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libidomechanica · 5 months

Text

And is this

A curtal sonnet sequence

The expense of better thumping his load. One’s hip he slash’d, and once as victorye? Thoughts, new and old; brotherhood is this thing, as its guardians, go floating with gore. And is this? Behind yon hills of which sometimes thinkin o’t, we’re made a cunning Painter takes then great minds out. White farmhouse under her little prized among women, calling. He holds her husbanded the cold, thou shalt remains. Youth ended, and sing all awry; what!

Soft as mine, the old man’s eyes woo as mine. I sawe Phoebus thrust it have given then let go. As I by yours, forsook, to hunt the corner. About love. And Betty well come out of that picture, till we see That last foe is echoed he; no soft-toned reply. The woman who had felt the taking place of grapes. In the fruit was an attack’d by water’s edge, and Pain foul dream! Grant only this crippled by there were beneath these hallways.

III

Juan, who’s to Love, in short, and Time that is all trees of that sometimes in the act. To know. She lovely Mary Morison. ’ A haw bayberry kame; the shiny boots it to myself to winne his face with me from fools that kindled incense; myrrh and from those rare lips on youth’s sweet lady-flower of Lebanon, excellent as the woman of parts, and epic, if plain heart, as a seal upon the spectacle of our men, at least.

To tough old her husband. The world was like slaue-borne Muscouite, I dreamt of flying fatal to bishops as are merely to the granite? And I keep that newe mischances not Rosalend who knows! Go up from thee; for Annie’s corps: perceive you look at the spray thee Hobbinoll, record some we loved I view in the vulgar, cold, nor knows how, the Face of sleep ere I rise up tomorrow what he said: glory to God and bloody rest.

Just likeness: he could never was subdued, amid the Spring come, Shame, burn to the Rose blood and ties, as well as her lot was dared. Says Betty is not in my walks a momentary trance comes in hope, an undistinguishable thrones more than with pipe an’ drum we’ll night. And dropt the final sign the covering of us making up that never light and blood. I often told heroes are so much waits in the guilty with me!

There is not one another someone lost in the middle, worn out, looked up … zooks, sir, she shall match with one liquid kiss, though still within a mighty woes. The scenes—though mochell worse essays prove to wield the victorious morn? And often blight; slow heauinesse within my mew, a-painting shewed far off from me, for delights, going toward, then feed his face. But oh, alas! Oh could tinge of running for Refuge, made her to the lattice.

VII

This valiant men are singing a lang, lang line of the lilies. The door open eyes, I hate you do not shrink from Sunne, thought quite: but evermore her eye was busy spade, which things were gnawed away, he had a good, in some untrodden weed; crippling age was all my name thou foster-child is born. Had been hard by the rein to give her true- heroic—true-sublime as the light foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see the restless cries, fools!

VIII

And when Thyself alone. That ev’n my buried once, Men want debarres myne eyes, the artist that range as crayfish all trees that can I do? As mine are, must be count the mountains of Bether. Struck a wound is already; nature. Read yours, with divining eyes. Pony too. The multitude that trite old trick! But then did feel needs must be? How say I? That leaves to wall. That happy time to cast and have grieves me nourish’d, had perish’d long!

Has might; where Destiny with the same root of some say that I can the guilty without discrimination yet, the rarities, a cap of flower shall be free. The absent night long, how long, long, how long, and when in the Sky, where Destiny with bred here shall stand, the longë love that passes swiftly by, and all his kin and knots of wisdom! Can’t there came that a life was low, hey body were stepp’d aside by side this new feeling.

By the foot-way path called out of the General Markow, Brigadier, insisting. Before, While thou fairest wights, and wellawaye: ill may yields, woods or steepy mountain of straw chequered thee, panting, and I know she’s boudoir at their new tricks of the savages of thy Venice-glass, nor blank; it means this—and we lean—ah, lean upon it light; slow heauinesse in both make mere life, in self- same welcome shock: his airy harp shall arbitrate?

—Addressed flowers. And with life—he was wet. Which Pan the Victor is, and try to make up in sheaves borne on the wind of pleasure, hope, my joy, a dying words the parish charities of my hands are rough, and in mine ear. And Betty’s droop’d, her eyes doubt if men with wills, a fire with final sign the covering on the Desert’s dusty brown least have look’d against my will be glad and heard, when this passing sheep, not the horse, that mad pursuit.

XII

With the dark of all this road beside her true-heroic gigantic proportion to see and me. No, no, the solar system, approach their single her mind in women; at the wine has died, gone to the figures also, we could add, he was up and down rolls the window’s edge, and to commonwealth and Fate. Which he sheds, he asks not the eye hath wounds euen now most fervently, the thyme—had straggled out, and in a Kirtle of grief.

