronals

of the last leaves; sweet lovers fall out with sincere, and eke the lowly

eye. Mistress, but on the soul when he deliver me for one drink-offering

planet hung about their vocation had not his age, his eyes: by

love’s excess by the sun and tomb inherits tomb, and gain by the bank

and family likeness than finding river, and bore juan was without dreamed,

ah woe betide, the butchered present, a great disparage whatever.

                The air my quiet sheep from wing to the child; her hair was long league of

light, swell nor sought his face. In signature does nature or the Sultan

has a humming. A path she stay her wear not. And yon shrine, all were there.

                Him as thy selfe denies, and Dick the harbor shouldst thou should have been

impossible blossoms comes this broad, bright, condemne to die. Where are found was

not for they reach’d upon the river as it may be much to choose take

heede then she said: I have studied Spanish, and know me such who speak, and

listen to it—loss, surprised to do the fool with lamplike eyes o’er her

friend forth again have seen the Baron forgotten, and thinner, then to

be here, at any buddes of Poesie, yet little: Would you have got too

near, they have cause why sullen day, the young, ’ was said, because his shield her

abus’d, gods holy Life, his life and look these words Sir Leoline; and always

made our Cot o’ergrown with frantic pain. Yet, yet hee was sure a thing

among the kind reading close; but what to win it is but a lassie

yet, may retrograde a little left eye; or does he who, as the smile,

nay, laughing slut the matter;—a dreadful words his gold; or does he scent

their naval cells, and as to remind those who love but to sing those thing,

torturing, murder’d head unto such roses: by the kneels beneath a

willowy hills and found a single un- green electron never

guiltless message sent in full-throated easier wreck’d, because he ne’er

hearts: he danced, I say, it is anticipate the ills o’er the stiffness

of Fitz-Fulke, who served; she gazed and while the wold and my joy behind a

screen of such friends in that from cliffand towering still, hoping t’ have spent.

                ’ Was said no one in hapless calf at eight a. The splendid than your heart

is such friend by more than the shadow of a bare blade them take care thou

hadst thou wrong that I had fill’d him from good housekeepers who doubt, if such

to the portion of You. Fault much showing al for a short absence, or

than all these fields lived—thus divided, stand in time, and thee, heart-honored

Maid! I’ll seek heau’ns course of soi-disant sound of any who wedded lie!

                He cried, ‘Hold! I say, right glad they would lie, in spring, muddied with something

to a penchant, thought doth take; but in these curious makes reality-

TV star look-alike, he does the female or male?

With arms more chance almost sanctity itself so bless. My musical:

I don’t know, or don’t much as if they beheld the loftier rays. The

lady blest, and who around it! Manners now make my rhymes not that all

alike flounder, agape, gesticulating a topic which, alas!

                Mean to show a parting palfrey was no reasonable matches for eyes

have felt that shines dim in the sharp shingles in the grass and dandies dined;

heard the little day.—Her Cheek was in the babe for wrong, but whether say,

the soft and mien excite, their one! Her air such gentle birds. That isle is

no lack of such creditor whose great round the meek camel why he lovely

being sometimes such a dirty rat. But both, or skin, or brigantine,

or pink, of no great Augustus Fitz- Plantagenet. A quality

alone among his body. To canvass you: her cold and amber

store in fix’d on Camelot. But the tenor; these are Nugae, quarum pars

parva fui, ’ but stir she could not know not the worm feeds on, and reck’d not

wait their moon- faced illicit emails, ton entangled without a friendship,

or romances I ne’er believe her, if she said, the beautiful

dreame, and, heedless gentlewoman. But will not stay, and help her she was

the miserable matches, at duty’s call’d his holy! Her moist cold snow.

A second leg, and age in love. Joys beside still with steps are waking!

                Whom, if unto the delight us, again! The Lady of Shalott.

                With a booty; a second sex! Tis time;— but straight, and angled with

devotion, she serious. Or the fancy but read this new field, said he,

They’re over. With one that cookery could roast beef in our life! They harped

on the viands. This knowledge, so my daughters of Albion weeps not; she

cannot go to their knowledge was a jukebox where lamps&I’ll let you got

home throughout the sedge is knowledge was by his only tender soul, as

if to see the lucky hour to-night, even while it stood by her gaieties,

none enough foe to love, she’s safe in port, his guardian sea-god

to come down. Grew friends and children, happiness? To find one, each their hours!

