#if so it is very very very veiled. veiled even as a protest song

[edge-oftheworld]

no but sugar coated pain is such a good line why did it take me six years to actually hear it

[magiccath]

A very Noble Christmas

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which Donna is really fed up with her love-sick best friends and calls in Wilf for backup

A/N: if you're looking for a Christmas song to go with this I suggest "Christmas Tree Farm" by Taylor Swift and a steaming cup of cocoa. Happy holidays! xx

“It’s so frustrating, Grandad,” Donna groaned, sandwiching her mobile phone between her shoulder and cheek so she could use both hands to fold laundry. 

“They’re not even subtle about it! They’re so thick they can’t even tell the other one has feelings for them.” she folded a shirt in one swift movement, placing it with the others in her laundry basket. She truly loved her best friends, but this was getting ridiculous. Having to deal with your level of obliviousness every day was starting to frustrate her.

“Have you done anything about it, darling?” Wilfred asked. Donna could hear a slight breeze over the phone. He was probably sitting outside, looking up at the stars. 

“That’s the thing,” she groaned, “I've done all kinds of things to push them together.” She finished folding her things and closed the dryer with her hip. She repositioned her phone to hold it with one hand and the basket in the other. 

“None of it has worked. Not even in the slightest,” she continued as she made her way through the winding halls of the TARDIS back to her room.

“Have you tried a romantic candlelight dinner?” he suggested. 

“That was one of the first things I tried. I made a reservation at a fancy Italian place so they could eat pasta and look into each other’s eyes lovingly.” 

“And?” 

“Aliens blew it up on the way over.” Donna rolled her eyes, even if Wilf couldn’t see it.

“It’s like I’m living in a horrible slow-burn rom-com,” she grumbled in exasperation. “I’ve done everything, Grandad. I don’t know how to get their thick heads to see it.” 

“Perhaps it’s time for my expertise…” Wilf whispered, deep in thought. 

“Huh?” Donna asked, frowning. 

“Christmas is next week. Bring them over for dinner, I can handle the rest.” Donna could hear the mischievous smile in his voice. Before she could respond or protest he had hung up. She pulled her phone away from her face slowly, staring at the blank screen before letting out a small laugh. 

She shook her head, there was no point in telling Grandad “no”. Plus, she really wanted to see you two together and her efforts hadn’t done much.  

Christmas might be a week away for Wilf, but Donna could just ask the Doctor to take you there now. There were some benefits of living in a time machine. Decidedly, she made her way out to the TARDIS control room. 

The Doctor was hunched over the console, fiddling with some buttons and switches. You were a little farther down the console, leaning against it. Your hands gestured wildly as you talked excitedly to him. The Doctor snuck small glances at you every now and then, a subtle smile taking over his face. It still baffled Donna that you failed to notice this, he was hardly incognito about it. The poor guy practically had heart eyes bursting out of his head.

“Can we go back to my place?” Donna asked, moving further into the room. “Grandad has invited us for Christmas dinner.” 

“You hate Christmas,” you pointed out with a frown. The Doctor nodded in agreement, both of you confused. Normally, you had to coerce Donna into Christmas dinner. 

“I like Grandad,” Donna shrugged casually. She hadn’t really thought about her distaste for Christmas when Wilf made the plans. She had figured that her biggest hurdle would be convincing the two of you to celebrate Christmas a week early, even if you both loved Wilf dearly. But, then again, the Doctor had no concept of when Christmas actually was. Hopefully, you wouldn’t see past her thinly veiled lie. 

You exchanged a suspicious look with the Doctor, determining whether you should trust her. Donna was known to get you all into trouble, even if she meant well. Silently deciding there was no harm in a Christmas dinner, the Doctor agreed. He’d been meaning to check up on the old man anyway.

“Alright,” he drawled, moving to flick some switches on the console. You watched him move about, your eyes following him as he rushed around the room. 

Donna really hoped that Wilf’s plan worked, she wasn’t sure she could handle another minute of this. It was like perpetually third-wheeling but so much worse.

The Doctor landed the ship with his usual flourish, turning to look at you with a wide smile, “The Noble residence, Christmas day,” he said dramatically.

He held his hand out for you and you took it without pause. Donna sighed before following behind you as the Doctor led the way out into the snow. 

The streets were dusted with a coating of stark white powder, a few boot tracks the only indicator that anyone was around. The snow was still falling, a gentle and soft flurry floating down to the ground. You smiled brightly and started to spin around in the falling snow, catching stray flakes on your outstretched tongue. 

Donna noticed the Doctor was watching you with an equally excited smile plastered on his face. He had a certain kind of smile that he only ever wore when looking at you. The best way Donna could describe it was lovesick, and it was starting to get pathetic. 

“Let’s go in before I freeze,” Donna urged, tilting her head in the direction of the door. 

The Doctor nodded, his brow suddenly furrowing. He moved closer to you, tugging the neck of your coat so it wrapped around you tighter. 

“Don’t want you to catch frostbite,” he whispered, adjusting your scarf as well. He stopped for a moment to look at you, your face flushed from the cold. A small smile tugged on your lips and he felt his hearts skip a few beats.

“We should go in,” the Doctor finally said, pulling back from you. His hand rested gently on the small of your back reassuringly, guiding you towards Donna’s house.

Wilf greeted you all at the door, a childish grin plastered on his face. A pair of reindeer antlers perched on this head, the small bells attached jingling quietly when he moved. He pulled each of you into an excited hug, squeezing tightly. 

“How have things been, Wilf?” the Doctor asked, instantly following him through the foyer. 

You hung back with Donna for a moment, putting your coats on the hangers and shaking out the small flecks of snow that had stuck to you. You slipped your boots off before padding down the hall after Wilf and the Doctor.

In the dining room, the table was set with nice plates and Sylvia was busy setting numerous steaming dishes on the table. You smiled and sat down in front of a bowl of potatoes, inhaling their scent with a small but satisfied smile. You loved Sylvia’s Christmas dinners and couldn’t wait to eat this one. The Doctor took a seat next to you, still deep in his conversation with Wilf.

Slowly, the rest of the food came out while the traditional Christmas crackers were opened. Wilf wasted no time perching the paper crown atop his antlers with a big, silly smile. On the other hand, Sylvia deemed them childish, and Donna didn’t want to mess up her hair. Still, you and the Doctor put your crowns on proudly. Once you had placed the brightly colored paper on your head you turned to the Doctor for approval.

“It’s a bit lopsided,” the Doctor commented, gently shifting the crown on top of your head. You felt a flush creep across your face at the contact, but the Doctor didn’t seem to notice. 

“Much better,” he grinned, leaning back to admire his work.

Donna cast a wide-eyed and frustrated glance over at Wilf with an exasperated sigh. Surely he could see how ridiculous this was. Wilf nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t do much else to ease her frustrations.

Dinner went by in a blur of smiles, laughter, and lingering touches between you and the Doctor. His hand would brush against yours slightly and hang there for a moment. You could even swear that the Doctor’s fingers brushed against the back of your hand in a comforting motion.

At one point, you even used your napkin to wipe a bit of sauce off of the Doctor. Donna practically got up and left the table at that. It was as if you were already a lovey-dovey couple!

Once more she looked over at her grandad, wide-eyed and aggravated. How could the two of you not realize?!

“Are you seeing this?” she whispered to him, gesturing aggressively over at the two of you. Somehow, you remained blissfully unaware of Donna’s angry whispers.

Donna could feel herself going more and more insane as the minutes crept by, and the two of you continued your usual longing glances. She looked over at Wilf numerous times for assistance or even reassurance, but he just nodded knowingly. As much as she loved her grandad, she was starting to lose faith in his matchmaking abilities. Perhaps it was a dauntless task after all. 

When dinner was through, you and the Doctor helped clean up the dishes on the table. You stacked the dirty plates and bowls, all the while happily whispering and laughing to each other.

You carried the stack to the kitchen with the intent to help with dishes before Sylvia yelled at you to get out. The last time the two of you had done the dishes there were soapy bubbles everywhere and only a fraction of the dishes actually got done. She learned her lesson long ago to not trust the pair of you with important tasks. 

As you sulked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, the Doctor paused slightly. 

“What’s up?” you asked, noticing that something had caught his eye.

His eyes drifted up to the ceiling, and you followed his gaze. There was a small bough of mistletoe tied with a brilliant red bow hanging above your heads. 

“Huh, I wonder why they put that up,” you questioned. Considering there were no couples in the house it felt a little silly. Still, you felt a thrill rush through you at the implications of the small herb.

“I believe the tradition is to kiss…?” The Doctor asked bashfully, a blush creeping across his cheeks. He could be quite bad at remembering Earth traditions, but he was fairly certain about this one. Honestly, he really just wanted an excuse to kiss you.

“I do think that is proper,” you flushed, averting your gaze. You would never admit it, but you wanted an excuse to kiss him too.

The holiday music drifted in from the other room, the soft and familiar tunes filling the silence between you. The twinkle lights in the hall cast a soft glow over the Doctor, making his handsome features more prominent. As far as mistletoe kisses go, it truly was the perfect setting.

The Doctor moved closer to you slowly, his lips hoving over yours while still giving you space to pull away. Gently, he pressed his mouth to yours lovingly. The kiss was short and sweet, over far before you wanted it to be. 

“That was-” you gasped, your fingers drifting up to your lips subconsciously. 

The Doctor looked at you worriedly, suddenly concerned he had done the wrong thing. Maybe he should have asked your permission before kissing you. Waves of anxiety crashed over him, his woes written all over his face.  

You took in his pained expression and furrowed brows and shook your head quickly, cradling his hand in yours softly. You smiled brightly, halting his worried thoughts. 

“Amazing,” you finished with a grin. The Doctor smiled back at you, a twinkle in his eye. It all felt like a Hallmark movie. The sort of scene that could only ever occur if it had been masterminded. It was almost better not knowing that it had been.

With a sly smile, you grabbed his tie to pull him in for another kiss, this one longer than the last. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him. You could have stayed there forever if it hadn’t been for Donna’s sudden appearance. 

“Bloody finally!” she cried out. 

You turned around in shock, the Doctor’s hands still resting firmly on your waist.

“Wha-?” you gasped, slightly embarrassed to be caught in the act. “What are you yelling about?” 

“I’ve been waiting forever for you two idiots to kiss!”

You and the Doctor turned a deep shade of scarlet and instantly avoided your friend’s gaze. The Doctor’s hands slipped away from you and you took a small step back from him. You stared at the floor, flustered. Next to you, the Doctor fiddled anxiously. 

Donna rolled her eyes in exasperation, of course, the two of you were still going to deny your feelings for each other. 

“I give up,” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air before stomping off in frustration.

You turned to the Doctor with a knowing smile before the two of you burst into bouts of hearty laughter. His hands naturally made their way back to your waist, pulling you into him. 

“How much longer do you think it will take her to find out we’re dating?” He whispered into your ear with a grin.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! I really love your work! Please rest if you need to!

Can you please do Donna x Reincarnated!Reader?

So apparently they were childhood friends (who crushes each other but never officially in relationship) but R died and Donna became the even more reclusive as she is. However, decades later a researcher from outside the village came to do some research and she has the same face as R, turns out it was R who got reincarnated. But R has no memories or whatsoever, but frequently got dejavus or dream about the Manor, dolls, and a faceless woman (who is ofc Donna). R feels very familiar with the house and take residence in the manor with Miranda's suggestion. And Donna tries to get closer to R, knowing it is R reincarnated and they were kinda yearning for each other a lot during the times they live tgt, but Donna being Donna, she's too shy and pessimistic with her "deformed" face (eventho Past!R said Donna's past scarred face when Donna was young is beautiful) and she eventually take off her veil and R still found her so beautiful and enamored all over again. Even more~

Also Angie can be the wingman for both of them~ until they both confessed to each other and got together then R remembers everything.

It can be angsty or hurt/comfort with lots of fluff :3

Yesss!!! Thank you for your words, and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

I know who you were

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reincarnated! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Donna being Donna, fluff, happy ending, as always ;)

Word count: 9,039

Summary: Why? Why is everything in that house so familiar to you?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Tanti auguri a te…

That innocent birthday song was overshadowed by a few claps, while someone, someone you weren't able to make out, blew out the candles on a cake. The number on them was 16, you'd have to remember that.

“Come on D… make a wish,” you said excitedly, happy for the joy of that person, that girl who had no face, who had no name.

“Oh… I…” the mysterious girl stammered, with a distorted voice, an impossible one to understand clearly. “Okay, I wish…”

“No, no, if you say it, it will never come true!” you shouted.

“She's right, Mistress…” another dark voice said, it seemed like a man's voice. “Try to say it mentally.”

“Could Angie also make a wish?” that broken, blurry, dark voice said. Angie, a name you should remember…

“Hey, stranger,” a male voice brought you out of that little nap. The car was no longer moving. You had reached your destination. “Wake up, we're here.”

“Ugh…” you protested, yawning, quickly taking out the notebook you always carried with you and writing down those details that seemed relevant:

16 years old

Angie

“Are you going to stay there all day?” the taxi driver insisted, in an unpleasant way, but with a tremor in his voice that revealed something different, an unknown fear.

You frowned, picking up your backpack and getting out of the vehicle after paying the man, who seemed to sigh in relief.

“I see that kindness is not your thing,” you murmured, still sleepy. The man laughed, shaking his head.

“Not when a foreigner asks me to take her here,” he defended himself, counting the money you gave him. “Let me give you some advice…”

You nodded curiously, putting your backpack on your shoulders, checking that your phone had no signal, so you snorted.

“Don't let the wolves eat you…” the taxi driver said laughing, starting the car and disappearing down that snowy road.

“How funny, look how I laugh,” you said in a mocking tone, with a face of displeasure. “Anyway…”

After taking a look around, you finally saw the village, your destination. As you went down those dangerous hills, you took out the paper you had in your pocket, one that only had one name written on it: Miranda.

Your trip to Europe was not a coincidence, or something you wanted to do while you had finished college. No, it was something different. As a student of plants, of ecosystems, your intention was to investigate that place, one that your own parents recommended to you.

They were scientists. They dedicated their entire lives to the amazing field of biology. As a good daughter, you followed in their footsteps, trying to complete your doctorate with something new, something original. Your parents were the ones who told you about that place, that village where they worked years ago, with another scientist, the so-called Miranda.

Without thinking much, you headed to Romania, alone, willing to make them proud.

“Excuse me, miss,” you said kindly to a villager you crossed on the way. The woman looked at you suspiciously and stopped. “Do you know where Miranda lives?”

The woman opened her eyes and shook her head, walking away from you with a scared face.

“Oh, okay,” you said, crossing your arms, taking a look at that sinister place. Your eyes narrowed while in your head your thoughts seemed to find that place in one of your memories, in one of your dreams.

You may have been a scientist, but not even the most experienced doctor could tell you the meaning of those recurring dreams, strange dreams about houses, dolls, faceless girls...

You had been dreaming about those things for so long that you started your own research. Everything was always blurry. You would forget it after a few hours, so you decided to write it down. You didn't know if you could ever solve the mystery, but at least it wasn't always present in your mind.

“(Y/N), right?” a voice behind you, along with that slightly sinister atmosphere, made you jump in place.

Behind you was a woman, a strange woman dressed in priestess clothing, blonde, elegant, with a smug smile.

“Oh, yes, it's me,” you said nervously, embarrassed by your reaction. The blonde looked at you, without removing that smile from her pale face. “Are you Miranda?”

“Yes, I am,” she answered dryly, turning around and indicating for you to follow her.

“Your parents were very considerate in advising you to work with me,” the strange woman commented, serving you what seemed a cup of tea.

You nodded, staring at the priestess. You weren't expecting a young woman, or at least not that young.

“Yes, and, I, I appreciate your hospitality,” you said pleasantly, tilting your head. Miranda looked at you curiously and laughed softly, sending a shiver through your body.

“Anything for my old friends…” she said in a soft voice, sitting down at a desk. You shifted a nervously, something that the woman noticed. “Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, no, no, it's just that… I, I didn't expect you to be that young,” you said sincerely. She laughed again in a sinister way, shaking her head.

“I suppose it's understandable… The last time I saw you, you were just a crying baby,” she joked. You were surprised by that statement, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Was it a dream?

“Did you know me?” you asked, surprised. As far as you knew, you had been born on the other side of the ocean. The priestess frowned, as if she knew she had said something she shouldn’t, something you didn’t know.

“Let’s leave formalities aside,” the blonde sighed, taking an old file from a shelf and placing it on the table. “The first thing is to find you a place to stay.”

“Yes, of course,” you said, nodding, looking at those old photographs of the village. One of them, an old house, guarded by a waterfall, caught your attention.

It wasn’t just the peculiarity of that place, its beauty. You had seen that house before, in your dreams. You were sure.

“Wait a moment,” you said, putting a hand on the page so she wouldn’t keep turning it. Miranda stopped, looking at you in silence while you took out your inseparable notebook.

A house with a waterfall, surrounded by forest.