XIII

She quite ‘a broth of us strip for him. Therefore worthy eye. Re-mould it nearer to the better the good heart never for pain, feeding horse? When all girded up into Heavens. Or holla for the riches of love, then nightly sings he, into the event and others grown: of forty were sick unto dying but they clove them back a dim look on his shade alone in blood and undid me. Struck at her time or come again.

XIV

For admonition is gone and alone, and by the low worlds have grieve, that street—why, soul and God knows how, and his own at time is slight where you can’t fathom the town so long, and the small bird? I am my beloved thee low. It is enough, and, what your worlds on world exactly follow but tragedy is simplified in the earth, and out, above, much more than these rhymes to carry a ten-foot scarf, let me stealing unseen!

The Lady of the sabre cleaves, and bade himself, appear from warriors tough—they found a number one is dying Moslems fight again too, too late for a man would quit the idle length, beneath hail, grass or hammer’d steel. I believing the toll gate call’d to sleep; and there ran thrill’d my guileless Genevieve! Feel her warmth i feel good feel good because there, as the raindrops I love you in your hand, sir, you may deem, too gentle muses!

XVI

Fair Annie of the year, I walked and virgin valour waste, here Mixture is Addition grow. It makes up bands to roam the mountain- built with repining at the tip of evolutions, which he would scarce could follow’d in the door open or shut as the rest were beneath. Do just pretence and the rotten persona I’ve made the Vision meant, it answered; this Courtesy, she that gives. Or bene thy yellow Cheek would wake up dead.

XVII

There it back to cancel half a spurr’d blood. As tyrants. Here War forgot how to form the night are should see! Too comic for the rest. White robes, and in my veil from me now. To thee my heart. For sometimes think forward toe, her body has been cast out. The woman of Kentucky, was happy melodies are like a spread our ears the time mine eyes be hel-driu’n from heat did you skill such destructive icicles, as if by magic cured.

XVIII

At starting up to those after part of rooﬁng and, soon as thunder’d up and doth post. Must still the children round by the next day; but my poor heart. A cry for a Song. Saw nothing thee? Stamps o’er the fire-balls of death may she posts up his loom in summer and a parching ruins he disappointment than before the thought, had not heart for killing trick of time the like? How longingly I look upon a saddle, or bitterly.

XIX

Blackened as at break of snow in a damp cold night, when I get stopped for thee. Two roads to a wall, the wheat was yellow hair, na langer dow I stand but go! The tale had thrill of truth and waive thee that I read love it will call Judgments down wearing lightsome heavy body wears shiny boots like a traveler, long ere the early to the Potter’s wheeled, and who had found no Key: there coming home, cried Betty’s most forlorn when the garden.

Be the galleries. You have cradled as the way he met, but of the poor stone to me? Then, churls, the louder come to my vow, or fall a Xerox of some thing like an ass, he went away, my hope! Before, and I should be? Frightening the same smile or does not keep that none for me! Walter wheresoe’er I went—and search’d—and there was not, consult the though we were fewer house are but the Frenchmen never will bloom nor want of Israel.

XXI

Came before all deserve to pitied be. As lately frozen seas? And seek your fame and gone ere Robert, he who dwells alone dismantling the warm Love is my meanings both of us straight ice I know you here Mixture of a God. A Road whose Auspicious Augury should at length he condescend into the dust, think they came. That without a thorn, thy bud’s the serious book. For joy his legs, oh! But Betty’s bent on her tomb.

XXII

In one weeps, the sword, the voices lower, pulling your brow: no, no, you have no moment: thought o’t gars me greeting; oh me! I know my times uncertain, the rules of Arcady? Where I made of fir. When thou leave the city’s taken—only part were they, and scrambling round supportresses; all by which wounded and save;—a mixture of window looks went about with sighs, and a couch, near the goal yet, do not get far was the cause.

XXIII

And one enormous shouting, endlessly— but I am afraid. But if these poor soul is parents kiss ain’t neva have to say if she wore, he thus my suit repel? In celebration for the fires under they have tended thing God in Heaven. For Refuge, made them chasteness, Paine doth sport, gentle muses! That any heart’s guest to force to changes tell; but now from his old teachest how to common eyes in your cheek, and clear.

XXIV

In darkness came feature. However had a meaning tell, motion’d her pair of the rosy banquet-room, four ladies, save some rest; thou, to whom the slewed mirror’d walls because it might hold that peep and down rolls the truth: for me, I thoughts of praises are as the natural a poor monk, you sit and Strength returning statue of Siren tears did fall, that street with manner of this sad distemper, there was an awful fold embrace me.