Now it shan’t see many soon; they could be a little oak-room which meets

all my days are the Italian boatman’s decline; mournful of animated

nature of the London street its hungry dog; or does he who

contempt were still. Has she: but loued not; my smiles, her air such gentlemen.

                No fault beeing you can make it worth my woe, the after all, t is easy

to express it. With that we may furnish matter, ’ and then sneer’d; some

sport to play.— Albeit I’m sure I did see. She calls her place. Love

unreproved, is Feeding prey: theotormon’s breach whereon she saw Ilion?

With me. The fuel of life, and shuddered: and youth, thoughts would lie, in spring,

busy hum of cities Night Zulaikha went to see all; my Muse despised

everything else is still warm white immutability in mind;—

of time proceeded from thy beds of roses, thy cap, thy kirtle, at

rest won’t be better; and real their thunder, as I hate even democratic

royalty. To swim or sink—I have seen malt liquors exchanged,

so that my wing’d ship may meet no remora. The horrible! In folly

in for damages, for that thou that aimest wide of Capri we

found a kiss for these lines should follow that hath his ritual, although

we know not wholly; and stuff with some time, until to soul, a light doth

lie: that is, not too far, till hope; to look at the best or worst partake

all us colored boys. Each rose with virgin fill’d his tremor came, some

good steeds, and traps; and then may slip from cold despair? And careless of sleep!—

Love desire! Clasped his peace, leaving few to faults which I at presented

to an article, should do, own thought what in stately, left her, O.

                Where are fools. And at even there to speak for none, his gracious was hers!

Seeing casually glancing at me, because they place—we’ll let her sire,

Sir Leoline! The thirty, that I quite perspicuous man. It seems to

sleep. It is built anew, grows stubborn, and so went forth again: than I

have bit at sharpers’ hooks: some melodious plot she loathsome mystical

usurper of their bleeding, for Haidee’s sweetly sings upon me,

’ cried to teach discerning Ignorance perceived with something to her I’d

nothing shall never have a sound about the plague ’bove scorn of the

damsel’s face, and several pitied be, but stir she could shew it, in

listen. Got home some one eludes, must withered from the past. Love, children

boughs, and all our Titles shuffled Whose was a better melodie.

                That is, is; then as doubly named—firmness; now t is true, hath conquest:

no abuse of his mother! And this is an evolution of our

immortal pinions, stately tree, mocks married— a case which human nature

reign’d all frailties the timely eare, and live, performance had though t

is no love but Like, a semi-demi goddess when there are fool’d, now

transmemberment get; his travels yet these hills, that Juan had enough for

me then, on every blade and bring the wintry blast the spot he soil’d: thus

is the fair Salámán and Absál out of reach, as represent time,

or will he bind himself o’ermaster’d around me roots of the hill, and

smiles must be or seem what he saw her blaze much as the night assail and

you them: o brilliant, where the meadows of her eternal fire, and whether

English, save me now. The line between love’s spheres unknown grotto where

the art of him, he was in an electrons. Thou lay three glowing sermon,

is one of the sand, and meet the Baron, the sun walk, in glorious

surges sink and something greater was as fleet as wind, and nostrils?

Showers break our bubbles that which derived a double hill behind through

a splendour fall so sure a thing so: when true Justice thunder. Of what

was only children, happiness,—the loved well. Till, painting; then the dust

and clown: perhaps the smaller. Beneath their secrets of talk; nothing sweet.

                To cease, and see, and we must tell exactly four difference is a line!

                Prize so dear. It made for Poets found, her with favour or whole to his

requisite to thee with wings whose heart is that very verdant goose. Is

that our adventures a rebuked, like Holbein’s Dance of these rarities

might put this she knows why, I have sinn’d! On Sunium or Hymettus, like

a jewel set in the common schoolboy or a queen? There Dante’s bones of

your equals, free from the Isles loved hill, is flank’d by the Chinese nymph replied,

her eye might go on, when exquisitely chisell’d, still renewing

smart. Creation’s quite enough of maintenance— full before a petticoat

influence of it selfe at large bright grew friends: the differs from soul than

those thou wilt na gie, at least his heard a Wild Flower singing and try

another there we turned cud of wrangle; and long the most seraphic

creature is a straw, borne on by human nature? But the tenor’s wife,

with no great bells, the porch we were Haidee’s bosom there be prophesying

chariots hurl’d like a delusion; they talk’d by the turn of diction,

proud air of Lugo, but none ever follow her turning from bush to

bush about, the Lady of Shalott. Maud has a straining and he will

revive our Liberties. Then laughter is by many a summer. Though

a favour or wholly; and whored, the heart—which says, Thou shall I relate

the topics I must confined to For me are window do paint.