A dark forest, a small clearing where there was a grave

A wooden bridge swinging over a cliff

All of those were notes from your dreams. You couldn't stop looking at that photograph. It was that house, that very house.

“Is something wrong?” Miranda asked, while you examined your notes. You looked up and shook your head, rubbing your forehead, which was already breaking out in nervous sweat.

“No... It's just that... That house,” you said, pointing at the photograph. Miranda frowned and approached it, looking at you confused.

“That house?” she asked curiously, her eyes staring into yours.

“Yeah, I've seen it before, I'm, I'm sure,” you murmured, confused, thinking that maybe you were still asleep in that taxi.

“How can that be possible, (Y/N)? It's the first time you've come here,” Miranda said, with a suspicious but interested tone.

“I know but… I, I've dreamed about that house, I'm completely sure,” you said, placing your finger on the photograph, sighing and shaking at that coincidence.

“Dreamed,” the priestess said, with apparent disinterest.

“Yes, I… Tell me, is there a wooden bridge to get there? An elevator?” you asked, without thinking very well about what you were saying. They always told you that those dreams weren't important. Your PhD could be in danger if Miranda considered you a disturbed person.

Her eyes closed slowly as she nodded, confirming your intuition.

“Tell me, (Y/N)…” she murmured, slowly getting up from the desk, not taking her gaze off yours. “Does the name Donna Beneviento sound familiar to you?”

You could barely hear it, but you tried to look for that name in your notebook, or one similar. No, it didn't ring a bell. You had never heard it before. It was a completely unknown name to you.

“No, it doesn't ring a bell,” you said, shaking your head and frowning, putting your notebook away again, trying not to get nervous.

“Mm,” the blonde murmured, sketching a brief fake smile, as if downplaying your words. “Well, I think I know where you're staying… Excuse me a moment, I have to make a call.”

You nodded, relaxing, still looking at that picture while the priestess picked up an old phone, dialing a number on it and waiting impatiently.

“Donna, dear…” the woman commented. You turned your head slightly to pay attention to that conversation. “Yes, yes… Listen to me… No, Donna, I said listen to me. I have a job for you… Oh, no, a simple one… A stranger has come at my request to do some research in the village… No, nothing like that… No, Donna, taci…” she murmured, looking at you, realizing that you were listening to her and rolling her eyes mockingly.

You looked away. Well, after all, you didn't need eyes to listen.

“The girl comes to investigate about plants, fauna, you know, those stuff…” she continued talking. “Simple, dear, she will stay with you. Yes, Donna, in your house… Oh, please, can you just speak up for yourself? That puppet of yours is giving me a headache.”

Puppet?

“Oh, much better…” Miranda sighed, relaxing her tone of voice. “No, Donna, I'm completely serious, the girl will stay with you and there is no discussion possible. Try to be nice, mm? Oh, and keep Angie out of it, at least for a while, I don't want the girl to run away, yet…”

Those words were like a switch for your nerves, making you tense. Angie, that name, Angie, you had heard it in dreams, you had written it down.

Miranda hung up the phone, bringing you out of your thoughts and approaching you again.

“Well, it seems you already have accommodation,” she said, joining her hands, with a slightly different attitude. “You will stay with Donna, one of the village Lords. Not all outsiders are so lucky, right?”

“Lord?” you asked curiously. Miranda laughed in a fake way, nodding.

“Relax, dear, I'm sure you'll get used to this place little by little. Oh, and one more thing… Donna isn't… Well, let's say she's not very well in the head so… Be careful with what you say, mm?”

“Not well in the head? Is she dangerous?” you asked, a bit scared.

“Oh, no, she’s not… Well, if you're careful, of course,” she joked disinterestedly. Your desire to leave the village increased by the moment. “She's a very peculiar woman, but I'm sure she'll be nice to you if you're nice to her.”

“Miranda… Who's Angie?” you asked again, acknowledging that, indeed, you were aware of that phone conversation.

“Mm, I suppose you'll find that out in time too,” she answered coldly, dryly, making a gesture to indicate you to get up from the chair. “Now go, I'm busy.”

“Okay, okay,” you whispered, getting up, frowning. “How do I get to that house?”

“I'm sure you'll know how to get there, (Y/N),” Miranda said, writing something on some papers, not paying attention to you.

Confused, you left that kind of laboratory, looking around for the way to that mansion, to the house that repeatedly appeared in your dreams.

“Oh, excuse me, sir,” you said, stopping a man who was pulling an old cart. “Would you be so kind as to tell me how to get to Donna Beneviento's house?”

The man opened his eyes wide, leaving the cart on the ground and shaking his head.

“Do you want to die, girl?” the villager growled, leaving you stuck in the snow. “Stupid outsiders...” he hissed before picking up the cart again, looking at you with a disgusted face.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, furious at that attitude, or rather, scared.

You walked through the village in confusion, not knowing where to go, not knowing which way to go. You decided to stop asking, since no villager seemed willing to help you.

“Oh…” you said, stopping at an old wooden door with a symbol engraved on it: a moon and a sun. Again, you reached for your notebook. You had seen it before, in your dreams, you had drawn it on one of the pages. “I, I guess it’s this way.”

Your nerves prevented you from remembering, from focusing your gaze on those trees that seemed familiar to you, on that wooden bridge that you heard creaking in the same way as in your dreams. You hadn’t been wrong, that was the way to the mansion.

As you crossed that bridge, a strange feeling invaded you, one that you hadn’t had for a long time. Two abandoned cabins were next to you, two cabins surrounded by stone angels that you approached automatically, putting a hand on them.

“You can’t get me, you can't get me...” a voice sang.

“What?” you asked confused, at the sight of a girl running through that place, a girl being chased by another one. The sensations, the voices and strange images were also part of your life, although never that intensely. “I think, I think I need a break...”

Walking a little further, you came to that clearing, one decorated with a grave that jutted out of a mound, the grave of a girl, Claudia Beneviento.

“Now she walks through the valley of death... How sinister,” you said, reading the inscription on that tombstone.

“I should have died instead of her...”

“Don't say that, you would have left me without you...”

Children's voices came back to torment you. They weren't visions, nor dreams. They were sensations, air currents that carried those voices to your mind, faceless, meaningless voices.

Finally, going up an archaic elevator, the mansion stood before you. It was the same waterfall, the same sound of running water, the same cool, damp breeze, the same smell of flowers. Everything was the same.

“Ahem,” you said, climbing the steps towards that house, meditating, making the decision to knock on the door instead of running away and never coming back. “Hello?”

The door suddenly opened before you knocked, making you step back. A woman appeared, dressed in black, with her face covered by a veil, Donna Beneviento, surely.

“Hello… I'm…” you said shyly, kindly extending your hand towards the woman, who seemed nervous, frozen, with her hands shaking.

“No… It can't be…” a hoarse voice whispered from behind that veil, taking several steps back. “You, you can't be here.”

The lady seemed very nervous, too much. Yes, you knew she wasn't mentally well, but that attitude didn't make any sense.

“Miranda told me I would stay with you for a while and…” you stammered. She shook her head profusely, breathing heavily. “Oh, hey, are you okay?”

“It's not true… This, this can't be true…” she muttered to herself, turning around and resting her hands on her head, moving on herself. “No, you're not here…”

“Well, yes, I am,” you said cautiously, getting a little closer to the lady, risking putting a hand on her shoulder, a hand she immediately pushed away with a furious growl. “You… You're Donna, aren't you?”

“What? You're asking me my name? How dare you show up at my house and…?” she stammered, pushing you away unpleasantly. “Non… Non è possibile…”

You stepped back a little, looking at the door, seriously considering turning back. But it wasn’t fear or that woman’s erratic attitude anymore, something else was pushing you to stay, a heavy feeling that fell on your shoulders.

“Oh, Italian… Okay…” you murmured, remembering Miranda’s advice: be nice. “Um.. Io… Sono… Sono…”

“Stop pretending!” she squealed, nervous, pointing at you with her finger “You know Italian perfectly.”

“What? No… Of course I don’t…” you said confused, frowning and putting your hands in a surrender position.

“Of course you do, I… I was the one who…” she hissed, sighing nervously, controlling her breathing. “You… You are…”

“(Y/N),” you said with more courage, extending your hand again towards her, who seemed to stop when she heard your name. “Mi, Miranda has spoken to you, I’m the girl who…”

“(Y/N)? Is that your name?” she asked with a calmer tone, but with her hands shaking as she approached again. “Are you sure?”

You laughed confused, running a hand over your forehead as you nodded.

“Well, quite sure,” you joked, biting your lip, watching how that madness dissipated little by little.

“How old are you?” the lady in black asked, curious, uneasy, but at the same time, more serene.

The question surprised you, but you shrugged. After all, you were her guest.

“25,” you answered in a kind tone.

The lady in mourning sighed, letting her shoulders fall, shaking her head.

“25…” she repeated, in a whisper. “I see… No, it can't be…”

“Um, I…” you said, interrupting her senseless murmurs. “I, I don't want to be a bother, really. I can, I can find another place to stay and…”

“No,” she said dryly, with a brusque, sudden tone. “Mother Miranda has ordered me to take you in, and that's what I intend to do.”

“Mother Miranda?” you asked, frowning at that strange name, that curious nickname.

“Come,” the lady said, turning and going up the stairs, where, on the wall, a portrait of a woman seemed to be watching you.

It was a beautiful woman, wearing the same dress as Lady Beneviento, holding what looked like a sinister doll. A shiver ran down your spine again.

“How cool, it's really cool!”

“My dad gave it to me, it's called...”

“Here, (Y/N),” the woman in black interrupted that kind of feeling, those voices that echoed in your head, pointing to a small room, where you would surely stay.

“Oh, okay... Do I stay here?” you asked nervously, passing by her, smelling the lavender of her perfume, one that, strangely, also seemed familiar to you.

She nodded slightly, letting you pass without taking her hidden gaze off you, you could feel it.

“Th, thank you… Donna? Lady Beneviento?” you said with exaggerated kindness. A growl came from the black veil, as if the simple act of saying her name had been terribly offensive to her.

She didn't answer. She simply left the room, closing the door with a loud slam.

“Well, it could have been worse,” you sighed, letting yourself fall on the small bed.

You were too tired to start your research and, after everything that had happened, you decided to call it a day, lying down and closing your eyes.

“You're wrong... Nobody could ever, ever like me with... This, this face...” a young woman said, again, without a face, without a clear voice, sitting next to you in a vague place.

“Nonsense, you are... You are beautiful, D…” you said, convinced of something you couldn't see.

“No, I'm not,” the teenager said, with a voice that was increasingly dark and distorted.

“I, I like you...” you said shyly, looking at your legs, dressed in a strange dress, full of patterns of colors that you had never seen before.

“Do... Do you like me?” the young woman asked, with a distant voice, just as vague.

You nodded, with the familiar burning sensation of blushing on your cheeks.

“I like you too…” that dark voice said, that blurry figure, leaning closer to you. “Even though… Even though we are friends, I… I wanted, I wanted to tell you that…”

Suddenly you opened your eyes, waking up from a dream like any other, of conversations with a faceless woman, with an unknown girl, a conversation too lucid, too concrete.

“Uff…” you sighed, sweating in bed, shaking your head and looking for your notebook, although you had nothing to write on it. “When I get home, I'll have to see a doctor…”

Tired, needing to freshen up, you left the room in search of the bathroom, peeking through the door, checking that there were no sinister ladies nearby.

The house was completely dark and, not wanting to disturb your hostess's rest, you took out your useless phone, turning on the flashlight to guide you around that place.

“Much better…” you sighed when you refreshed yourself in the sink, with that inaudible voice, with that feeling from your dream still very present in your thoughts. You turned off the tap, or well, you tried to, it seemed that the sink had no intention of obeying you.

As if you had a silent revelation, you pulled the handle, moving it gently until the water stopped coming out. It was like… Like you suddenly knew you had to do this, like you'd done it before.

You stood there, stunned, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“There's a trick, you have to pull it a bit, otherwise it won’t close… My parents say that one day they will fix it…”

Again that strange voice passed through your mind, forcing you to put your hands on your temples, which were throbbing intensely, threatening another one of your horrible migraines, migraines that you had since you were very young.

“Not now…” you said in a whisper, knowing that you hadn't brought your medications, that you didn't consider them a priority. “Shit, does this crazy woman have some ibuprofen?” you asked, walking towards the stairs, going down them slowly.

The portrait caught your attention again, that stoic beauty, that sinister puppet…

“Hello? Lady Beneviento?” you asked in the darkness, illuminating the mansion with your phone, getting no answer. “I'll have to look on my own… I'm a researcher, right?” you joked to yourself, passing through the door that seemed to lead to a dining room, one that, somehow, you found familiar.

The musty smell, the furniture, that feeling of loneliness you had already felt. You didn't have to pay attention to the obstacles, you dodged them without wanting to, knowing where they were. You didn't give it any importance, your head was already starting to hurt.

A creaking sound behind scared you, the sound of wood sinking under something, a small footstep. Nothing, everything seemed to be as usual. Everything? No. In a small corner, on top of a sofa that you thought was empty, there was something, something sinister that you recognized instantly, a doll, the same doll in the portrait.

You were born curious. Nothing could stop you from approaching it.

“What is this?” you asked, approaching the puppet, carefully picking it up and moving it in your arms. The sound of the wooden joints caused another horrible feeling of déjà vu. “A ventriloquist doll?”

You examined that doll with curiosity, moving it to look for something, something that would tell you why your heart had started beating fast.

“Why do I have the feeling that we have seen each other before?” you murmured, passing your hand over its broken face, destroyed by the arrangements that it had to have over time.

“Ha! Not at all, stupid! Get me off your filthy foreign hands, stupid, stupid!”

“Yiahhh!” you screamed, letting the puppet fall to the floor.

It couldn't be a dream, or a nightmare, or even your imagination. You had seen that doll move, you had heard it speak. You weren't crazy, you had heard it.

“Shit,” you said scared, stepping back, looking at the doll, which was now inert on the floor. “What the...?”

Fearful, you picked up your phone, pointing it again at the doll, which didn't seem to move. Relieved because you thought it had been a silly thing, you picked it up again, leaving it on the couch with a frown.

“Damn jet lag…” you lamented, passing a trembling hand over your forehead, sighing, watching that horrible doll.

But the doll was not the strangest thing of all. In a corner, on a nearby table, there was what looked like an old framed photograph, a black and white one, straight out of another era. Two girls appeared on it, one of them dark-haired, with hair as black as the night, with skin as pale as the Moon. On her face there was a scar that kept her right eye closed.

You didn't know who she was, you couldn't know, even though she looked suspiciously like the woman in the portrait, a few years younger, of course.

But that coincidence wasn't what made your body tremble again. Next to her, another girl smiled excitedly, holding a teddy bear. You had to look at her several times to make sure that, like that doll, it hadn't been some kind of hallucination due to the time change.

“No...” you sighed, picking up that photo, looking at that girl over and over again. “It can't be...”

You nervously picked up your phone, hurriedly browsing through the photo gallery until you found what you wanted, a photo of yourself when you were little, a photo of a girl identical to the one in that portrait.

“Amazing,” you said, comparing the two photos. There was a rather disturbing resemblance.

A sinister laugh distracted you from your astonishment. You searched everywhere, focused on the doll. Nothing.

Fearful and scared, you decided to go back to your room. Maybe in daylight you could clarify everything.

“Good, good morning,” you said in a timid voice, rubbing your eyes as you walked down to the dining room. The lady in black was already there, sitting at the table, quiet, as if she were a ghost, as if she wasn't even there.

Walking towards the table, you glanced at the doll, which seemed to still be in the same position. Donna's response to your kindness was a simple nod.

“Um... Can I... Can I have some coffee?” you asked timidly, pointing at an old coffee pot. “It looks great. It smells great.”

“You don't like coffee,” the lady said in a hoarse voice, with a soft tone that seemed a bit different from the day before. You frowned, sitting in front of her.

“Oh, well, no, not especially but... You know, college changed my mind,” you explained amused, pouring some liquid into a cup, not having noticed that information she provided, something she shouldn't, she couldn't know.

Donna sighed, playing with her spoon, not wanting to look at you, but at the same time, not being able to not do it.

“Mother Miranda says you’ve come to study plants,” she commented, after a tense moment of silence. You nodded, setting your cup down on the table.

“It’s for my PhD. My parents told me this place could be very interesting,” you explained in a calm voice, still keeping an eye on the doll on the couch.

“Your parents,” she said, completely ignoring your motivations.

“Yes…” you affirmed with a fake smile. “It, it seems that they knew Miranda for a long time. She worked with them in some kind of scientific corporation.”

“But you weren't born here,” she said, with a dark, intriguing voice, as if she knew the answer to her own questions. That made you remember things that you didn't like to talk about.

“No, I… I was born, I was born in… Well, I don't know exactly where I was born. I'm… I'm adopted,” you said, annoyed by that indiscretion. The lady in black nodded with disinterest.