XXV

But still betters! To the dust, think upon her texture; she is neither side some twenty lives. Be dead see, walking. A god in love, tempest, travel’s storm piles up. Let maps to other, fluid, affections, which can be complete the wren warbles while I talk on against a lover when we will build a bonny ship, and as her love thee hence. Juan, who’s to Love as fire to wood? He spake with me or a young hart upon the sun staineth.

XXVI

At first Morning I was taught my poor heart. With my heart I know she’s at their very near to human prior to substance of civilised, the town was enter’d men, a yet wad waken me. Their column yet remained more than seen, they seemed very soul disdaineth; suns of the same moment: thought, in your strife, nor longer could her love in like bleating to my lay, my bright bard from the How; Giving at the last of me: there comely.

XXVII

Feel my father Adam first nights are merely suppliant and having been used them bemone that seemed to cut and clay endure. She shalbe a grace, to you in your fairy flowery Spring again and that we may plant my fires of those lips of the first thy People, to saue the wager wonne or loss there his centric happiness. But Johnson: Neither sights control to love affairs until something were, sits upright legitimate heart.

XXVIII

Our love, you love, neither please long, and whither sexe doth view want nothing I was homeless, helpless, and turning forehead being helpless breast. To carry in the morning come, my Little of grief unutterably chaste: but when it puts the naturally the heavenly race, no more I’ll vaunt, for all the last some ghost since we wear fetters talking, and fought with his knees; and hell, then one of Salámán in his true sorrow and death.

XXIX

My last sleep in anything else entirely going to do with shiny things, Roman, Greek, or Runic, swear to a young Chevalier. I look’d behind, appeared through a white; when looks about you are not heed their Jaws bloodletting go the passage cast and small, in thine eyes of another youth, that her story, what he begot such a pertinacious Speech many a short-hand of spiced wine of Pride and greed, yet with lurid beam.

XXX

So we could not cure his sent off with curses struck at his house together of the juice of my woe. Made myself, who didst devise the North with Robert, he whose heads of our house-clock struck eight; flush’d where name of sorrow have you I love thee my heart. Or with her pride, jealous in a sad question’d what nothing but little captive gain’d him still, and so as thou call my name for the Sunnebeame so sore doth make, that he live with smiling.

XXXI

The night as what Erin calls, in her ancient Ruby yield himself to give way. Rolls on. He met with life—and coughing drowns the people by and by the Waste, one on the elevator where meditative minutes hasten to the door!—The Nighting serves its lonely tree, mocks married? The tear has more of honest fame, than flesh with garlands drest? Till you been married, the tumultuous Shout of Soldiery, suddenly bite awake.

XXXII

Tell me some thing already turning comes over that we’ll night. Or hieroglyphics on Egypt, one is wiping the sounds of slavery—had hardly sung the lassie o’ my head, before all women desire had overwhelmed the Soul of thy nose looks familiarly do I perceiving nought seem’d to gather line;—but all, the way lips in tight skirt the memory perish’d her round in the grim Avenger stand but give thee.

XXXIII

Dark is moving in the Hall, I am the town, or clench’d it quite: but that I do, slouches and Dafadillies, and ponder whose name of the old grave eyes a boat sliding knee-deep in a mighty Wisdom his tomb let us strip your faces stare, a Muezzín from her alike prolific of melancholy merriment. Sick, sick to thy bliss, a few sad tears, badges of every fair flower looking, looking round its meaning.

XXXIV

With Ismail, as yet. When some one travelling home, cried Betty’s still within the dark webs, her infant came to Light A Child of Ceres’ horn, and, in some one good, and the even shorn, which form all manner nor could not the city’s taken—whether lilies. The old Man said cried Betty Foy with girt and makes the Soul of evil, he’s idle apprehensions, which midway on their daily voice, no longer story, then took the eye hath wounds!

XXXV

No more I trace the wreaths at a work divine, seeing his head—I guess that kind of child is thy beloved spake, and Wooll, invents new waies to knowing if to love men and marking sweet commingled! I dash for the sea to see what care I how few their leafless steps, without asking, whither hurried aloud: Help, help the world and saw Paradise; and streams with his hand that white and cherish’d here, she’s happy love! There is unto me.

XXXVI

And ah for a man would rush upon the mower’s scythe canopy the child’s a pretty milk-and-water ways, and seal’d false to talk; one that immortal as I work, the herd approach, perhaps he’s climbed into Curls nestling in loops like lilies, droppings, candle- ends,—to the beachcomber in me sings no more and be possible that in the week he doth now his gift confound. Earth’s tyrannie; and one good enough! And cinnamon, with Wine!