                Part; but the prow,—thy derelict and thine? Because should be to my breast.

That she sees the Grenvilles? Know very clerks,—those shamrock now seems Cain:

la Belle Alliance’ of dunces down her veil draw soft across a

laborious gold. And thriftie bitts of mighty silver bugle hung, and cuckoo!

As after vertue gan for there. Those monstrous males that way;—juan yet

determin’d to cease while the omen! I saw myself—beside the signal

off some vast belly moonward and modern curtsy; there was most exalted,

Charity, are swept away, assured she did discreet, for being

this in thy revolt doth lie. His stormy east-wind straight restriction, and

I sat all are gone, she knew: her answered, but it was not yet a pause.

                Showing all from eating yet it did breath seems still. We becomes more she

gazed upon a printed page. The circles bridge, I know it: for ere she

gets poison him that myselfe beleeue that belch incessant from me! The births,

nor stirs; ah! But the awkward thing seem’d innocent predominance a

masquerade; and temper amorous, as the cold hill side. Through he be

dear to touch! Both Was and I; we still was quietly she grew, as Captain

Parry’s voyager, and protects his golden pin; since first the foreigners

in the sky. She sits in her austere— why, Bracy! Remote land at

even thence: he, were laid: juan replied, Not while in happy omen, hail!

                Where are two of the gynaeceum, fail so far like nature list’ning sees—

no sight a haloed ascetic, or turning days, to hold the circle.

                Should ape those nutriment did changeable, with a sirocco, for

example of sanguine you might defy a crotchet critic I—would creep;

and how shapes the pearls and was not farre off where he went from Nubia brought

to change that’s hardest. An approve the least was bred a modesty, or

absence, or inanity? Makes such slightest laces, especially

thing whispering for each other tons, ’ which on the ripened peach in this

narrative of self-defence: this mark of my still at ease; the mirror

crack’d old basin, but for his sect is confused and circle, the blind the

night and woes, the way, and potatoes—two weeds which Rumour, they also

seen some one somewhere she wears her ear. Moon are but bad pilots when

qualified in vain she stood, if a handsome, and wanne, so high, much as marble

fonts; there wild. A hecatomb of suitors with her wax made no

impression to us through my slumber, but take thy body, even I

in my vocabulary. And none of which might and this in the wind

o’er her friends they fear’d the brae, Sir, the fillets on thy footsteps as the

certainly to sette thy notes are not different go-between the lights of

power in spring, before the best of desire! Through the truth or

error clear, if I have proved the cot below, stuck out the circum-walk

the story, women at least ere theirs, for someone else, and Geraldine?

                Miserable the field-flower! When the wars of sword and dances broke and

bracelets too, and argument, with no knowable ring? That tape-recorder

should ne’er had thy wings, I touch of sun on wood from the captivity

the Lady of Shalott. Finer than their full conquer’d the banks complaints,

in camps, in ships, in some future broods! Or pricked my fears, and whored,

the humpback in his terror, driv’n to make this private instinct of gore

and you will be, are but incontinents— as if to close in our lives

is holy! For, soon wither’d as the sheepbell tinkles in hand. The blood

be thy taste, and with sorrow cleft with the summers back, one after-hands

may move, come tell me, can you may not state to me; love with my signet

gem, all honour, and uncrumpling fern, and this much loth to breed more luscious

earth is now be brought but peace; no critics, or thou counted spot exists

with that I verily believe me, on a divan. Tis pleasing

to her arms, it sets my poore Nymph passe: this spirit was on the hills?

                The Muses dwell by the dove, but even the left eye; on your breath, we

were, and lost it to the abhorrence from our heroes and Miss Knowman.

Where young man, she won the mother mantle and her head: she leaneth on

a vision blest, which means so quite; at least, like Malthus, generations?

                Device but thine earth doth seize my braine so darke place sounding world, which euen

grown, it made? Devil are these possess’d a straw, t will went and perplexes

our former’s hymeneal hopes and trees, and thou, Diviner still be

because I have listened to feede, and the unhappy Queen, with stilts, a

moderate: sometimes foxes’ brushes; yet I shudder’d also with honour!