“What happened to your biological parents?” the woman in black asked, sinking a dagger into your fragile feelings, starting to annoy you.

“I, I didn't know them, I…” you murmured with your hand shaking, with the sadness of your past starting to stir your heart. “I don't feel comfortable talking about this with a stranger.”

“Stranger…” she murmured, crossing her arms, as if she were mocking you. You couldn't know, the veil on her face hid her expressions. “You're in my house, you have to show some respect for me.”

“Respect?” you asked, arching your eyebrows. “You're the one who asks me personal things. In my country that's disrespectful.”

“Do you know what is disrespectful?” Donna asked, getting up from her chair and getting dangerously close to you. “Your existence.”

You stood there open-mouthed, not knowing how to respond to that offensive comment, closing your eyes, sighing and trying not to lose your nerves.

“Great, I like you too,” you joked, making the lady turn around abruptly, without saying anything, just breathing with difficulty.

The image of the night before, the image of that photograph you accidentally put in your backpack came back to your mind. It wasn't the best time, but, after all, you weren't doing much to stay in that house. You would have to get out of doubt.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized with a grunt. “I was rude.”

“Me too,” she said, apparently calmer, ignoring your comments.

“Okay…” you sighed in relief, slowly taking the photo frame out of your backpack, looking at it once more. “Hey, who is this girl?”

The lady froze when she saw you with the photo, snatching it from you with a strong tug of her hands.

“What are you doing with that?! This is mine!” she screamed furiously, kicking the floor and tightly clutching the photo to her chest. “It's mine!”

“I, I know, I took it by accident because…” you said nervously, trying to explain why you kept it, what you wanted to know.

“Don't touch my stuff!” Donna protested, upset, with a voice broken by rage and sudden sobs. “Don't touch her!”

“I'm, I'm sorry, but it's just that...” you said, approaching her trembling figure.

“Stupida! What have you come for?! To torture me?! Is it because I couldn't save you?!” she screamed deliriously, unhinged, totally out of her mind. You could run away, take advantage of her madness to escape but... You didn't.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, approaching slowly, trying to calm her down. “Donna, I...”

“Perché?! To lose you wasn't it enough? Haven't I suffered enough?” she stammered, sitting on the floor with her knees on her chest, burying her covered face between them. You, bent down, trying to grab her wrists.

“Please, calm down, please, I, I didn't mean to…” you said nervously, feeling sorry for that sick woman, unintentionally intoxicating yourself with that familiar lavender scent.

“Donna, Donna! Don't do that!” a third voice, which you didn't hear, approached you. “Don't pay attention to this fool. Donna, Donna, sing, sing with me…”

A soft song came out of that black veil, one that seemed to calm her under your watchful gaze. You were so nervous that you didn't notice there was someone else there.

“Fool, damn foolish outsider, you made my Donna cry!”

The voice spoke again, while the lady ran out, crying inconsolably.

“I didn't mean to make her suffer,” you said, standing up, brushing the dust off your pants. “I don't…”

You opened your eyes when you realized there was something strange, someone, something that shouldn't be there. You slowly turned your head, staring in astonishment at that doll, a doll that was no longer lying inert on the couch, but standing next to you.

“No…” you sighed, slowly moving away, your body paralyzed by fear. “Oh, no…”

“What are you looking at, you fool? Have you seen a ghost?” the doll said again, confirming that you hadn't imagined it. It was alive.

“How, how can you…? Oh, no, no, you can't be alive,” you stammered, suppressing the impulse to take out your phone and record that phenomenon.

“You're the one who can't be alive! Stupid outsider!” the doll shrieked, in an unpleasant, shrill tone, walking away from your petrified body. “If you mess with my Donna again, you'll pay dearly! Keep that in mind, Angie is always watching!”

“Angie?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. You had dreamed of that name.

Maybe some fresh air would do you good, and besides, you had to start your investigations.

During the day you walked around the village, looking for those places you saw in your dreams, leaving the plants aside, having a new objective: to know why that place was so familiar to you, what was happening in that cursed village.

The night came too soon and, without wanting it, you were already back in that mansion, next to that living doll and its disturbed owner. The atmosphere was still tense, but something had changed. In front of you, a plate of food that she had prepared for you was waiting.

“It's not poisoned, eat,” Donna whispered, with a voice broken by the crying of hours before, but with a slightly different serenity. You, distrustful but hungry, obeyed.

“Mmm, it has a lot of oregano,” you commented with a false smile. “I always liked tomatoes with a lot of oregano, how did you know?”

The lady shrugged, as if she didn't feel like talking.

It was true that she looked dangerous, that her problems could cause you to have them, but, above all, you had something in mind, you wanted to know why the girl in the photo looked so much like you, why, for so many years, you had dreamed of that place, that house.

“Well…”you stammered, breaking the silence again. “I, I'd like to know something else about… Angie,” you said, afraid of her reaction, looking at the doll, which seemed to be entertaining itself with some balls of wool.

“Angie,” Donna repeated.

“Yes, I… Well, I've never seen a living doll,” you said amused, hiding your fear.

“I suppose you haven’t,” she said, coldly. “If you don't annoy her, she won't do anything to you.”

“Oh, okay…” you said, disappointed with the answer, continuing with that silent dinner, at least until your desire to know, to understand, came back to your head. “So… What do you do here?”

“I make dolls,” the lady answered with a disinterested whisper, leaving you speechless again.

“Wooow, there are a lot of dolls…”

“My father makes them, one day I will be like him”

“Will you make one for me?”

“As many as you want…”

Inopportune whispers echoed in your head, making you drink water, so those feelings would not worsen the tension of that dinner, the first of many others.

“Wow, that's... interesting,” you murmured, feigning interest. Donna didn't answer. She just stared at you through her veil. “I don't know many people who make porcelain dolls.”

That caught the lady's attention, tensing her body and breathing nervously again.

“I didn't say they were porcelain dolls,” she said in a cold, distrustful tone.

“Oh...” you said, regretting your boldness. Porcelain dolls, another entry in your notebook, a recurring vision in your dreams.

Everything was related, there was no doubt. The only thing you didn't understand was what Lady Beneviento had to do with it.

“You knew they are porcelain dolls,” she said again, taking you out of your thoughts, out of the memories of your dreams, memories full of dolls, of laughter, of faceless women.

“No, well, not really,” you said apologetically, pretending that your success had really been a coincidence. “I just said it randomly.”

“That's not true,” Donna whispered, getting up from the chair, approaching you with the same dangerous, slow and threatening step. “You knew it, how?”

“I, I don't know,”-you stammered, blushing at your lie.

“No matter how much you deny it, I know it's you,” she whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek, one that made you stir, but not move away.

“I, I don't know what you're talking about,” you said nervously, turning your face away so those soft caresses would stop.

There was no more conversation. There was nothing else to clarify your confused thoughts.

The days passed slowly, your dreams became more and more unbearable, more intense, the voices that sounded in your subconscious revealed things you didn't know, words that you didn't understand. That figure, that blurred face of that woman refused to be revealed.

You had so many new notes in your notebook that there were no blank spaces left. But all that information didn't make sense. It was confusing, confusing names, distorted voices, imaginary scenarios inside or outside that mansion.

Your doctorate was the main loser. It was as if everything you had gone to do in that village blurred with time. That was the place of your dreams, of your visions, of all the sensations that remained latent in your feelings.

Donna didn't seem to want to overwhelm you with strange phrases, with stupid accusations like the first few days. Her attitude relaxed, she seemed more comfortable with you, although always absent, shy, distant and at the same time eager to get closer.

She was the only thing you didn't understand, but somehow, that voice, the softness that her hands seemed to have, that lavender scent... All of that started to confuse your feelings, to make you start to feel attracted to her, hopelessly.

“Hi, I’m back...” you sighed, carrying two shopping bags.

Of course, living in that huge mansion could be an order from Miranda, but that didn't mean you could live without giving anything in return. Shopping was a task that the lady in black assigned to you, thus freeing herself from having to face her anxieties, the discomfort she felt with people around.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, getting up from the sofa, stoic as always, nervous as never. Yes, her nerves seemed to get worse in your presence, but the softness of her character didn't show it. It was a contradiction.

Donna Beneviento was herself a contradiction, a very... attractive contradiction.

“I think I have everything…” you sighed, leaving the bags on a table. “But I'm afraid that fat guy doesn't make bills.”

She laughed shyly, approaching you and looking at the contents, puzzled by a bottle of wine.

“What is this?” she asked, taking the wine out of the bag, showing it to you. You shrugged.

“Oh, it's Mastrala wine,” you said passively.

Donna laughed again, shaking her head.

“I know what it is but… Why did you buy it?” she asked in a lower tone, getting a little closer to you, giving the bottle back to you.

“Oh, I hope you don't mind. The Duke had that bottle there, and… I don't know, I don't really like wine but I thought I could do something with it,” you said, placing that bottle on the table, one bottled that, since you saw it, caught your attention.

“Something?” the lady in black asked, her voice shaking and her hands playing erratically with each other.

“Yes, well, I was thinking of making something sweet, maybe…”

“Zabaione,” you said, but so did she. You two spoke at the same time, you said the same thing. It was a strange, tense moment, one that made you blink several times.

“Y-yes… Right, right…” you sighed confused, your head claiming your attention again. “Um… Well, I, I guess you like them…”

“Of course she likes them!” Angie interrupted, comically pushing Donna closer to you. “She makes them well, very well, don’t you Donna?”

“I, I guess so,” the lady in black murmured, kicking the doll, who laughed amusedly. You still hadn't gotten used to the puppet, but deep down, you liked it.

“Great, I'll make them right away,” you said, wanting to leave the room before the shadows of the unknown lurked again.

“Why don't you make them together? It could be funny,” the doll suggested, with a strange laugh

“Angie, no…” Donna said head down, with an embarrassed tone for the doll's increasingly less subtle impudence. It was as if Angie knew that something had started to grow between you two.

“Eh, it's true, why not?” you said, rubbing your hands. “But I warn you that I'm quite an expert. Since I was little I made them perfect.”

“Yes, that... That would be... Good,” the lady stammered, guiding you towards the kitchen.

As you entered that dark room, more memories, sensations that you lived in your dreams began to haunt you.

“Stop adding sugar or it will be too sweet”

“Just a little more…”

“(Y/N),” the hoarse voice of the lady in black blurred the voices in your head. “The sugar is in…”

You looked down, automatically opening the door of a cupboard, taking out the sugar packet, without really knowing how. How could you know it was there?

“Here,” you said in a small voice, a bit confused, more than usual. “Um… I'm going, I'm going to get the yolks.”

Cooking with the lady in black seemed like a good candidate to be your favorite hobby. Donna laughed while you talked about anything, about college experiences, about your travels… Everything seemed like a gift to her, like a sweet melody that calmed her spirit. Her soft laugh, her shy words and that sweet accent, also calmed yours.

“Perfect, I told you so,” you said, admiring the result with satisfaction. “I can't wait to try them.”

“You were always so impatient,” ​​Donna whispered, wiping her hands with a rag, leaving you again with a loose wire, speaking to you in the past tense, as if she already knew you, as if she did one day.

“It's one of my flaws, yes,” you murmured in a less euphoric tone, helping her to clean up the kitchen. “What do we do with the egg whites?”

“The egg whites? Oh, well, maybe I could make a…”

“Meringue, I love meringue,” you interrupted, with an innocent smile. She nodded, sighing sadly. “My mother used to make it, but I constantly annoyed her, always…”

“You always stuck your finger on it,” Donna finished your sentence again. Once again, you couldn't deny the evidence. She knew too much.

“Y-Yes…” you affirmed, nodding slowly, with a cold sweat running down your forehead.

“You could never stay still, Olga,” she said, making you frown, blinking several times, thinking you had heard wrong.

“Olga?” you asked confused. You didn't remember that name in your notebook, or in your dreams. More problems, more unanswered questions.

Donna looked at you, but then pulled away, shaking her head.

“I'm sorry, I’ve made a mistake,” she said in a very low tone, one that was regretful and broken. “Take the sweets upstairs, I'll make some tea.”

“Okay, but…” you said, seeing how the lady seemed to tremble again, how one of her crises was about to ruin a wonderful afternoon. “Should I help you?”

“No,” she growled, clenching her fists tightly. “Go away.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, putting a hand on her back, one that she rejected, moving violently.

“Vai via!” she shrieked, making you, resigned, obey, taking the tray with the sweets and leaving the lady alone, beginning to sob.

You waited a while for her to go up again, with the annoying Angie dancing around you.

“Hey, Angie, who's Olga?” you asked, picking up the puppet from the floor, causing it to kick violently.

“Let me go, you rude girl!” she shrieked. “Have you never looked yourself in a mirror?”

You obeyed with a frown, knowing that you would never get an answer from that irreverent puppet. Luckily, Donna soon appeared.

The taste of those sweets along with the tea transported you to an unknown place, recognizing the mixture of the darkness of the house, the humidity, the steaming tea, those delicious sweets...

“Even though you're my friend, I... I, I want, I want to tell you that...”

“Come on, talk”

“I know it won't come true if I say it, but, but... My birthday wish has been... To give you, to give you a kiss...”

That image appeared in your head, the image of that strange dream, of that blurry woman who slowly approached you, placing her blurry lips on yours. You even brought your hand to your mouth, believing you had felt that kiss, you had noticed the softness of those unknown lips.

“(Y/N),” Donna, who had remained silent until that moment, spoke to you. The sensation of that kiss disappeared with her words. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you in the kitchen.”

“No, well, it's okay,” you said, trying one of those sweets, much less pleasant than that imaginary kiss. “We all make mistakes.”

“I haven't made a mistake,” she said in a more serious tone, with her cup of tea shaking in her hands. “Do you remember the photo you stole from me?”

“Oh, I didn't steal anything from you, I took it by accident and…” you said, getting scared by that cold attitude, one that she hadn't had with you for a long time.

“Taci, I'm talking,” she protested, nervous.

You nodded, eating slowly, bringing your cup to your lips so as not to say more nonsense.

“The, the girl was… She was…” she said, her voice breaking. “Olga, she was my best friend, the only one, in fact…” she explained, causing your heart to beat faster for no reason. “Let me ask you a question, (Y/N).”

“Mm,” you murmured, interested in that conversation, afraid to say why that girl, Olga, seemed so curious to you.

“I know you don't like to talk about it but… What is your first memory?” she asked in a mysterious, studious voice. You gulped down the tea, embarrassed by the answer.

“You're not the first one to ask me, the, the kids at school laughed at me when I answered,” you said amused, but nervous.

“I'm not going to laugh,” Donna said, with a serious tone, with one that said under that black veil, there was no smile. “Answer, per favore.”

“T, the truth is… It's not exactly a memory... It was more like a dream,” you said, lowering the tone of your voice, immersing yourself in your thoughts, in the dream that was the first, the first of hundreds of them.

She nodded for you to continue.

“Well, I dreamed that I was surrounded… I don't know, by some kind of black branches… I know it was cold, I remember the cold and…  I, I don't know, suddenly my parents appeared and… I, I woke up… Or so I think.”

“Mm,” she murmured, calmly placing her cup of tea down. “Do you usually have those kinds of dreams?”

“Not exactly,” you said, with a serious tone, frowning, ready to reveal for the first time, your concerns, feeling strangely safe next to Donna, comfortable, even… Happy. “This, this will seem crazy to you but… I… I have been here before. I mean, before I arrived… I couldn’t explain why but I… I already knew this place, this house…”

“Did you know me?” she asked suddenly, not surprised by what you were saying, something that confused you even more.

“No, I'm sorry... I've never, ever dreamed about you,” you said, sure of your words.

“I've been dreaming about you for over 30 years,” she whispered in a sad tone. “Since I lost you.”

“30 years?” you asked confused, with a burning sensation in your chest, with all those unknown voices wandering through your mind, overwhelming you, making you tremble. “But, but that's impossible, I... I'm 25 and...”

The lady in black didn't answer, she simply moved her hand to the veil that covered her face, moving it away, letting it fall on the table. She was a beautiful woman, really beautiful, the woman in the portrait, the girl in the photograph. Dark hair, pale skin, one eye, the other hidden by a horrible scar.

You, absorbed by her beauty, by discovering the appearance of that woman for whom you were beginning to have feelings, stood still, studying her features.

“You are… You are beautiful,” you stammered, with a different feeling in your chest, with a deep, sonorous beat, a different one, not nervous, but excited. The voices fell silent, the thoughts of your dreams stopped appearing. In your mind, there was only Donna.

The lady in black, letting a tear slide down her cheek, shook her head.

“You still don't remember me,” she said, lowering her gaze, desperate not to make you understand what she wanted to say, that missing piece in the puzzle of your mind.

“No, I'm, I'm sorry… I don't know why I would have to remember you… I, I don't know what I'm doing here, I…” you said, overwhelmed by the situation, nervous, with an imminent anxiety attack. “Hey, Donna, I, I had a good time with you but, but, I think, I think it's better that I go before I lose my mind.”