XXXVII

But still, my Johnny’s near,” quoth Betty Foy? Of some severall Shape. And she was a Fiend, sometimes their toil; nor yet to be gone. Sad shall be as cluster’d tree, paused for any times, like turns right to find my woman- love to expecting sticks, the reflex act of ten years? His own under-tone gruff with shining faithfully. Or how to bind his stiff heels soft feels! Nay, Betty, poor Susan Gale. The words spak never marked by reason at all?

XXXVIII

—And if she wept a rainbow once in his ragged January, as if they were still obey, nancy, Nancy; yet I’ll stick a pencil in. Snuff about it, of those that not sick of woe? Which once he made, why so will I offended at a wedding. The first lovers; and I will part them on my bed-feet. Come when the watchmen that both lookes to work as he grew, she dress’d me with the pitch or rosin, flame which is the Susan?

XXXIX

That side now, and round as if a long station, strip for his guilty gates, that it went their meaning tell, motion’d him like anarchism thought: so you may regard—a loud Hawaiian-print shirt yellowing as I do it has done by one, a strawberry shows half-drown’d, he cried ’Tis ask and has been for lack of groceries, I dash for they escape? Vast and silent overgrowings, with manner, and land as soon as this thing which may look so.

Let us go forth, sufficiently impressed; she like, but those that if I didn’t even know, a hell of seaweed, crush of mud and lie fallen stones, would have been bough in this private institution on a hue fierce an angel pure and ioye, forcing with odds, are touch the huntsman tumble pat. Of fayre flowing, the good at, but never been altar, O mysteries thrash’d the moon, clear and plain the Fruit grew hot, and no soft- toned reply.

XLI

As yet the labor of crimson holly father dimension I love you and in his bone from their silent form, dost tease us out of that if at all it’s a kind of child is this that not, because he hated cruelty! Confounded on sinful loving all others, o’er which the rest of it for well she loves, her idiot boy. But could not combat like a spread of the cold, nor knows the most of which feed among women?

XLII

On fig skins, melon parings, laughs aloud, whether looke, at my request: and eke you forgive: arise, my Goddesse plaine, and far beyond the east, and pointing for yourself against my kisses to our heaven to upbraid: still seasons were killer, spare not thoughts of reading? Or are ye Mary Morison. Its matted weeds. The cincture your body still their days, rest in his sighs aplenty and oh, ’tis true I have no rain to fall.

XLIII

Power that for a Moment, loud as any man in all that he was to lay about with apples: for I am changed, how your zeal, whatever think how you as a woman? You think men love what matters his angry with the Prior, turn him that sate upon too high and trembling some Strip of Herbage strown the Memory has power he took his first night. We call Thy plan: thanks that all is changes the clefts of shot and thy breast.

XLIV

More like a dance in the raging seas of selfishness amain: seas that I bear away. The faces started out along the dark, which is for buttondown, O the black- eyed virgins with life—and could have kept sound she just stop there, what need it.—The Nightingale that Pat’s language and every scene. Now, is this head and heels on along the Stone that night long, in princely plight. Through his native error. And groans, which fail to live and Behold!

XLV

Would cry when she sat in front—those great eyes and into gold to match the Seraskier is known, though led by this the deer from strife, thou’lt see the best, of hand, sir, you make a taste, where use had made himself, who kept their potential. Where the morning-star’s about thy windows, as heart a-keeping?—Without resistance fling: the Bird of the acres of Hell and mute, in wet or fair or brown, does she was mine, no grove, no one went back to me!

XLVI

As those who dared to know my longings then was her weeds, and in their first grew better, I could under his spicy night are shouts from Yugoslavia somewhere a rustic inn, our evening meal? Of the gude stout aik, the bars the Tyrant’s Shambles, viewers bereft, nancy, Nancy; then in their woe, that her side some once. Who is this, that simply murder. Of nature have a bit of human life, in brief, by a most vehement flame.

XLVII

Said Juan: ‘Whatsoever is a woman ? To let the way to please. A human heart: and ’twas not to the Rose that’s out of the cedars round the pomegranate. Obliterated Tongue it murmurous vestibule his young; and their shadows lay in bed, on all sides were ruffled by a Foolish boy, that great need we are all women at least part: thou pleasant to make so excellent as they burr, burr, and bright Freckled.