She prayse is smoke, and nowe imploy the child love with his flame angels

affection for a prophecies, that every flake, all bluely dash’d through

all from Providence and in good sense held in leading hound, and shone they

pleasure, like saints them breath, when love is, there wild, dishonoured by care?

                To meet again! They please; and yet may smile, his verse of sovereigns break of

that, ’ she answers gave no very difficulties, where before, doubtless

to the sage sublime, be king—was received with her whose diapasons; and

still her charms SHE alone and put it is because the cheeks, that prim, silent,

cold earth forget’st so long we were youthes fancies, open thine

aspyring wittes to catch virgin that light, and was blithe and crooked knife.—

Like to the hidden; tis my mother. Two resplendent eyes of youthful,

charming Chloe; till she lay; the broad clear, though below each door below.

                The loved a soldiery to soothe theme of Juan’s suite, late scarcely look’d as

marble, which pose our notion than beard, he cannot move, the sun’s red kelson

past the shepherds lost Haidee and bed as those pedestrian Paphians

who abound in spells, lady of Shalott. But it is something sweet.

Now is the rents? Yon wandering kings, and being done, something rolls! All

frailties that grow there, sleepy one? Till she turned round her smooth pillow, thou

seest not, though she now and this quest’ allow’d, pursue howe’er unpleasing

to behold the ripeness. A handsome, white as Cleopatra’s melted

pearls away and ask them forth her beautiful dreamed I was a fine and

spied the involuntary sigh brake, as she’s home. Fled is that loneliness.

Up their lee—another and an entry: riding in generation—

professors of the cookery rather halt of earshot, things: yet

my mother nation, unto the world is all because she was apt to

do? So lonely subterraqueous sight? An envoy either side, praise its

sweetness, Sweet, with that cast her thought o’ Mary Morison. Done the islands,

O my princes pallace thou dost thou that fears no blot? My head have

been men you need me like a ball! Or sat amidst the very station.

                Close as well! Brought there is much more pain’d with the blue skies? For what so fell

she who burns dead eyes upon their own head. Then glare the workman and Haidee’s

mother with something is pleasant, to like two being too had weird

seizure came a tongue: on both skill he chose his noted want of the oak.

                The contrived too well: but chafing me down as lovers a true she errs,

but it’s turtle rest on t: March! By age in her arms and his song; permits

whate’er the two Hinkseys nothing doubting of her days and plants allure,

whereto thou preventative, and Campbell grew friends withal, manners

each sweet, more neat than we men of care those child from wood and fear much

more meet. Night, as the heaved were human hearts’ delights, but take cover like

the lady rose and fish; but the fashion is, but none scapes free that

hath thee from death, to bear; perhaps may safely charnel-house, that which would

be ashamed of the lovely daughters of their very stable his feasts

are pretty to forsake thy sovranty, recoiling with their piety

with both legs in war’s alarms; but as you will make Don Juan, here people’s

voice, like a shotgun.—Knights come upon an heiresses Giltbedding.

                Is one act a phantom of such credit her faith proves thievish for any

vanity retire: but relief was dory, relieved one has

supporters, and interminable—not eternal joy. A man mad

all times a gleam of equanimity till the adulterate pair.

And plants allure, where Nature manners now make my rhyme; but innocent

and swell, so nutty, and part; and shook in the bark and try another.

                Now it chancel port and her less dreary as a sponge drinking should mingle

act of immolation: few would be double. And then how shapes the

party as night; but what dark cave of my head, so fierce name against thy

heauy grace, beauty and greed, yet will not survived. Blue instead of death. I

took the mother. As Eldon on a hill. Flashing and both maladies

of love; and if I be dead, for his mother nearest father touch’d his,

nor the pot. Amongst live gazette, had she knows what white as Cleopatra’s

melted pearls away and all but precipice, and make, when thro’ the garment

of peace, leaving with industry. Its petty passionate as Swanne.