“Don't go,” Donna whispered, getting up from the chair at the same time as you. “Don't go, please.”

“I, I don't know what's going on, why, why do I feel like I should be here and at the same time I shouldn't. I don't know why... I, I can't stand it anymore,” you said, shaking your head, with a crazy look, walking towards the entrance. A strong grip on your wrist prevented you from doing so.

“Even at the risk of losing you once again, I can't let you go without first... Without first fulfilling my wish again,” she sobbed, approaching you. You shook your head, crying too, too nervous.

“Your birthday wish,” you said without thinking, remembering that recurring dream, that kiss that a few moments ago you thought you felt on your lips. You went pale, with your eyes wide open, paralyzed.

The lady in black nodded, running her hand over your cheek, getting closer, closing her one eye before closing the distance between you, before kissing you slowly, with soft lips.

A shock went through your body. A tremor nullified the mobility of your muscles while your brain ran through all the images of your life, all your dreams, your dèjá vu. There were no longer blurred figures, incomplete sentences. The truth was revealed in your mind.

“Blow out the candles, Donna”

“Olga, do you think I'm beautiful?”

“I like you, Donna”

“I want us to be friends forever…”

“I have something to tell you”

“I liked kissing you, tell me you'll come back tomorrow”

“I'll come back tomorrow…”

The woman without a face, that blurred figure, was no longer one. Black hair, a scar, a melodic accent, a soft voice, a dazzling smile, the smell of lavender…

Donna, it was her, she was the mysterious woman, that woman of your dreams, that little girl who played with you, that young woman who kissed you that rainy afternoon, that afternoon after which, you couldn't remember, or dream anything.

Endless experiences, memories, clouded your thoughts while her lips kissed you, while that feeling of having done that before invaded you, telling you that it was true, that you were madly in love with her, with your best friend, that you kissed her, that she kissed you, that that afternoon you came home and everything went black.

Family, friends, a strange cult, the figure of Mother Miranda... Your whole life passed through your thoughts. But it wasn't yours, it couldn't be yours.

“Oh, Christine, look at that...”

“My God, it's a baby...”

“Where did it come from? Poor girl...”

“Look at that, it's the mold...”

“God, what does this mean?”

“I, I don't know, but, we can't leave her here...”

The voices of your adoptive parents were the last thing you heard before opening your eyes, before pulling away from that warm kiss. As if drugged, as if you were very far from that place, you brought your hands to the brunette's face, looking at it again and again, with the salty taste of your tears still on your lips. Donna, it was Donna, it was that girl you loved, the one you loved once, in another life.

“Donna… It's you…” you sighed, confused but sure of what you saw, of what you felt. That attraction for the lady in black disappeared under a sea of ​​love, of feelings that had remained locked away for too long. “My God, Donna, I, I remember you.”

“Do you remember me?” she asked confused, letting herself be caressed by your trembling hands, getting closer, studying your lost gaze.

“I, I don't know why but… I… I…” you said nervously, smiling involuntarily, drawing her towards you to kiss her again. “I, I, I loved you, I loved you even without knowing you, I knew I loved you…”

“(Y/N)…” she sighed, shaking her head. “I could never tell you… You, you left before I could tell you how, how in love I was with you.”

“I… I died, right?” you asked, unable to stop caressing her, unable to stop smelling that lavender scent, her scent, the scent of the unknown love of your life.

“Yes, you… You, you fell off a cliff… And… I… I was left so alone…” she said, kissing you desperately.

Everything fit, even your irrational hatred of heights.

“I, I don't know how to understand this… I, I’m (Y/N). I’m, I'm not Olga…” you said nervously again, grabbing her sweaty hands, losing yourself in the softness of her skin. “I will never, never be.”

“So…” she whispered, moving away from your touch, sobbing heartbreakingly. “Even knowing, knowing who you really are… You, you will leave.”

“I don't know who I am, or who I was… I just, I just know that… That I love you. It’s the only thing I'm sure of right now.”

“Who loves me?” Donna asked abruptly, with her lips pressed together, with a fury shining in her eye.

“I love you,” you whispered, lowering your head, not wanting to think that you had been reincarnated, that you were never (Y/N), that you were a projection of a girl who died, who ceased to exist, and then came back.

“Who are you, (Y/N)?” she asked again, coming closer timidly, taking your hands, playing with them, hoping to hear an answer that wasn't a rejection.

“I, I guess if… If I want to know… I'll have to, I'll have to stay with you,” you whispered softly, pulling on her waist, kissing her again, wanting to feel those soft lips on yours again, and forever.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, pulling away, crying just like you, confused, just like you, but in love... Just like you. “You, you don't know me. (Y/N) doesn't know me.”

“Of course I know you,” you said smiling. “You've been living in my dreams for a long time.”

[pininghermit]

To Linger is to Love

AN: I was so pissed after reading 17 year old love interests that I had to write a better one. It was urgent and very much necessary to write it before a block. (Arwen coded reader goes so well with him)

Genre: romance and pining

Pairing(s): Vampire hunter D x Elven Reader

Summary: You are an elf, your time on this earth long since passed. Most of your kin have vanished into their blessed realm, leaving behind only echoes. Yet you linger, bound to a world that no longer sings your name. For him.

Long have I sought your path, son of Dracula," you whisper, and D turns, the moonlight painting your face in silver, a vision etched from the dreams of the old world.

Once again, you have slipped through the veil of sound, your steps so light that even his supernatural senses faltered. Such silence belongs only to the eldest of beings, elves of forest and sea, who carry the light of a world shrouded in memory.

Yours is a light that lingers like the final notes of a song, woven into the very fabric of the earth. Elves, the true nobility of the old world, are what his kind have always sought to emulate, though they never could.

Now you stand before him, timeless and haunting, and D drinks in your presence as a wanderer drinks rain. He cannot help himself.

Even the shadow of his father’s name, the sacred Ancestor, fades to irrelevance in this moment. Too many lifetimes have passed since last he saw you; too many moments stolen by the cruel march of time.

In your eyes, he sees the weariness wrought by his absence, a sorrow deeper than grief, as though the world itself has tried to erase you. Yet you remain, defiant and whole.

When your hand rises to touch his cheek, he cannot resist. Your touch, featherlight and eternal, undoes him. You lift his hat, and he bows into your palm as though seeking absolution.

Of all the souls he has encountered, damsels in peril, admirers, and mourners—none have touched his heart. His heart has been yours, always yours, claimed by the fairest creature of the old earth.

You, the princess of long-forgotten elves. You, the moonlight upon your father’s valley. A star fallen to a world that no longer deserves you.

“I am not welcome in your halls,” D murmurs, his voice low and weak to your unyielding gaze. The words are truth; your father, lord of the elves, bears no love for him. To your kin, he is an intruder. A dhampir who defies the old ways.

But elves have little love for any beyond themselves and their kin. However, their immortal hearts were more easily swayed by vampires than by men who destroy their sacred groves.

You smile, a secret held in the curve of your lips. "When did my father’s disapproval ever stop you?" you ask, your voice a melody that hums in the air. Even the simplest words are a song, a fragment of the music that shaped the world.

With playful grace, you tug gently at his ear. D, ever the stoic, leans into the gesture without protest. He would not harm you, even in jest.

"My heart is my own to give," you say, the eternal debate stirring again between you, inevitable as the tides.

D frowns, though in your presence, even this resistance feels like a burden. "It is no life for you," he counters, his voice heavy with sorrow.

"Listen to your father. Return to your world." He steps back, the absence of your touch leaving an ache he cannot name. The grief in your eyes strikes him like a blade.

How many times have you stood like this, warring with love and duty?

He is dhampir, trapped between worlds, cursed to atone for his father’s sins. Neither mortal nor immortal, something forever between.

You are an elf, your time on this earth long since passed. Most of your kin have vanished into their blessed realm, leaving behind only echoes. Yet you linger, bound to a world that no longer sings your name. For him.

The forests will fall, as all things do, to the greed of men. Your kin will dwindle, their blood staining the soil that birthed them. D cannot bear to imagine you among them, cannot endure the thought of your light extinguished in this broken world.

“Life and death are not meant to coexist,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “This world is not yours. To remain here will bring only sorrow.”

Your gaze holds his, steady and enduring, as though it has borne the weight of eternity itself. There is no anger, only unshakable resolve that cuts through his darkness. “Then I choose sorrow by your side over an eternity apart,” you reply, your words gentle but firm, like ancient trees weathering countless storms.

A breath catches in D’s throat, but you do not relent. “You and my father may forbid our union,” you continue, a melody filled with pain and defiance. “And I shall comply. I cannot force you to love me, but I will not stop loving you. If you do not wish my company, then I shall remain here, waiting, until my heart fades into this earth, forgotten as my kind has been.”

For a moment, your eyes blaze with a light so fierce it sears him, cutting through the walls around his heart. It is not a sharp pain, but a deeper ache, the agony of yearning for what cannot be.

D is silent, his breath heavy with unspoken words. In your wisdom, he finds no argument, no foothold to deny the truth you have laid bare. For all his efforts to save you, all his noble intentions, he has only brought you suffering.

And yet, in your gaze, there is no blame. Only love. Unfathomable, undying.

He turns his head, as though the sight of you is too much to bear, but your image lingers behind his closed eyes. How cruel it is that the one thing he cannot allow is the one thing he desires above all else.

“You deserve more,” he murmurs, his voice faltering. “More than I can give. More than this life will allow.”

“And yet,” you answer softly, stepping closer, “it is you I have chosen.”

For a long moment, D doesn’t move. His hand hovers over yours, trembling, before finally closing around it, warm and firm. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so delicate it feels like an apology, a promise, and a farewell all at once.

“I shall love you to my end,” he whispers, his voice heavy with a sorrow he cannot escape. “Never will you carry the burden of heartbreak, for my heart will always be yours. Yet there is no union for our tale.”

You rest your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart beneath the leather a comfort against the ache of his words. The faint scent of jasmine drifts from you, wrapping around him like a memory he can never quite hold.

“So be it,” you murmur, your voice soft, steady. “I shall not ask for a union, as long as we walk under the same stars, as long as the winds speak of you, and for so long as I am able to await your return.”

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

New Rule: Gender Apartheid | Real Time with Bill Maher

And finally, New Rule: if you're out protesting for a couple of hours wearing this...

... you have to go all the way and spend an afternoon running errands wearing one of these.

You can't side with the people who ruthlessly oppress women without at least getting a taste of what you're supporting.

Well, now that summer is here and the Hamas-backing college protesters have dispersed back to their summer internships at Goldman Sachs, I thought it might be a good time to say this: I actually admire your youthful idealism, and our world would be poorer without it. Much like your parents who just wasted 300 grand on that ignorance factory you call a college.

Not that I think it's your fault, being this poorly educated and morally confused. That takes a village. Shitty schools, overindulgent parents, social media, that priest who rubbed lotion on you.

But three cheers to you for at least having the impulse to seek a cause in something bigger than yourself. It's just that the one you picked, you missed the boat by a fucking mile.

But here's the good news. You want a cause? Cuz I totally got one for you. Apartheid. Yeah, apartheid, the thing you've been shouting about with Israel for months. Never mind that Israeli Arabs are actually full citizens. You learned that word from a 2 Chainz song and discovered that protesting South Africa's apartheid in the 80s was a righteous cause, and so it was. To this day, when celebrities are asked, who is the person they most admire, one name is always the safest choice.

So, naturally, when you heard that Israel was an apartheid state it gave you such a boner you literally pitched a tent.

You knew how wrong it was when tens of millions of South Africans had been treated like second class citizens just because of their race.

But here's the thing. Today, right now, hundreds of millions of women are treated worse than second class citizens. When you mandate that one category of human beings don't even have the right to show their face, that's apartheid. And it goes on in a lot of countries.

For the last couple years, women in Iran have been saying, "take this hijab and shove it." Because in 2022, a young woman named Mahsa Amini was arrested for wearing her mandatory hijab incorrectly and then died in police custody. And now security forces have killed over 500 people protesting her death and this obvious human rights violation. How about defunding those police?

Amnesty International says that, "Iranian authorities are waging a war on women that subjects them to constant surveillance beatings sexual violence and detention." What P. Diddy calls a hotel stay.

In Iran, MeToo isn't a movement, it's what a woman says when another woman says, my life sucks.

Yasmine Muhammad is a human rights activist who got married off to a Muslim man with fundamentalist views about women not exactly uncommon in the Muslim world. He forced her to wear the niqab all the time, including once beating her because she took her hijab off at home, because the apartment had a window through which people might see in. And this was in Vancouver.

Here's what Yasmine said about veiling.

"It just suppresses your humanity entirely. It's like a portable sensory deprivation chamber and you are no longer connected to humanity. You can't see properly. You can't hear properly. You can't speak properly. People can't see you. You can only see them. Just little things. Passing people on the street and just making eye contact and smiling, that's gone. You're no longer part of this world, and so you very quickly just shrivel up into nothing under there."

And that's my answer when someone says "Islamophobe."

Really, feminists? Come on, there's got to be a happy medium between a husband making his wife wear this, and a husband making his wife wear this.

I know 1619 was bad, but this is happening right now, right under your nose rings. And it's not just the clothes. 15 countries in the Middle East, including Gaza, have laws that require women to obey their husbands. Laws. Not just Harrison Butker's opinion.

And those societies also have guardianship laws, which means a woman needs permission from her husband to work, to travel, to leave the house, to go to school, to get medical attention. Nothing?

Honor killings, where women are murdered by their own fathers and-or brothers happen so frequently they can't even have an accurate account of how many.

In 59 countries, there are no laws against sexual harassment in the workplace, and many have no laws against domestic violence or spousal rape. 20 countries have marry-your-rapist laws. Multiple societies have laws about what jobs women can and can't do. Make a Barbie movie about that. 30 countries practice female genital mutilation, and 650 million women alive today were married as children.

Kids, if you really want to change the world and not just tie up Monday morning traffic, this is the apartheid that desperately needs your attention. Gender apartheid. This is what should be the social justice issue of your time. How about, from the river to the sea, every woman shall be free?

But in reality, it's not an issue at all. For one reason: the people who are doing it aren't white. I hate to have to be the one to break it to you kids, but non-white people can do bad things too. Now, white on black racism certainly has been of one of history's most horrific scourges. But also, it's true that in today's world being non-white means you can get away with murder.

So good on you kids for following your instinct to protest social injustice. Just remember, when it comes to finding a cause, pulling your head out of your ass is an important rite of passage.

==

They won't do it not just because it's Intersectionally inconvenient, but also because it would require admitting that, as citizens of first world countries and students of Ivy League universities, not only do they not live in a "patriarchy," but they're some of the freest, most privileged, most self-determining people who have ever lived in the world at any time, ever.

And, having spent decades crafting a narrative of being long-suffering and "oppressed," they'd have to surrender the significant social, political and economic capital that narrative affords, by fighting for women in Iran, Gaza, Afghanistan and other countries to have the same rights and privileges they take for granted. And regularly spit on.

[the-promise-has-been-made]

I feel like I wanna go see Hadestown like... six more times, just so I can focus on one specific character each time because they all have such unique little quirks to their performances. But specifically:

Hades has this super camp, cocky confidence. Like, when Chant 2 was happening and he and Persephone were circling around the workers and Orpheus, the man was STRUTTING!!! He had more of a hip sway that any other character, he was on a cat walk and we were all just peasants! You coud tell me right now Zachary James has a background in drag and I would believe you wholeheartedly, I am convinced that man can walk in heels better than I can. Right after the lights shorted out after 'I CONDUCT THE ELECTRIC CITY!' man stood there like a class 1 slut with 'tell you wat, young man' like, sir? Sir?!! Like I don't know, the patrick page recordings always had something very dignified to them but this Hades was SEXY and he knew it! But at the same time, he was so insecure about Persephone. Thre were so any instances whre he tried to reach for her, and she moved away, or pushed away, and it was breaking him, visibly. Such fantastic nuance. Like every time he tried to be vulnerable with her, it failed and so he dialled up the cockyness instead and it just got away from him. That's what it felt like. Like 'shit, well, now I committed to this now I gotta see it through!'

And Hermes giving supreme butch energy, flirting with Persephone. Hades was worried about his wife in the arms of the sun? Bro, you should be worried about the God witth feathers on their feet, they're out to steal yo woman. But also, the way Hermes knew how it all would turn out thrughout the whole thing. Like, with the other characters, it doesn't feel like that. But Hermes is the narrator, they break the forth wall, they know the song. It's in the way they gently touch Eurydice's shoulder before the show even starts, as if asking for permission to tell her tragedy again. It's in the way they look at her when she goes to pay for her passage into the underworld, the unspoken 'are you sure? We can still do this another way it doesn't have to be like this' but because they know how the story has to go, they can't actively interefere. Because that's not how Hermes operates. The sour disappointment when they tell Orpheus that Eurydice is gone, and that she cried his name before she went, there is veiled accusation there that Orpheus could have - should have - stopped this but wasn't listening (and maybe even shame that Hermes themselves did not stop it even though they knew what would happen?). The long stretches of silence at the Road to Hell reprise, with Orpheus just sitting there, sobbing, and Hermes just letting it settle in for everyone - no music, no other sounds, just the very quiet '...It's a sad song...' Oooofff.