XLVIII

’ Fair Annie’s corpse for the Wolf’s Accomplication and the aim! Much more, now, through this sad sight, ’ said Margaret to myself and catch the fretted splendour plucks the slavish hat from yours, forsooth, and moon grow. Myself, ’ said she, sweet angelick face, a rabbits by moonlight road, there appear from fifty yards were gone to a Shrine, and how his madding fever! Which wanteth not these secured at the urge to hear her beauty’s brow, I see them not.

XLIX

And whence this true I have laid him amaze. Who is she, be-times are born at Bethlam. All sounds it pierce them up, gotten all allowances beside the oxheart to snatch when despair from strife, nor long octaves, pass’d, and took his five brave Tartar khan—or sultan, ’ as they rose along their designed warm shadow pay? Fairest among the ungenerous. Father has lately forgive: arise, my Goddesse plainly so, he shouted Allah!

As father sliding hip to haunch. As her husbands’ sides warriors, as well when looks naught else, a grateful loveth: I sought him who does not endurance, but there is no reason which, one upon a star, and twincling streams with Susan’s eye? But the first to yield. Time passed this found, and, on this, that all I ever was subdued, consented to despair from strife, should set that was out of that in my bonie face, like thatch for shame at such meanings.

To him befel, for some sweet Garden-side. Why do you feel the huntsman tumbles, the lighted ha’, to the solve and the doctor’s self, and put them not. In its sunny skies. Moonlight like a swimming in the Throne of the Cavalier, ’ just as Koutousow, he whose spirit clings miswent? Ten, who look’d down from those rich dardanium. And could not being thee not more than tempt further. By saying I’m sorry and the salt sea; the muses!

LII

I love glory;—glory’s dream unriddled, and a doubled your mother’s desire to wounded Hearts that makes the sentiment of dead at my beloved, that great broad- brimm’d, and thy Flock the corner-stones, would he lose name day. His jest alike prolific of melancholy merriment, to quite calmly midst thou lik’st so well its country is the narrow sea which scarcely was the streets off—he’s a corner of the Shepheard of Gold!

LIII

This love, it was with her Sorcery. For she, sweet from the last link with careless as if her sexe doth smother, worlds, in her revolves, that he for at need of which farther the sea there we not we shall happily be hid, as those calamitous years to burn out with some assistance that which the same and beside some prettiest face, like Snow upon me, she sat, she fixt a showery glance from fiction of truth slip. Down again.

LIV

Knowing if to love of love doth scorne: he plonged in paynefull loue I pyne, hey ho gray is greete, and merry-make; and far into a married by the serpent in an hour. When the midnight be chirurgeons who catch cold in shadows instead of kirtle embroider the garden! Said Margaret tells the moon that dwellers on form and far beyond the raging sea, that before we had no dark veins to see what thee so that order.

Something to me. And wilt thou shalt remain, in midst the Pledge, which men stickle. She would gaze as curving skies above the stroke of one thing, of Johnny and his sheep which glory’s dream and what I do the Air, as not much pique myself with chains of Paramoures. And—A blind Understand time’s leisure and with the Cock crew, those very tendon which is Solomon’s. We fool ourselves must be carried Johnny’s wit and show to make her tomb.

LVI

I think what Heav’n to glow, far, far away. —A merry shine. When I know, has tantalized me many seasons when that for the first, happy dove? To save, and my wheel; my fingers ache, my lips renunciative through the dresses you stole from you so long, in my predestined Plot of Dust and gray, come, O love, your rudenesse doe not your hearts her dwelling of the bride: two palms and listened to awake to human passion, joy and pea!

LVII

For whom grimy nakedness dragged January light from outrage worse still more than the chiefest Nymph of al, of Oliue braunches beares a Coronall: oliues bene so trimly dight, I pray you do. When I enter, and on the street with a fright. It lawful magic, his imagined a rustic tower and could it not farther hath to do—by that was o’ the best wine for dowry will once more soft and driving the sweetness.

LVIII

I was born in Bethlam. Being grenadiers. The faces, sweet, to which is why I sing, except cold wipers along; an active counted one by one, and I will endure. Worse, and life like the dress the mind that will curse my fading Life provide and now there is nothing too much gold for every step increases! Instead of some months had been; the time and silent-blessing whom I had little Lilia, rising sun. And Johnny!

LIX

Our fingers of fine gold: his corpse lay at his breast! Wrong with great rings serve. Root pity in the distant vale; there’s none of herself, high-thought the hottest fire announced most freshly bleed, my Friend, the never growing banqueting house, since greatly ouergone, so weren his story of those odd turns her ears, and methought I wanted me in their pinions too; my freedom or reason, barren of the field or by thy delight a red rose?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #158 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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