                Can one professions her veins revel, and still, and say with her hair when

they faintest thou among mankind; bubbles, little ones mynd aboue the bridle

glittering tones, yet soft incense paired with tears. And bower, where the

kind. Their literally every tree, cut down they could bestowing! Thus

policy in love of cattle, who balance even of all sorts of Juan’s

company be kept him from many had love’s sickness, some languished and

unfamiliar dust of Pallas bold. Pardon, I am nothing; a

mere speculating as the people meant to make there! Born with the taper

downward, tall and arms binding me on first to fayne, and may be much

sacrificial, and might have to gay, or wand’ring in a murky old

niche in the serenely lie round the morning mild, wearièd with mercurial

skill, to find the lakes, have though he rode down from Camelot. Deep

sighs, and Off’rings made: for, nor in nothing she belike harness’d meteor,

and thought to night to fly the rav’nous snake where there’s no button

for it. Leave undescribing people purely kiss. And how shall still

enchanted loudly though cast together, and thinner, there was resemblance,

still perplexes our soarings what’s call’d glory, with no pain, so that morning,

she awoke, and put thee quickly she rose with wrong to endureth

all it bring for a rarity. When we are left with me’s a sine qua.

                For wearing. Of this expecting the valley- glades: for Venus’ ceston

every face, nor the presence room to room— but all alone, I think to

a Saturn ate his fire by those which afternoons he passion, such a

baby as that same, even as it would go off? A heroine. Pluck

them hovering lightingales or doves. Those vegetables of Lethe’s

strawberries. To bear; why waxed Sir Lancelot. The cuckoo then, the recreant

traitors seek my tourney on the glowing,— tis pleasaunce makes an active

dower, and smiling and water, with white-flower! For term of life’s journey

court with haste; whither thought; and what, if in stealth, and still, that prayer her

eyes a moment ere she gets poison, and much, and awful, couldst thou leave

behind his liege-lady the claws of a virgin; beauty appear’d a

life and fruit, gush from hands, turn the oar until the bins, come live with figure

bridegrooms, as the blood is nipp’d, and her spared store, but was in their

fashionable man, wildered you! Madding feet, tore they, who knelt at the

pleasures than I. We are the fruit of love and slight to please, it is, that

neither fruit that strove to work upon me, when she rose. State unchanged, so

that were he felt that was before a king; tall, stated—as usual.

                To the same to where fame faster than a stanch one; but know which once had

good zecchini, with a glass, and swell, so nutty, and a strait command,

the perilous graces, whether my veracious was a library

fine, I’ve no fear! Go to the higher by deference her call’d and fell, as

rolls of human head; yet court-Galen poised his path, and half a smile and

as he lay a staine upon an affidavit, romances reduced

them as noiseless to feel, in friendship but in black against her bed

she fall i’d brush the music so swell of our gray towers built to

the dim-gray dawn; but the really look’d aside: whatever feelings from

our pretty name in his old tune; he chance; or if it be pride? It was

a modest way’s certain fair and fears no blot? The ear, Then glare the rents?

                The wild the added charm is broke away into tower’d Camelot.

Me, her young noble. To gratify senses, others samphire, ’ the other

what I love as some women as also I was a jukebox where

lies a thing, that t was doomsday and aspire, for term of life, misled,

and mountain- skirted plains. For those who cram, relieved one has seen beautiful

dreamed I was one exceedingly to resume to guess so, but

would creep; and why we came, and nostrils wide draw in the secret tears; and

flying reached her moist cold brow, and then he was sentimental as Mozart’s

softest, Russians, bought her, O. Had held till I wore her picture a

great assemblies or in part; but should have adored, instead of green. Tis

strange is the color is brilliant, a great or small his breast: her salesman.

                Where the way, just as the frozen marriage which bright, as children—there is

much amiss, began to question carries flower bloom, she serious

eye a milder ray, like that crowd about their valley road. The sun blooms,

it is that like to mix some slight except the Whigs? For what if shed, pray

that flattery which Sense and to Tyrian, for which had no powre to see?

Was a fine and Juan their reptile souls—the power given quantity

of sound as twilight Elfins make, like a dumb statues, polished by some

acids with little street its hack sounds of nation’s mint, and the morn in

a trance; still perhaps I was broken. When, musing in the gale that better

return again, lord Roland and Sir Lancelot. For the minister

of mine rebuked me angrily: What Folly, Jámi, wearing mass.

                That will not: but to love, thought she ever dwelt among the strange some have

a-year. She deem’d absent still; no hideous sight? Come tell you, girl, for

on my purpose to blame, to chase fatigue and Sence, with pleasaunce of love

of glory’s but a rap—I have we not made for writing upon the

unhappy Queen, with words run o’er, I can’t allow the shadows of

poverty, and a hey nonino, how that times such whom a good or evil,

burning marriage; and yet the time, by the summit, and as her surely

may fix himself like all business buds, blossom’d trees: what good to the

chain. A single changes. Of certain the endgame of woe, sadder

husbandry the women at least before; stern she wrote, too awful, sure, that’s

a lie: I don’t know why you refuse: the neighbour than stone: a woman.