And of course... Orpheus. I don't know if it's just the different voice and accent, or if it's because I saw this one live, but the Broadway recording always sounds very theatrical to me whereas Dónal Finn's performance was RAW. Absolutely gut-wrenching. He managed to bring across the sweet charme and comedy in Wedding Song, the hesitant insecurity in his own abilities in Epic 1, the determination in Wait For Me 1, where he is still confident that he can do this, that he can bring his love back. And then he gets to the Undeworld and is completely broken. Is It True is actually devastating. The way he first just lies on the floor, forcing the words out in pain, in resignation, before the workers hear and join his song and he gathers new strength and not just strength but also the ANGER that this is supposed to be the world when he KNOWS the world can be better than this. Like, in the recordings, I knew from the lyrics this was a song meants to unite the workers in protest but DAMN in the performance I actually wanted to stand up with him! And then he sings his whole heart out in Epic 3 and for a moment there, he's that boy again when Eurydice says 'you finished it!' and he goes 'I did!' and throws his hands up in glee. And it looks like everything is going to work out. But Doubt Comes In tears all of that away, because the entire time, when he sang there were others there with him. When he sang Epic 3, everyone sang along like it was supposed to be, like Hermes said 'the Gods sang their song of love, and the world sang it with them' but when he sings now, on the dark road, there is no echo, there is no one answering his song, it's just him and the cold wind, and the doubt personified as the fates in the back of his mind, and he is absolutely losing it. You GET why he turnes around. It's not because he doubts Eurydice's love. It's because he doubts that HE is actually worth walking back in the cold for, it's doubt that he would not be tricked by the Gods. He doesn't doubt her love, he doubts himself! And it was devastating. A devastatingly raw performance. I hope he wins awards for this show, I've never seen anything like it.

[hotasfahrenheit]

i feel like wakeone trying to be like "oh, no, haha, it's okay, we're still negotiating with Kep1er and their agencies to see what we can do about maybe keeping Kep1er together! lol wdym you're worried about their impending contract ending, there's a new album coming out and everything is FINE" is both their poorly veiled tactic to prevent people from not buying the new album because they're upset about Kep1er ending, and also a very pre-emptive effort to stave off worries about ZeroBaseOne eventually having their contract end in the not too distant future.

i admit to not having watched Girls Planet and only being into like one or two Kep1er songs and not really knowing anything about the members as individuals, but from everything i've seen people saying about them, it sounds like they probably don't want to keep the group going. i hope they all get to do what they want, whether it's to continue on together, debut with other groups, debut solo, shift into other things like acting, or get out of the industry entirely.

but fans are weird, and if they think Kep1er is about to split- like they were originally meant to!! -they might not buy the album in protest if they think wakeone is somehow spoiling things for them. so no matter what is actually happening, wakeone is going to play the "everything is being discussed, more news later!" card until the absolute last possible minute, and string everyone along as far as they can get away with that.

i DID watch Boys Planet and have been following ZB1, and i do think that when it comes time, ZB1 is going to stick together if it's even remotely possible because those boys are all obsessed with each other and living in each other's pockets. i wish it could be with a better company, but we'll see what happens. we have over a year before we need to worry about that at least.

[flatbstanley]

Your Guide to Catholic Weddings

Y’all, I love a good wedding. In recognition of this fact, I thought we’d take a break from the heavier stuff and peek into the future. You may recognize some brides and bridesmaids, but no spoilers—you won’t see who they’re marrying.

Also, I’m writing from a US perspective. There are Catholics around the globe, so in reality there’s much, much more variation than you’ll see here. But this post reflects my experience as someone who’s experienced Catholic culture in multiple parts of the US.

All right—let’s take a walk down the aisle!

The Traditionalist Catholic Wedding

Format: A simple marriage ceremony followed by a full Latin Mass. One popular tradition at the end of the Mass is for the bride to place her bouquet in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary and spend a few moments in prayer.

Attire: For the bride and bridal party, shoulders and upper arms MUST be covered. Wraps or cardigans may be used to accomplish this if a suitable dress can’t be purchased off the rack (particularly for bridesmaids). Head coverings are required for women, and accordingly, elaborate bridal veils are common.

Music: The Mass itself is usually chanted. For the processional, popular choices include Charpentier’s “Te Deum”, Parry’s “I Was Glad,” and various hymns to Mary. There’s also “O God Beyond All Praising,” one of the very few post-1960 hymns deemed acceptable to traditionalist Catholics.

Fun fact: The Catholic Church actively discourages the bride being walked down the aisle by her father, saying that it’s a relic of a time when women were treated as property. In the US it’s permitted as a matter of “local custom,” but many traditional Catholic brides opt to walk with both parents or with their soon-to-be spouse.

The Standard Issue Catholic Wedding

Format: A brief wedding ceremony inserted into a typical Catholic Mass.

Attire: A little more modest than a non-Catholic wedding, but you can get away with bare shoulders, depending on the priest. Veils are treated as a fashion choice rather than a required covering.

Music: Recorded music and secular songs (except for some classical pieces) are strictly prohibited, but within that parameter, choices vary widely depending on the couple’s preferences and the abilities of the musicians. Popular choices for the processional are “Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring,” “Canon in D,” Clarke’s “Trumpet Voluntary,” and various works by Handel.

Fun fact: It's customary to invite the priest to the reception (where copious amounts of alcohol will be served—Jesus turned water to wine at a wedding, after all!). At the most recent wedding I attended, the priest was last seen donning a purple cowboy hat and joining a conga line.

The "Oops, I Married a Protestant" Wedding

Format: Similar to a standard Catholic wedding, but you only get the first half of the Mass: the Liturgy of the Word, aka Bible readings. Also a few prayers, most notably the Lord's Prayer.

Attire: Same as the standard Catholic wedding.

Music: Similar to a standard Catholic wedding, but priests are generally more agreeable to including Protestant hymns when one party is, in fact, a Protestant.

Fun fact: The Church has no issues with a Catholic and a Protestant having a full Mass for their wedding, but somebody will have to tell Grandma that she can't take communion in a Catholic church even though she's been doing it in her own church for 80 years. You may also have to endure complaints from Protestant relatives regarding the "Catholic calisthenics" - sit down, stand up, kneel, stand up...

The Catholic Beach Wedding

Format: Catholic weddings MUST take place in a church. This can present a problem if your heart is set on a beach wedding. But if you have the money and the logistical know-how, there’s a solution: Find a Catholic church located near the ocean and have your wedding there.

Attire: Ranges from traditional to modern, but generally on the loose, flowing side due to the beach setting. Also, expensive—if you have the funds for a destination wedding, there’s generally money to burn on a gown.

Music: You have two choices: take your chances on the local musicians, or fly in the musicians of your choice (provided that the hosting church will even allow that). Aren’t logistics fun?!?

Fun fact: Because most priests are reluctant to perform weddings for people they don’t know, Catholic beach weddings are usually BYOP—Bring Your Own Priest. Given the massive amount of paperwork that is required to perform a wedding outside your home diocese, the poor guy will probably need a beach vacation after everything you’ve put him through.

[libidomechanica]

Is faithless range; come, what

A ballad sequence

               1

Now that undulation grew in the wrangling     violin struck with his dead: o let me tell me when she like new; if thou mine, that I took     you years to come. Is faithless range; come, what a girl-graduates in my brows, I was     certainties shall I love: and what your gifts apply, as when clock-work of Time, and wooers seek that     beech will wee. Of beam of death do us

parted hung, the moulding its orbits as mine     ear. If all their names to force—gold, of moons shalbe prove his bow’d thro’ Heaven they would aim an     angry models jetted steps of me, but better scorn the world, and lost, that ye car’d na     a flie; but feede, and pen recording with Heydeguyes, and every sun the words to name;     blendeth its orbits as true! Thy

convention blow, and in the veil his wonted glebe, or     lops the board and implores Tell him ashamed to sea, the couch should be the salt as iced gusts     of that heart and rounded with had been an effort to passion roll a sphere ourselves in     immemories, moved their silent coin; for being to face and piteous works of will not     where thro’ life that may thy side hortensia

pleas’d our lives in my own.—Then disappear the     babe in him lightly down the noon or what had been stars. Beneath the hung a ballad of     heart-stifled, or in emerald. Where the very quiet minstrel in. So drench the vague     desire is shrivell’d in the glowing: astrophel, sayd she, and teach more you now her     nursed Malayan crease my mind is here,

a hand thy flowing: And this working and I gave     his. And in her hands, precisely equal right, a vanish’d nor moved by my lov’d her noble     womanhood darkly join, joints dove, that sang the sank, palsy-twitch #1 with a heau’nly Child,     with song. To praise in me; that from where once more; they trembled together—that which you have     strayning, rubb’d his merit lives it was!

               2

Now God forbids our fancies, or     that—plot of alabaster mother way her in her raven     glossy boot, and the

wounds of all to death. My ex-lover     since Julia lately sentience ere loth, she moved toward him,     though the body bows; man

die! And he knowne worth will woo yourself,     may fail in its break the salt as idle or stretch lame     had so sweet boy; but soon

he rose-blood, and hound his mind!     Numerous thought of gracious fears, Then follow; let the silver-     shedding by me as thou

art just put him’—which you. Glad, tho’     I fancy, and lea, the pulses of that dearness of the     honied houses are our

first with one that fillest friend among     her breathed in you, but me; then will, and down, and meal, robert     Burns: pale, cold morn with

flecks of shepheards roote of each this     wide air, awake unto kinde my forsake to grasp our Christ     that tumbled and flowers.

Mother; for fear it I probably     annoy; stella, whose immovable of sense is not under     so! And cries, saying?

               3

Sprang sublime, that brought win. Verse; one     good at my faithless rang; we sung, some mystic middle of     hern and triple-arch’d—and forever to give war. The hill.     Pledges the rest to me.

               4

For when summer’s angles doe flee.     An infant crying us at least-wise below, that more     strong thy province were such rebuke and bask’d with the forth, this,     Come hidden, the son,—the

children sit cold even whence a     little long-clothed us well; tis an elfin-storm his heart,     most rich when he was, before than a woman in the loves     himself an hour wished grey

melt in. Of gladness flame, and forth     and play hard to rout then death? Change in thy lips on him, this     blood of onward drags a labour was what nymph soe’er experience,     your eyes since Merlin

pain, a lord and undressed. Her     hunger seemed a trouble with shepheard them, but by the dead;     who wears a craggy shelf. And catch her husbandship for a     year and wandering every

thoughts with hoary knolls a dozen     angry was done, such they circles of many Graces,     and I protest tyrannied Walter where theory box     on yon swoll’n brook that pass.

Her faithful eyes, O trees laid think     thy goal so early woke with that long, and many a level     mead, and slight; yet the heaving lies, but his double to     more: I sighed: and the daisy

closed, silence for he is he!     And find when your cheek, crooned, Goodnight kept him can come a     little sick, it’s true—I still, and Heaven, the beech was slowly     away so solid

core of my mother proper place,     and I perceive a name of the truth, angels her the latest     heart thro’ all, if any calm, a calamity hard     crescent from Fancy light

as pure. At this were born, the wholesome     longer her sail to see, noise with honest praised her moods     that played the summer spice that in truthful cherish his boys,     who, when was heart, I know;

North and from all is well. The blossom     winks the city. Descending on the lights in one knee,     and you murdring the carpet as, the beech: we hearing of     youth, like growth of us,

of art, from the bright a feeling     harves with Tears! Female grain: the glimmers to her your cheeks     drop in. The care is and takes a silver cross-wise on     He has just sit on Aunt.

               5

You wrong the full-grown with yourself’s     decrees I, forc’d, agreed, or simple health, the costliest     moon? Mother’s watch it fear.

               6

Pensive talk from the To-be, self-     balanced like mist, the line and I have prest it wasn’t a     disaster. Whatever I

have felt for her sweetest subiect     wert, borne, waiting the dark appease to draw, to say, and love     a cloud possess’d, we can,

the walls of fancy can, if wee     must go, the dear lighted troth but stay’d in yonder drown’d estate     shall be not as of

old, ring on its aluminum     point. Pensive tabloid cruell words to the hues are sealed: A chains     where on their curls, and with

song shall we thread, he ’ll be dimm’d     of Thee! Ring opens mothlike, dear as Cho-fu-Sa. My love,     defiance to be friend,

they desires; by the old bid     her thou loue, who laid him she place thoughtful shore than hinds, and     how that when the water

faucet and make one things but I     should reach at evermore and was mind!—Tell me now, rebell     to see who look’d upon

it with crime, which too deep in their     arms or legs were na coming end your vows, are blessed all we     long year; and quarry; but

speake into thy songe the sign’d, and     that all, one blown overseeing power: and fill it till     their part, wouldst have knows what

anchor weeping Beauty which master’s     tale to do. And all, to the great song by fits, and embeds     every climes, and he

makes a garden of their will; but     she says he is still. Lo! There comfort,—beautiful dream, when     you served and up to those

chamber, and let me loves to see     even tenor had ended balsam, so the hills are play’d     and round thyself her gone

down—will be had. Where his hath his     Nails—he smote stone her breaks about the seeds of all, her Notes     in other shining hung.

               7

Dumb is the moonlight turn’d to Ice,     and found an imitative song of delights to spare the     bower: on me they came:

anon through parent’s shielded she     had hoped, re-father drunkening slant that the end? There shepherds     as to Kings. Weighs not

what am I to say: I say     it went. No joy the bosom, panting force his demanding     and fruitless tribes: and things

are broken staine thou, or any     male nature’s ancient Beadsman, among the heart repose, but     shall like an Alpine

harebell be there hideous crime     to looked up, dead, and strong today when my brow today when     we might the forbade me

with fear: but find him fanes of     old Sir Ralph himselfe the red crone and be a good and iust     title make himself, a

broken. Ring out of darkness is,     for the chair for proctor’s dogs; and on thy side. For love, while     his fronts long sooth supersede

all the sexton, and self-infolds     the lark hand death, when I see. Half-legend of him I     shall bring through twenty posts

of maiden Autumn, dropping of     a star that’s your moan and laughing star, he seed; run out your     sweet till Phosphor, doubt, wherein

these hymns, all forgiven. Hard     to me: a virgin marble, all thy beautiful with him     last yearning like a ghost

which to do. And all the deeps its     leafless ribs and foreheads the graves of thee, and Stand; she taught     them up: she, cut from your

mind. Less year the torches rich which     the gag even as though her on the house from thee. And due     to those command is safe,

and gave all day, And moulder, give     up against the speed ruffle thy grief with ravine, saying     in the glooming bashful.

               8

Would not, but left her woman, tired     of death, and strangely fallen: then your scissors and me     Dead, depriv’d of prison. And the mortal ark behind thyself     an hour will not. But tis an hour badly spight. Strange; once     more to themselues oppress’d

in vassal blest among thy     present broke, nor We to approve as light, then their unborn     faces blood-thirsty raced, and loss and him, heart had you shalt     thou ne’er shadowing for true: to be lost, some grace and tender     blood that I, who seems

no lower spring red, re-father     see how it couldn’t just presume the mute she linnets sing:     since I came, or one in his poor soul, according summer-     time, o’er-driven so wild eyes! And down unto good: what love     hath my brain did makes the

street, for our mystic middle of     the monstrous leagues in child; as yearning, rubb’d his most in yonder     mouth, without abuse the Flame had place where hopes that beech:     we hear they’ve been.-Shower of Joy—to Forty of place, our     pure; gold is turn! Witch-elms

that strike him thro’ early Heaven     is throughout my son these things who loue, what the budded quick,     she eats betrayal like Straw, died his Eyelash dead world-wide     fluctuation sweet about the stately frosty bank of     vapour sail and tiger-

moths, or dancing, fail. And love who     can a world of thy forces. Table coughing soul. The love     doth amaze arise—arise! From out my friend is riches     in milk and flower, shall awake! Down her living whisper     its lips mine early rue!

               9

Eternal, separate mind, hammer     in these love known and play at all we thou were fellowship;     but if the look’d to raise in the songs a dead hand to many     a subtle question

a nap, my heart. A flying to     death, which our lives me coldly tried to our lives there did I     see betwixt the crescent would be the fall, o, turn mine, and     because is sweeps a sea

at rest: thy lost Lady there! Her     legs. Even boast; I was thou forsloe, and battle-clubs from her     lying Fable. Till oblivion, and justice slain. But     in man, among his best.

               10

My feet than magic light be spilt haue harts had made     a man; so the brought that all, nor find the set to leaf: the day is muse, thy lost my wisdom,     like a scar between thing main: no

more, but we with ravine, shrieks and cold, and man. And     Madeline: one unbecoming on the dead leave been. Would have drawn from the greater likest     God with blood that you witch’s sieve, may

read: I wage not in watch the dog became: till on     me, nor knew mankind beats with such a woman, said the different mosses three sins in the     ground: calm at all is well, though the man

we would spy it. I probably ignored young man, be     born, unloved, which name day. And somewhere I could make her track, the propt against the sea. That     all—o true blood of crimson joy: and

of she read, my friend, while our palace gay, greedy     of Shakspeare locke in a golden, April went rosary, and in June; o my loue, all     the truth as if alone is half-dead

to hear, if any vague as Maud is swim across     the master. I question vampires, victimized her shade of the roast measure from nature.     And that fame is going, loue and times:

leaf, in hand the morn breakfast of creed—who wears, that     seem’d at each. A shot, ere wet with what thou, whom cruell Death, to Loues decline and all my pass     athwart thou be later youth, yet worse

than the joy to ever mission should blessing with     yours, but whence and that cries, render gloom is this our house, and how, as halfe with hold itself     in the errant note is good at me!

               11

I know thy lips he is she, the hypnotist’s tranced,     made a wife. Who lets so favourable. Milk-white skin; I hear a wizard music     stricken, confusion: he is much: as

fair head at her wisdom hollow to be friend, doubt,     but since has been, in earth, and lookin’ to mead, and back retire, and o’er the Deluge     or else is not loves here at peal’d the

whole, shoot gaily o’er my lucklesse pate. Faire eyes, and     taught the days that like a band of all, when we meet, old wolf and feels him who sing, All ’s     Well! And I said from end to teares

of spanless that by us; we twain the wilt thou     and I said, their lands; the critic clear me while it deathbell runaway, wherein could flings     he flying smoke of burning into

absence was here upon the hour which it suit me     to passion, drink in notes and poore, you have gone back darker and your state itself will, as     if they are quaint device, if human

sound, a desire that tumbled in her navel     then go home for mutual comfort me. The bounding thro’ all its whisper in heaven’s     deeper anguish’d, the chilling flies and

would but for the mother ankle-deep in me; what     use they are amaz’d, but at the colour days to recommended help—this year white and     he longer your love, young lover who

keeps rustling it liv’d long it liv’d long, then withouten     lincks of deceit, she taught; give me. Of the King this honor, when we saw me lying     smilest, issuing or dancing, folded

down my face the glasses, the heaving splendour     of the blood; than its autumn, dropping days descend, and He that writ it; for Blanche: on to     man; who springs; by that watch the cage,

who lights decay, cald it not find his music, yearns     the question Time, sit side of murdring my wit or will keep their lived again the general     Soul, is fair, I love as rich attire

creed of tacks around the love to have heart, when     all his learnt in fool broken. The hall drowsy Morphean amulet! Love, thy soul from the     palace was born; seal’d to his parch’d with

the frozen bud and such gifts infusedly, and     happy mother until he came from afar, becoming, burst the act! Tho would I doubt.     Know not: her most? The grasses by, and

when you yours in thing, till not blind clangs its render’d     still, my only long and leave the tenses I sink to Us, nor make a new more their     tombs, Petulant white necke a flowery

glen; in shall be not now? The herself would be     thy sister, some please. Oh the blood, my veins fillest from my prayer, It is also to     appeared the virgin limbs a droops the

sea; the answer shore, o sweeping a contumelious     light, stands. Begins the hall flower against things; like meteors and half his idea,     whose you’re psychic no one had touch,

and wave, be quicks, o tell, that I did not from home     to Parnasse hyll, but here’s a name was born of your hours between clasps a spirit is     gone. His pray; and over: find here the

Head on the dying vext with the work is here strong;     delaying with death, o sweet dream; but vaster passing-bell may fail to live the furrow-     cloven fall to stands are lying deep.

               12

But like them tame; and out to do.     No matter all have no part away—that the Beadsman’s face,     but when I can my brow today when the mother’s Ears, and     all our voice, his were soft

and sun blinks with music and made     excuse, till drowse besieging will death; nor an Eye to wail     such private sorrow to what from this mouth, and as a they-     love has part, can now? While

their state complaining struck me dead,     who my soul from thine affection, this soul, a haunts of a     guests, and sadness, though the weeds: whatever lose thou art: Spring.     All loue denied, and

claspt in glowing a mother transfixed     point the golden beauty breath, grave, and shrilled it. I     loved you wert most rich when the breast; she dwelt. In love’s dumb; but     for him, freshlier overrun

all exercise of which not     a sound: each a hand, seen Love’s ephemerald. For us     all out of that I probably took half child, they are amaz’d,     he was others of men,—

what enfeeble songs, that dead sage     could beard to me: a virgin’s face, the silence and this steel,     that the thou hast long, up in the lark shot up and slowly     groue, which is out eating,

idly brokenly, that whisper     tell: rose-buds filled with a kindled at range was little wild-     wood flowe. Good measure mayet thou and I call: Where a place where     she came, in gladness, red

rust in the tapt her disk of self-     murder added suppliantly: it was! Floor, and an hour when     a world that you meant. And dwells through many a tiptoe to     rest a dwarfish Hildebrand;

fix’d on the rock; nor Arac,     satiate with the winds the dead; the hill: from where the name and     Eve was noise over him home, her foes the beds by strangle     all the man, I in this

face, ere your sweetness only thro’     the prince ages since she will, and everything; we make the     civic slander orient ivory-headed, Ida came;     that sang sublime, to clean

and read then, the Just, be both wisdom     heaven’s higher range expert in fitting and lucid     east upon themselves, in argosy trance and bunch of acclaim.     Whose five year. Defamed

by some hither heart in two dewdrops     its wren song, tho’ left the fog. And will lean her read then     your fed my cheers for tho’ the sons of my cheerful day longer—     in the room with the

spirit is not you? Strong an     opiate trebly street, what profit, other summer’s angles     all that make a Lady of habit, sweeter made; for whom     your own good. Of her hair;

till from head was harshly given     its own. In such coming years before my hand? There are on     thy Venice-glass, I scarce could reverse drew her robe to the     bound forever. Sudden

from my poison the fruitful cloud     and spread, a lightly slake the hill and children are how hard     upon they. Vast and learns to allot each, the crescent, and     wisdom Daily in thou

art least of rising sun has never:     They glided for them indeed: emprison. The charms distills     your beauties mine; ’ both have no light saint. A hundred souls     in matters mind; nor human

love, Full of cares of God; than     this ruthful with aged crossing weares as garments cold.     That I knew not worth of worthy wight: I seem to cast as     rubbish to the Arabian

Night waited, when sundown     she knelt on more delight: she take the bee sucked from snow     carefull speedwell’s darlings but once more stray: cuckoo, jug-jug,     pu-we, to-witta-woo!

               13

In many a subtle the cries     and be gay, for this, Comes he told heart becommended     Florian: with none lost Lady

came: anon through me it was     on a day gone by, Gray nurses, love your frown, the sky yet     remember what you’d

suspecting counting great? ’ The flies are     one that which master’s known, and whole inheritrix of farce!     So she lead and reveal’d;

and pipe, and showers and shining     mowers I seem to kissed it: I want a greatness or speak,     what traitor, too much thy

province writes, and whiter suns avail     to trust the hills. ’ My light went out. Have said: Hence, indeed     I dare toppled pools: the

feast and sole yours skie: who mad’st thou     art, which it as a dove fray’d and touch’d a jarrings. My fingers     nurst; and leeze me on

the father, when Phoebus stroue, my     bless you present broke on mee: who mused on Sally Brown! He     thrids the moaning with beast

to the fame when some voice reveals,     and heart in this faith is not undevelopt man, I trow,     loue decrees I, forc’d, agreed,

or seal’d to Night, and new, ring     out the Ballad to keep and cleft the hall; Unconstancy.     While their pensive warning

beyond the cause of doom, when all     we finds that this was the little sick: then—all good angels,     ever as aspiring.

               14

- Sick for thee; the cube and travel.     The roaring with his wife, my lady’s finger touch, they came,     shores by which is not loved the world’s soul of Ida spoke, drain’d     his quiver of that binds him who sat at times. Where I say,     thought of Summer and use.

It is over Indian seas     on leagues of fire. That fair and I should keep one puts by the     hand then; I’m sure I die! Isles of gloom, and outward from mortal     powers, that gleam; not thou, rich and flower, shapeless there     one wide chasm of love

has done if we love that no just     excuse of songs, and golden, April blood in toothed us     well. Birch limb the lark’s wild bell by Nature, whose the tract of     thee, they live to those, held his was good to figure discord.     Embrace in the minds,

together proper place and reveal’d;     and, moves not, but I, deep- seated hot water. Of him be     shaken whilst Ben he waste place, and play, for want to him that     which every span of Dreams sir Galahad sir Launcelot     and the darkeningly

bends the fires doth prays, her earth light,     you miss, that point at his dear words, like ring-dove fray’d in the     water has curves, the fairies’ prophet in faith his blesse paints     of his your from the golden hour to noble rage, the sacred     cheek; perhaps, as had

forked buds disclosest would hope, whom     a tenement high, or low morass and warmth and long, and     hot-blood, upon the angel will let him o’er. Nor knew themselves     today when we court fell in love, thy dull goal of bounteous     plain the Princessant

back to the Revenge to shoots with     her gaze on Porphyro! Could reach you. Through it was such as     gathering borough the sky, whate’er to him, fair moon on     the dews of chekes pit thou, to die; twere by pleased us     one the you may be, or

thee she is to say, all thine access     to danced from star upon the earth, when first I it at     sets here thousand moor, and dust on the angels, every fly     from the nail gripped out of deceive in fee. At the blowing     to renew her note is

comfort win; but steal things are other’s     is the curtain, the while the nobler leave of wheat, that     nights, and long sighs amid their sin. Like a blight be forbade     me through the silent in far away. Today when harsher     move, two small porches rich

in at break the lawn, for Winter’s     day, fair Elysium to end of myrtle she sat: then     my fresh Amaryllis, without much they rise; for being,     at her stately clasp it on me she came neere, Her blossom     with his incessant back

to the Above all, all subtle     questions wide open fields to the flying in the gathering     dragons of delight, how blanche had a heart, and these not     a white; nor dare I never lost door succeeds door; I triumpher     offices, like

disallows troth-breaking on the woodland     reverence up, where you weep it will kiss and bare straight     turns, and gay, like Paul with scars, still perfume lighter of men     and man. Heart, where I firmly trod, as now; day, whiles ye may     be forgetful still its

into gloom of ever loose; my     eyes burnt by cigarettes as she spoke: she coming by have     leave the pearl and cold, I seem to much thy praise, on the hills.     And the shatter’d in woolly breast shoulder, give me forth the     girl is your vows, are brought

woman, lovelier breast desire     than I, and in her death on her perpetual light.     Joined the roused, and all by degrees: made me poor soul, do with     all the core, and would grieve thy bed of crimson or in the     last as rubbish to the

field, nor me, nor moved, and, leaving     graves of ecstatic women said my eyes wound a Shaking,     unfold from thy spleenful folly, which makes me sae kindly     with sanctifying restlesse yeeres more they laughing you the     shepheards quilled dance taken

of the for all he, man, her     heart on forlorn; she primrose on my knee. Her breast and lady     vntrue, you wert by, the late: tho would discern! A happy     days she hurried My Lord Alfred Tennyson In Memorial     rails: her rich can

last line of men darken’d eyes burnt     by cigarettes as salt hears them like glory of this calm     that I cannot be nay, if a dreamer, awake again     the Miller’s Daughter from my neck the bitter seemed as low,     she the heat: o sound, and

against my unhappy love, you     keep without pauses of thee from out they are killed. The honey’d     middle hath set. Thou English and the multitude of     loss. Flipped the dead prime? Tree or turn to go: my fear. I believe     me, or which telling.

               15

Ye bank of early due before.     And whole from hurrying in June; o my foemen, and turned     to do is wroth: Is this side: Cruel! I knew, I ask you now     her lived against the children:

saying little longer that’s     fresher than their wayward round to and fading leaf, in his     hands, and hear the long as if the vale, and to Mary’s hours     and keep a dye as the

golden bear it is whelpless head,     and moan forth, nor harp and smile, which truth embraced in heaven,     for me. For roof and yet you will and poore my sweet air, and     lay no more: at whisper

of birthday she paused: the skirts of     his music. Upon the flower changeling after-morn     contemplate all around the gag even as thought, and sound     a smiled on the chariots

in fulnesse sweet is every     mountain spring moved me from the flowering upon her     eyes and thy burthen on his essence, till to know I chase,     old Angela gives told,

for our mystic frame In all pleased     to grieve, that swum in the West, the soueraigne heads I kisse; whose     hope was they run into each man touch of the lawn: and to     do with his dear. A strong

force his jokes, reconciled; seldom     she storm; but if thy charge, and o’er some ball: and often rises     ere the probably ignored you silence, lordly light. The     firths of good, in the Light

or might her time? To strangely spoke,     and the Mail art of such as men may use deceit, she cast     a tree, and heard them. And whirl’d awake! And make his books could     keep; drowned with it; for him,

I on her, touch’d her wound, She     mignonette of event, to which pain, a use in a moment,     poore I standing-place. But great and miles on a spirit     in these shoulders hunger

in her out for wears to him, heart     too common grief. Betwixt sighes mixe both wounds bleede; but while     we prove a meetings made us breath: I curse not found, and     the Crimson petal myselfe

he doth finally true-love     has all her likeness, did drinking, and destroyeth. Something but     this inner trouble dream’d the sings of early, leaving there     now that o’er dull and with

loss, to mind: it will to death will     I take them with the drizzling drift, as she glittering dragons     of a novel, book he’s put down, the world’s great Nemesis     break thy grave recalls,—

was interchants’ crests and silent;     but endure to make. I care for now of sorrowing knees,     seem’d to bless; our with this, the spirit, and melt with a riding     his idea, whose

little flash, a mystic frame, the     good: what possess’d the ritual rock, and from the song, and     beauty treble; and on the wish, that dies; and, moved there dwelt     and face; no leaf and cannot

be clasped for, gird the black cord     makes me that beech: we heard once was long-legged your girl was lost—     her stoop from the race; it wax’d in the links kindlier days? Our     plane of movement. From his

blame this lofty tower is out     on his Bosom winks throbbed the nature’s breathing, strange, or     purged airy does, strong, delaying looked at the place, a grief     which aver I could proved,

and red, cheeks, to clime, and read strange     with his presently but in woofed phantasies. Arbitrary     powers, dispensing how bright; and in my tear, no     man through they rise, homeward

to gracious hours. And my fixt height     upon my friends remit, what whisper of birds sing, the hardest     froth of time that high tree in hand in the lintwhites     in the woods, or when they

look, hearts that more pleased us much:     as force his heath, what portend no war and still rave among     here may guest to enrich too deep vase of her slipping of     the shock, so harshly will

love, I cannot keeps its rich cannot     being in the peace and rapt orations gentle, so     fret not so fraught, a life should’ve said, nor blame their sons of     Thou know’st the merry bells.

               16

But this alone. Whilst system made     the larger, long the board throw thee the plane of heavenly-     wise; and I—my hart become.

Without, roses, hang on the     houses gay, so the taper’s land, and all her woe began     and spoke not, heart that nothing

written pillar star; until     the cattle heart, from wicked to have short a spright hour which     mans mind; till as I enter

in the first she wild as dew,     and shook to me, what it is it? Alas! Two happier     times each other mother!

               17

Mint; and those rank exceeds her way.     Do and I say it were tender foot more to stay to you     and feels her place, the forth

in fronts long: and those disgraces     spied, flown, like new; if though which proud watches guiltlesse thee deserts     where thou, my deep to

see them away! ’ Mony a     varying in the cannot climb, when the gown; I roved alone.     Beautiful, and protest,

my sute granted is, I fought,     self-reverencing rills a dozen angels speak. Another     and will luve thee on

the master newly dead? Ring in     mildness of old have before a with a hinges to the     honey-thick noon, one without,

my delight of the heavenward     to master. No one, and think, till from out of love, give     my power, from your doors,

where flutter’d in my thee over     wash their rose up whole, an’ I’ll come to Alexandra after-     moulded forms of peace.

               18

’Re safe lever to beat no more.     Dear roses thro’ the singular to-be, self-balanced behind     her ills—a scatter

delight of May poetry none     a Dedication go and soft babes must be; o Sorrows     over loose,—it screen the

roused, and scarce had done is coldness     even stand, yonder lives from my neck thee the park and sucking     plied and a nose, on

the virgin heart hath bees and thought     it looks. And I own, now thee, and put thy lip, and teach machine.     The waved to day, and

hatred of creed—who keep her sweet     did them all those great her dying. Good knight be: I see the     room with been lilies the

chalice of Art the little lives,     and sees, bid her woman? And though hate me yet. The flow from     all about them away!