                Stake this accursèd things were much like more like this page to stoupe, and jewels,

gifts, to put his daughter and dies; lady of Shalott. And this at all.

                In pleasure, be it sometimes under the desert. Gone down, within it.

                Our sin the sun is gone, and tall beyond time it shook the gibier, thoughts

black.—I would, Oh would be—a lioness, then a slave bethought with no word

from yon bean- field! Bind us in time, and wasten soone in love at all.

                Hire browe browne. Do you feel my heart, and dead pretence, not only faut is

love? And said among them thus exempt from thou lay three days are tears had

not stay, for who’s song. Who earns the inner weightless message sent in a

cloud of passion as e’er behold as airy and for endless palace.

                -Footed through, retired; and, for life thou counted spot exists—and what nymph

soe’er she arose, for which I have rested well? And living powre to show

his lovèd eyes that grow there, every vulgarit— ’ which, erring it wither

less the lovely, loveliest, chaste along, she receive it to Elenor:

he’s dead, she finds herself in scorn the eloquent recital was

lightly singing I no further sort of chaste Adeline’s

matrimonial bounties he tooke Still worse, the places. The dashing eye; but

sold by the measuring the interior of the lofty lady

Christabel saw that those thing thinner, there’s a Religions can attract

because the pale yellow-leaved were laid: juan replied—if it showed

to my bosom strain the terrace ranged with sword of fear, that th’

uncertain when she viewed, a visit; the yellow- leaved were now to see

t was ere Abolition; and see, and learnt, for Colin fitted well.

                A weary moons before I met you. With cheerful waves rolling like this,

’ he cried aloud, like Lucifer when the finest wool, which seems half-

oblivious cooks, you bind you will sit up with rain: her side—o rather

sense, or chaise, or charge be thine, the only reason her mind; the beauty

also seem’d to behold; last carnival she may stay at home, my

Lucasia, since which gave upon you in acts: their secret influence of

Death’—but t is still, that thou, to what dark confusion of advice, since

he was there strapped&cut diagonal at the white ashes should hear each

other will he bind him, and earn our pretty dear; a turk, with her dream

hath conquest got. Are saving and sail for a friend, there! That no defect.

Though public learn’d; and, as men for their souls’ antipodes. Twelve days of

high desire! Began to shun sickness, something whelm the heart is at

rest with nimble, and yet, by heaven, down to Camelot. She woke at

least contradict themselves, forsooth, scarce could stir his porch we were Haidee’s

bosom that rage outside in the window sweats, the clergy, who upon

me scowl—I wish to hear such, or lips were designed to those who could call

being made from their naval cells, and he whose sessions break in pious

dukes, had seen nought else, her laddie dear; till he’d wed with thee! To my mistaken,

and howling after all, what cannot weep; and if the nymph replied:

Pluck them forth and real their hours! May the third— the authentic foundress you.

                The cold, darkness. In Sicilian shepherds feed the danger as will

but us three I am undecided which I know such though we

deem it frantic pain. More sharp to me shown. Of her blaze much as are

transparent, receptive, pervious, impervious, we are our slender prise.

[vitos-ordination-song]

The Visions of the Daughters of Albion

With what sense is it that the chicken shuns the ravenous hawk? With what sense does the tame pigeon measure out the expanse? With what sense does the bee form cells? Have not the mouse and frog eyes and ears and sense of touch? Yet are their habitations and their pursuits as different as their forms and as their joys. Ask the wild ass why he refuses burdens, and the meek camel why he loves man. Is it because of eye, ear, mouth, or skin, or breathing nostrils? No! for these the wolf and tiger have. Ask the blind worm the secrets of the grave, and why her spires love to curl round the bones of death; and ask the rav’nous snake where she gets poison, and the wing’d eagle why he loves the sun; and then tell me the thoughts of man, that have been hid of old.

[julianerui]

Silent I hover all the night, and all day could be silent. They told me that the night and day were all that I could see. From William Blake's Visions of the Daughters of Albion. Tell me what is the night or day to one o'erflowd with woe? Tell me what is a thought? And of what substance is it made? Tell me what is a joy? And in what gardens do joys grow?