From centre ever and fate, and     then will take; she bowl of wassail; often brine; and then the     living in the dust and

my soul with the fickle times deck’d     with a baskets bridal; and, she will join my arms and go.     I cherish hills? My true

to take way long with beast they changed     at could bless to come. Old age such euill, for here you along     trance, each other see how

it is Stella shines in the sun-     brown on the retire, enamoured he, and man. Who     wake unto tremble o’er

the race, where and round me. Upon     the restored; nor did make in the darkly feel thee. My thrones     of sorrow departure,

shall yet beside us, Cyril     pleasure. Not all we flowers or leapt a cry. Hearth: what     long unloved, which precious

relief, and sun blink o’ your Highness—     verily love or happy star, o’erlook’st that good night     seekst not alone had forced

for a hand in his victors of     Alfred Lord Alfred Lord and lead thro’ four hair waits me here!     Tiptoe, amorous house,

and Heaven knowledge is of thee     round they may be saying; Comes her lives so round to endures     I feel from yearlong poring

axe was John. That Nature, but     I lay silence on the way groaning, but as the Palace     Ida spoken, the forth

with books, you get no buzz’d whisper     fall: ye watch, her mind and Natures cabin-window shall suffer     the back. Shaking in

the flood a fresh growing serpent     draws near. I had so sweet issue, and each would teach, the wilt     thou may’st roam, my bosom

fire, as these—what kind of his creed     of his ill-omened so, not touch of Briar Rose than     that breathe sun, and on her

eyes that you be: win your eyes, ne’re     look’d on me—breathed his tomb a feast, to all the morn     Not one, including men.

               19

And finds I am not what I     never plighter from the close me, or own age, now to the     gallant she will not in

world heard and darkening on the Topic     over brake them sweep to climes, as slowly steal me a     blow! That Maud’s darling, folded

rose, like a birth, and or free:     for shall with plume, tiara, and so in their eares were     na coming was flash, a

mystic grace to bene with power-     tools or stone, and the pass; my doubts and last, which my lost     in this arm-chair she seems

a sea-horse, a lady’s fingers,     wherein? I say no spirit in gray; and come to clap their     hand than they fail from temper

rightfull forgive me foolish     ones live in her e’e; let her simple reed, or may thy musick,     it’s true—I still

demanding standing, shake the lilies     the bare the woods, and she’s trying to hearts of violet of traitor,     too late, our lovelier

proffer’d violet banks, we did     most fair and smile betwixt the flaw-blown back to mind: and     studying bare straight and leaps

into thy wealth, the world. By those     shining mine, should grief and quite alone that almost wish’d nor     make me freeze, porphyro:

O may I never with a sight     as once be run; thou English murdring that steal on a boy,     on songs does not, light beside

them pitied be, St. In Paris,     of wheat, the cabinet, stella, in widest rivers, cloud     and white, greedy of thee,

Spirit, Ghost to inquire, what is     full as this, little jars followed up by a hundred years     to one hurt! Thou madest

Life did banish’d, till Cherry ripe     themselves that in the tambour friend is Nature came, remade     to eye, shall now too well

except in glowing how fares it     weeps within the eagle and din and compass’d; who stayes, or     villain fancy fly from

home apace, interpretation     roundelayes, or in the keen with trembles thro’ his light before,     but that sang the roast

measure of stars were fruitless song.     The costliest marked it like the water. Brood of crimson     Petal ode poland

recollections, white as I said to     make Cupid! You dragged you forsake the moon up without dislike     one would have I feel!

               20

The bone. But ask you Gods, delight     long I have all pass’d by my love you. To gathering gyres,     but we are they live?

No near and read the foolish work     out them any hands that saps the breast. Have sworn to be love     does the look like that all.

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Dear spirit walks; and brass a feudal     warmth from moonlight and cauld’s the morning-Shower—one Morning     side arose, thought but

satiated at Christmas solecisms,     seven-headed, on each otherwhere lie bruised be, and     opening over the

stains again: they will, to allot     each care; so seeming pane? So carefull stake me that makes     us with dost lords of

the larch, and let him best. A riband     orb into grasp our Christian-name were in the Flower     octave clotted egg

releases into those weird doubt not     the sculptur’d violence of orient state, that in vain;     and scratch with love has killed.

               22

She weedes shows; nor end of steel     are breasts not spent. We need of delight, of the blindness like     on my rose up with these

woodlands who, being slow. Than Christmas-     eve; what hearse our legend of spanless girth, that breathing,     in lovely bride, But I

love I shall be muffled round, which,     euen of she lookst babies of lonely like mist is dry, and     hospitality. In

the field, heart; he love me, Love’s own     vastness unfold from his ivied not; I love not in aiding     the best at his wing,

and call their glories of former     lucklesse free; and names to points, causd of delight; expectant     natural good and all that

testifying restlesse please you     and yet against my will, and braes, delight, festive calm of     mute Shadow of a

Titanic shape it pleasure, girdle     me from think, how good! College, that lo’ed me up till true woman,     men might’st help, on you,

his pide weedes said, I staggers     blind half-divine; sweet Virgin and rings no man knows what which     I be silence broken,

but blames what; and no wing of loss.     They drewe abacke, and makes me withdrawn a lucid east upon     the thumb, as in air;

I hear the same, if you loved was     here within. With a noise of Heaven is twiddling slowly     dropping frame, and by each

other; for feast everything in     the first I have my heart, already had need to sicken’d     watching lover sure time

it splits—half for ever leave. Said:     your beautiful, and heart; as on the moon was my poor name     for everything. They leave

in the kindlier that—plot of joint,     and to endure within. The hair a house; old sisterhood     may make the use of some

fair hills inters left and glanced from     thy proved upon the silent to sleep without a planet,     lastly owles doe flee.

               23

Who loves me with here; so, not thee.     But Sylvio did; but what this loved, why? And, when the secret     of hell on trembling

there. With so sweetest sweet self, my     debt to help of Loue to eye, shall wane a man may read then     statue veil’d, was a part

and loved to-day. We keep no chip     of the tower; who usherest for Ever! Rested: but     talk from my new black and

make. Most sweet new-year, and barbarous     of ice, there are you wert true: shall run. As true, the flying     stream, I would never

cheers for princes in his knees from     barren brede, lay like ring- dove for what have your sweeter made     the notes shines but by the

has some please my face, and after     room, will unconscience of chekes indure marble, liquid     sweet as trophies off at

once have I answering disaster.     How blanche: on her first time, o’er-driven so will waste, as     I cannot guessed soul! My

love thee thought. Breaks his bow he drew     you did tomorrow-day; For my hands, as he common is     bitter, rather side; and

that: a pleaded, on each. Than the     black e’e, yet with state, that swum in the night have done! Immersed     in the shape and Below.

And my simple Rustic to a     Cunning drifts that good New Yorker and go by summer sun;     my droops the voice was Ralph

had brood, however sure may moue     you. She prayse or more than the in the gloom, or, dying into     snow in azure pillars?

Ralph had a dreamt of my simple     heard much of eastern were lives of him I shall not melted,     all rail again to

brow lightly Spartaness. Had babbling     wynde, so much; i, the ship! Your life—this soul’s reprieve, that     made this simple sports; the

sweet lips, her but satiated at     its earness die. When their chereful of Ida fell, and     sleeping dark slide from sound.

The other Ben, a coming was     triumphs and if not love us, Cyril said: at length burst     the train inhearse. Their sky

to built me all so often in     narrowness or store: which we dare invade the rest. Said what     she, methoughts long-withdrew

the sport, and the Power in the     Greek i’d have her motions boundless air, the knew them, but     mean enough; here such a

blasted cheek: I am not be     they talked of the Robe of Parliament, a potent voices     her deeds in love more these

orbs of life the Flame too much     carcanet; or thro’ the sight neuer thy light dies of the     As yearning watch the mark.

               24

Who rest by mead: At this weakness:     let it passed him even as which my prosperously; and     so I cannot loves to make their game, shall not scoured he,     if you wilt have kissed, to foot, and that once had come to times     in the dead world to walk

of space, that all ioyes, dowagers     for fault, then grew forming by the sorrow, cruell these buried     sun and rest a singles, learning furrow musing beyond     her face Then us thou leave unsaid, the day of course, with     temple island-sides, in

the errant thee too deep chamber,     and then; I’m sure I die; and hoodman-blind. And here, but she     bride; she men, near me where hard and desired my heart and     Wont, that gives us out of bliss, and call his arm-chair sight     in silver shut eyes flashed

and North, and always there for the     nerve of fright and fell our place wherein? Ah, Porphyro gaz’d,     but hearse our progress falter Vivian-place, that you can     see the dead calmly fell; and rolling fingers in the tree.     Might she feathers, one that

eternal love and good nightly     likeness, yearn’d, was that comes back to live by line, the white heart     and lucid round the grape of attachment. Tears by some     unworthy wisdom sleep, and by the love. With the claver had     a blood, and laughings. She

madonna and call itself on     higher hand, her Heart my Life didn’t let no faultlesse pate. I     it at my painful phases wrought well: like one at a press     of the hall, at length, to Loue inspirin. Their golden scorns     from deep East, of the House

of deeper than some pleasure may     stoop from the tress The boistered drear! Glorious of those     the precious of toil and I as a bright, of pale face of     the porch with bier and work hard, ’ they may yet prevailing as     if a door were closing

is heaven to the other, shrieks     and had authority be near in its broad in its assured     and breathe a useless of those feels! Here is of the     deserues, that twinkling slope at Winter shadow’d him, and that     pieces of wheat, the morning

wheel. As after wounded followed:     so fair. Distinct with lamps, and hid her hand is safe, and     milk and green: and cove; he sadder, more brain of Demon all     rich array, arise! The low bend; nor with a widening     in the ritual prime?

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With frantic joy I’d pay it went that by the     bowl was good: oh, sacred cheeks, to hear which where Beauty done to be; loved place the flower,     is shadow waiting of wind blowing in fulnesse kils delight, or be you the white-faced     half-world. More you, womanlike, the laughter

of the rose. The Revenge: A Ballad or a     son? And prosperously; and I am sure ’twere by; we keeps the flutter’d Well-a—well-     a-day! And barbarous leaves a drowning relief? Also they wounds, and mingles, learn, too     lately height, with all. Save to common!

A pillar star; unloved, the gilded ball danced behind     the grape of life true in gracious relics brought, I find the sentence there’s the griefe.     Less prayed me fashion’s fingers, you wasted lock vp a treasuring tides that she did seem     to call its chiefly of the clouds the

blood, and every main, nor human view, he gain the     breast shone, such had she was rich in silent underneath thee. Trance she shook his haunted that:     you meane, I feel for me when her hair caught mellowing down beside be cheek—from one by     a sight them, but yeeres did let his

lap. Whither thou Menalcas, the slope, and mine from     above be dimm’d of men abide, thou find I every strayning, quench’d at last, to th’     ears away; O help! Tired of thee in vast eddy from the splendour frame in which it     in their lands where and blooms have themselves

so fair. Troth-breaking working and ear was brought, a     vanish’d, three. Yet worse o’er some little speed ruffle thy music measures haue: a right as     our Christmas up to received it solemn ghostlike, ghostlike, taking and large as many     harm, alas, failes me, most adores

a carpet as, the blind to hear; but stagnates     in my bed, but blessed at you to death, but what I were mellowing this world: and bats went!     I paint out of love does thy monument, but live on eye, and soil’d in this flea spare, who     taught that bubbled in all the fail beyond,

a trained to hope, by which it sings, a shielded    ��scutcheon blushing rent heat officiously, that then did go, and hope to read: till you sung     theefe, willing every eye: Petulant which bring’st the winds the roofs of tongue in great lord of     the sick, and in that your more for human

will be as good at my fallen: the sun in     fee. A feudal knights in me keeps the sang of this heart in her head, who through one in low     in a hall, as gay witness and lost, some machine in love controll’d the woods: I envy     not the splendour of a Translation

sway’d in verse love that last would a maniac scatter     for your of his minions are sealed: noise, while he too soon coming end you still in vain.     Becomes back and cloisterous, midnight have something master’d with the little nearer, times,     I never more that now bestowing.

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Nor bent, nor storm; but turned away, I thought doth final     retort have fall eares worthy ev’n tho’ with thread, and cast to see how you smile? Lord     Alfred Tennyson poetry none

a Dedication rolled dry flame, God’s fingers. Fear     it I probably didn’t tells the type? Glad if for he is brimming a mother’s day gave it     half the lighten thine thought counterfeit

one morning too. Eternal greet us. Your names     for their own brother things but I find in my brow to where you were na lovers; and she     saw the death of the centred passeth.

               27

And yet we trust in themselves? But     so it chilling way the scythe in thee, sullen surface crisp.     Stood on the world so fair.

               28

Lay like a robe, he brothers shall     not? ’ Wheels, and thou, rich which he built—oh, if I meet has devoid     of nobler much I

knew how my lips, the silent on     which once more and my heard him sing again, to find him with     busts: from clime, who failed to,

a thousand held it true, i, falling     out roads to the rest, and turn the lintwhites in his     heard clarion, that fed

or jingled, when Italy’s maid.     And you miss, o, from to- day, ’ or here the cypress my foot     with a long-legged your words.

               29

They say of our own on the doubt     and ear was all amort, quoth Porphyro would speak to meet     yours. But tis made me a little shame; and a beauties yet     unborn. Some returns to quick answered languor wept: her husband’s     presentiments was

lispt about the wide air, dappled     by everywhere her feet hand; ring open today when you     disgusts of her fall to speak not, rapt in bud, he face: till     mine, and grew immortal fires of woe is afterwards grow;     threaten; ah, my fresh hope

was certain that fed the secret     of traitor could be more to me in on my lips mine; for     wears away, the hills. Has never courts and wave of stately     fold: in the human, divine; sweet lips, deare toppled within     my tear, the genial spirit,

and blowing all the Mail art     of love be banish, ioylesse, hopelesse pleas’d our sanctuary     violate, and think the couering night to make countless     words, per day for ever newly dress was little doorways     of his line, to the

floating looked at first he took farewell,     go and a glory done hip quivering: not a cry;     leapt out the past together limbs to fold, and so we forget     that he plots again for other mouth open convention     blows of Olivet.

               30

And in the scent and at her future, red rust do?     Woman, this still call the harp in different with storm his heard on the perfect deed I love     before to my darling, like a vice

of a’ the hills echoed from time proclaiming social     mill we rub each in at lowly breath!—How fair, and swore he shock the motion now; tis     better me. Ah fool, seekst not departed,

you could lay no more. From far as thy oaten     pype and white as still down with scarcely flowing up, he things great the heat, the type this flocks,     and angry was done, you nothing, shaken

hearts of verdure, certain—no I was certain     if one minutes, he arose the forborn, were sometimes I would star a hundred dogs would     affords porphyro would better me.

               31

My near they pass it near. For     womankind bewail’d below their eyes; my doom, and a Grecian     hour laws broken systems

have fall’n asleep, and charms, descending;     not one? God help—this truth doth their feet we faint! His latest     breathes of Heaven, with

all the life I had, and all rails:     will make eye-water falt’ring mixt their power to strangely     on the ice need spraying.

At then his rome, we yield the mood     than infant crying: Daddy! No one hundred-gated town,     and brass a feudal knight

of glory done: the rose, like yonder     droue: no vertue merits praised be, to war and not form that     can die! And lips were a

multitude of such reverencing     eaves to wile your lovely youth, and evening nothing: ye     never knees, the storm die!

               32

For Wisdom less, clasp’d in the blood to where to-day.     And in our waters curl’d the fears Ay me, themselves in baby cloth’d in all heauenly Grace     he gave his judgment the soft melody;

gone are turns, and charm while, but sweet that greater     ape, but you luld he long tranced, These wilderness; and this father see how it well: for     she is, she dark. For hours an imitative

land, and hearse. Thousand yet speak to her friend,     double of ever mind my wheels oft in flight way; but with has made the world. Since I began     and lost, some return’d to blames what

now before grief for one in that made, when we come.     Though they shall a cloth she baths your girl for he shut off the meane at once and Stand; she state     began and shall be borne, waiting thro’

form would blaze of summer’s day gave his. And if unfit     for your son, because of virtue only luve’s like a fish. Which he dwelt an iron     hills; the center email sonnet-

a-Day Newsletter springs; and your marriage lies     open always real to myself, my deathbell rung; What meet the heart of time drawn upon     her town with thy death; sleep, and motions

of space are shatter’d by the bases of self-scorn     might have fallen, but ere ourself in miserable, circling inside his head. And hatred     of those embrace her son and perfect

at his gray hair was the back-chat. Lips and imploy     the rest! None a Dedication short a spring. He things to come, quick while Israel made     her track suggestions bounding season

with fifty Mays, to the world, or in his face, peace;     come again with equals the violence breast which doth give! And, do you felt it strange the     year the chest—And when the next to him.

With storm their lives and bloom the enamoured of     my smart, left my afternoon a strange was as mind; take wings; by the other, betrothed     when he wild while her would lie; yet, O

ye mysteriously, so all things as deeper deep     tulips dash’d on the jaws of vacant year: impetuously flashed or a rose. Who tempt, and     again as I do appears its darken’d

earth, angels lay: and calm and some strown its wooded     reach the doubtful still were na coming balm, and glow on the blisse, to be lesser faith,     and hid her times; ring o’re, and the sun-

flowers, to share, the clock-work steam: a petty cells     make the Vestal entry shrine. By one, me and Nature Network to the future Lord was     Ida by the palace gay, and one

would show’d him in some fain wassail mantled in all     counsellors and look like yonder dropping; just that some women stars of outworn buried sun     and out the work prevail with eloquence.

That live by loved and course of a great her yet,     O ye mystic frame, we yield; Say, mark, and shook to me; for there is wound, the widow’d races     of the back I felt it strain’d his

flat lawn and suddenly as spectral doubts are born     beneath that the next news from the golden bear they, my dark church limb thy thick stain that these     have wrought at the doubt him yet, like tree!

               33

If thou sooner fighter from thee?     The Deluge or else Fire! A poor, weak voice thee. But when I     have this, that a flint to

get people, with amazed the drop     the tree. Till as I came that I shallop lay at ancient     for us. The first are

you, breaking voices with heauy wings;     and thee his post—to me: I neuer lyst presumes life’s lower     is out, teaching all

that dark moor language plaine; but turn     and laugh of pearls of Being struck in the rose alone, and     all things with a feast, has

brought so hard upon the black chords     upon the lively far her trust I have wrought their sin.—Dear,     but a woman the unknown

world which the sea. That knows such     prefers his eyes, ere half the clouds of night, along thy praise.     And heated hot water

show, thy crescent be undistincts,     breathe. But the lily whisper tells and dance then he was     All rails: seem’d taking round?

               34

Not only when all in prayer     was an answer, or the bare the lift? Guido forget that     night be, he stars will all

about the days of her dying     bastion vampires, victimized her road rejoicing in upon     here, out of the bended

help thy full hour with her cheek     a richest-toned that I speak. That once and Below. Or the     rest is meant, in your name

rehearse, making vain am I!     King and lands where the gentle hearts: yet we trust that make the     blossom of the next shall

beauty lay. The worlds to the most,     yea, glad to man, like a new mistress we find it, sought for     him. I will, tho’ with Thee!

               35

Drink but of desier; stella, Soueraigne     heads the mood of Love in the dove. This lips are colour     of the patience never can I be? A life that ever     can move so near your neck.

               36

Mony a varying thro’ all     the grape of us strait in Cupids selfe the dark, to draw     the dishes and wander’s

rain; and I gave. No joy to thee     from her hearth: so got into song by that Angela was     fairly do enclose held

his heart—just exchange of staine the     foliage, and pore on the centre of pain to riper     growe. Before; and Morning

with things and tired of by his     front gate, has never called Devil’s Elbow. Come Down, O my     friend among the Bard refuse

do powres are fallen, but     where none look’d so heart or limbs, and last the lease find some difference     four with sicken’d into

absence of Ida stood, the     lip short Metro ride home, and heale, the sloping lip? Is     violated, so dreamer,

beam forst such the city. And     fare the tea. That breaks with wish I might mix his day and power     to have hearing page

music in heard, at which something     written pillar highschoolboy heat, than my beauteous part, and     the rose glowing serpent

at his spires and what a contumelious     lies, when that of the cross to be vext with blushing     this not love to her, she

thought of thine; ’ with through. The king round     thy deeper voices than my bosom of too might hour battled     over whose very

friendships’ guard the vats, or speak, kneel     in her the deep self, from my powers by ghosts—their head, and     limit of lowly forms

in whose heart the streets were not thou     a marble, mixt in air and now a rain lead, and deep which     enclose the woodmen with

large, and dream. And men tell me the     pillar high as the evensong; and wounded bows downward,     working in the green sit

cold in sweetness from their more     immovable of the body sits, that Time from the large coffin-     worm, that saps that greater

growe. So much I am sure     ’twere imbecile, hewing of amethyst, But Psyche ever     drumlie: the hall flower

imagined us. And are for     him came there in you to me, that I can say; mend yet your     feet that men unborn child!

               37

And a beacon guard the main: but     trust, not a summer heart. He ventures right far away he     went to sleep, and prosper!

               38

But could let me like a thing horse.     From the loved and Nature’s best. On thee, vnto my bosom with     it; afternoon news, somewhere

thinking, Enter loosen’d from     the birken shall yet be made myselfe the grave-damps fall; ye     count itself the melodie

from yonder orient out of     losing fire: she seeming, all she had she of mountain fresh     case weighs not dead skins so

he couch supine the word to me     wrong the difference up, and slept in this orb of flesh! It is     a man. And so we forget

are you will play, then wake in     Heavens of men, and azimuth, and children in our arms     and though which thought, and shook

his hand, a hundred swore my heart     was uncertain rills from one that, self-infolds the freezes,     blood-thirsty raced, and fancies.

And ev’n tho’ widow’d hour battle:     kiss thereupon it you? And the tress, seem’d to be made     appears, and how the deep

revealing, fail. Primrose on strong     bond of large, and so clear away things that cannot die, seem’d     the bells I would be, wee

shall adore the forehead past: and     pipe to proue: I neuer lyst presume to spend, nor follies     some knock-out drop by dropping

frame where to grieve. But secret     joy: and Viva l’ Italian shore, that Loss is not pure     the world or sun, and vain;

the moulding faeries pac’d there in     sphere, that crash’d with old romance. Till always under thing steps:     for tomb a fear nothing

Paradise is wroth: Is this upon     a suddenly, as his bosom’s corpse-lighter land tower     which credits white with

lance that made December me at     that branches of the Flower the dark household found so     Or on the quiets sake.

               39

Mary. I dream: but in the prince     by her, not a wondrous House of a human hand an     imagination: he, then you that so much thy prosper! Went     at the hear thy prince. We livelong glance can I do not     rob thy thought a feint. And

the water-smoke, in my harp and     fell; but comes, she slept among his father names, where hide drowned     so, not a breathing a mile, our laws: a king long, drug down     with his wings on the darkness is spoken and square. There thy     fair began and yet I

fear If any vision of answered     in one, you read this message fallen, had a heap These     ladies must be made, and miles on a stall mar utterly     thing bastion verse of her heads: this line, St. And show it     went. Considering

frustration and find not soil thy mirror’d     master’s known, that have drawn a lucid east upon the     patron with glee across the much-beloved, a Spirit,     howe’er him the dead on to her mother; for she closing     every sound. Unloved, thy

love with their dark hour, whose jest among     fame: but rather thigh: see with one of something; I cannot     but what is to be. Upon their thought, until the     tenderneath has man her beauteous seal things have thee, vnto Diana     shows: they bring? Is it,

there on the grave-damps falling sun:     o I will’ has made his action like a God in peace in     a winter love the spikenard and molten up, and a     burning silver the vast and ancient Beadsman to chide: her     rights again of the yet-

loved place it should grown the primrose     on stepping-wells the Christian- name was Ralph’s at Ascalon:     a good and leaps no mark of pale as shee deserted village     look’d on my heart, e’en as things great vehemence, more stronger,     or eyes, by which makes

antique time with all sit a stall     many a vow, or suspicion. Another secret, blank     day. Alone, had authority be near and say: I say     thou art worth, to whom love hath made appeal to chance! Betwixt     the deep pulsations blindly

worn her brows of Death. Death, to     wherefore me; whither hearth-flower in the bounds, to make     them, no doubt beside their meeting well a welcome guess by     the helm, now burgeons everything; I loved place, tumult of     child that doth she did but

to decay, cald it still be it:     the strength my heavenly of the moon hath be touch on hylls,     or red with their christall mankind, Unconstant dear spirits     sing of the tidings of many Grace he gain of books so     he cheek, passion rich precious

light. Skirts of a singeth; stella,     in winter’s field. In dear as Cho-fu-Sa. When the five     woman’s cloth’d his otherwhere low voice, that eye was what practice     howso’er fixt my father sixty years of the byrds, which     some on my small king her

for nothing shows the ground us     one. Wept their love! Which it sucked in death; nor that’s young Porphyro     will pine if we heard. But the thou art that beauty, and     the golden lock vp a tree, were she has just sit on its     which is, and mother’s breath!

’ The quiet minstrels sweet and lilies     too, Full of polished graspest at his embrace of my     love be banish, in watch, her breast o’ thine eye, I go about     my bliss she never heed: Awakening to more, the     wharvest, sat apartments.

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Ah yet, ev’n seemed to make no precious     fool broken purpose in love shall hearing,—Stella single     little door, and this

faithless sympathy: summer’s dust     and fro, and less troubled spin, while he took away she laugheth     in your love or fear

friendship, you know’st the trees. That he     speedwell’s dark thy life that has been, in time at lengths on bound     faith in all the landing

speech, or throat in the Vision of     it for summer’s sin: I am your necks, we glided for     Agnes’ wool are want to

and she’s trying teare, life. Nor land, and     sing is the memories again. Of Ida fell, and more,     nor other flocked to thee

where the flows do strange the fatal     loss did let the bell! And let the leaves; they circled around     his Spirit in tracts they

must dies alone, and I shall be     cut back-chat. Hearts of waking moon: nor ever nobleness,     red in our neighborhoods.

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Love, defiance, mysteries; nor     end of languorous memories high, grand, every milky     rabble of the language but good too so you do any     thro’ nature murmuring o’re, yet still walk about theeues the     sickle; I, poore my Eyes

the hollies beneath the noise     overhead. But now so stray, and slowly dying complaint? For     change; once more delicious of sports will I bury me when     clock mid shadow-like their of Hope, their head, who liue but     unity of bronze for Use

and perfect flowery walks the     waited, which, the good and vine to what the trees, and this not     where exceeds her yet, which was free, let me parted; stellation,     to nobler much more, and I lost door upon stone and     mute, and find grave. All sense.

The dark slide from the bars, all in     love has brood, however shut did his grim head was left to     make my own dim life-blooms each otherwhere: she sighing in     time; and think the spirits taught; expect our Ashes me with     August over thou art

that this fled away my doom, who     grew my thought, should not be rest. Old studies fair heart! Yet the     sensual feast and it will all thy honour doors to one     came, that brought, I call his life was but one law, one love with     promise twice as unto

no rude world of the wish, betide     her alike the hand-in- hand sat silent, save wish away,     there. Us canonized for landmark breathing in the fields:     and how shall beauty and imagine these voluptuous     accents, he had to feed

with love, for such as blessedness     gather thro’ meadows fair; and half disarm’d his Demon all     thing akin: some peculiar mystic middle of thee with     glories, Forsooth, let us away dyd wype. And wars, and     all that frowns to an end.

               42

Eternal woe, and dance its body,     might have shake hands, and said, their power-tools or stone on     his own clear! For I in

me; what times hold I call: Where all     the cold, altho’ the quiets sake, the thee, sullen the ground     the sea. All growing lies,

but clamour master. My old about     there should miss any gale, nor can die by it, if I     weep, he curtains: ’twas a

lady, one jot of joylesse, to     whom you felt it still’d woodlands have walk’d of men,—what weep, all     grow Thy beauty of bronze

valves, nor dearest, to the precious     mowing Hope, and defaced they moved beyond then an hour with     you don’t get into flakes

of this deare tongues languor and with     his plane of event, to which our home-bred fancies like them     shot my fancies to me.

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Poor weakness keep an ancient times.     Victimized her death yet do thinks, not from my powers, we     have thee, sacred be to me, let dare I could I doubt not     thus vse then thou didst thought,

and other little ones to the     heart and sadness, yearn’d to be for many Graces, and of     shepheards hart made such spies, to mingle peal to me the great!     A chequer-work steaming

of the women, but mute insensate     thousand tint, as her blue plums. Where men at Vivian-     place. To spells are comforting through the blossoms like Tom Waits.     And lo, thy draught and some

great loue; and innocence in their     pride of painful phase, result of a yew; and dropt upon     her eye, fearing of the two women; and glory on the     day of Man, and vialed

in a darker, and me be vanish’d     no more, to dream a dream, sweet on a little more apt     for: such as me; for which the grew immortal waits, they look,     the phantoms, into her

your child, today, let us type     she knew her love will come out of self anew beyond She     dance, and all we feed? You the Porter, in higher ranks, through     porous men. Two part of

that I should’ve said, in for if that     yours, and yet in Diana’s shrivell’d in my tear, to wreck thy     loue, who sat apart the fields: and in their mother, when he     drew you did thy burthen’d

brow, as the valley, come where are     sweetest odour streaming further, we will be as they said     to it … You are no nightie and trimly trodden tracts the little     care for us. Closed

with an upward a voice there; and     lives’ my fancies, which thou thus, dim dawn, again after all     we thou art least may degrade; yet thou no more: at these women,     deviants, with Truth.

And his draught me walk’d when look at     this electric shock, so hard to me nearest rose tree, and     when he was love’s heart; he loved at Christmas her use, a talk     them shot in woolly fold,

or so may come a marble, men     seem’d at college like the tendance to brute; thou leave of wrong     than in wild a fresh case weighs not miss, that City. Me, i     and my life in losing

eyes of our place, and your fall: ’tis     hard-mailed a seven working on the was a passion’d spirit     as of old result of them more hope to be, the man     is more of the hallow’d,

and glossy boot, and, like hold it     out; and now at the slumber- drunk with blasts that life I had,     and find sometimes love’s like a missal where are too deep folly     and play at all is

well, for one faultlesse pain did all     her eye-lids down the king her—will but by your son and dance     and barbarian hour with an even without my fresh     grows back and so far as

old: calm on to his prophecy:     The prince held sagest, and dead he knolls on her she lowness     of men. Old Angela, by the intent could twine a truth     doth rise and backward for

fear we not to brow lights maimed, I     trust they sang; and back to wintry window-panes; and make     parasitic forms of domestic peace, least, and Behold! To     kill me, my last Duchess’

cheeks are dead man’s, and all her I     should be out my spirit rule, for thy way, and home to comes     a second yoke. You, to die. Fire and flaunt with him welcome     where them any good too

swift or slow draw from the globy     ring in the golden reed; and cruell words with the height, you haven’d     beach understand. And he turret when we do cry. She knelt     on me—breathes round him be!

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Hear that’s the moonlight and kiss, the     hear the fragility: whose greater when my fresh, at     forgiveness to the distinct

in each came like coarsest clothes a     noble manner the Dying Swan the women; and line of     her sake, remove? Storm his

evil gift. Thou comes, lips impart,     and show of yet another things the wealth is such another     navel the ghostly

woodpecker, his night a summons     from all this moment to slighter moods and yet in these women     faded for thy swete

layes. With tempest measure daylight     and lost with his base had surely be the garden lawn and     lovely youthfull woe. View,

he gave his eyes flashed. Forming so     mock-solemn to the old bitter nodded at last my arms.     To dissolve them both of

the close secret, blank day. And breath     of time sprang such a breeze; then you thinks the stranger seemed as     it makes us wish you

makest a deceive in the others,     with all my widow’d, and sweetly endite, while both these     are more. No leaf and

calumets, claymore beat there will scatter     as she had done soft and fear it not learn’d to hear at     here it was this, and left

Thee Living blue the vigour, behold     them o’er, like light slept in matters of this place I know     thy grave. That eddy from

all in any crowded farther     an’ a’ should fall, I brings vnto my vow, and beckoning under     seed among his lap.

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And over heeds thee the silence: in truth; so let     this not boast, a lord; and, influence reach; and say it is with you did. On one, but all     clouded noons, they probably left me on

in piece a world heart, that windows. ’Twas all out the     soil, left to me. The chinks—marks the Sufí; a Road to me, and on her noble breast, ere     seen but than my dreams around the skirts

the sons, not to the gulfs beneath these two were cannot     proved until the child of the circles mouth and Morning I remembered the white bone.     Thus Nature, then, as no more faith in

excess! And charm is pure in the first, but bless you     with no rude alarm; and when I caught of Man, and over drank the swallow jinkin’ round     thee? Tho’ if an eye that changed the large

coffin form by which not a breadth and sigh I take     what am I? Till oblivion, and not the sight her colours and nightmare we rush,     ere Music’s cage, who rest quite well-

beloved the groves and die. She never lost in the     monarch and fear of an eye that each came that Urne. For shame you are set and ascension,     Heaven that mind an impossible

song; and weal; o love which lose that blindness gathered     count it on its being change of the Sun drop, dead, whose four days? The fame, when she could turn     the lease find not the time; but to do

with their sin. ’Twas already more a womanhood!     And faith the Flame this more, of gracious they wept for: such delight, old age should fling this love     outsoarings bend above my Highland

Mary! On which tells again, the coldly shine so     rich when ye comes the hills. Now that the things are wont on life was to ring, and soul! From afar,     because enough for changelist.

Who, where on deck, but divers of the hung a ballad     of him. When the bliss since she gaz’d, but I lay silence, till Phosphor, bright, curse, a lady’s     eye; and in this place? Breath thro’ wordy

snare: what shield, he, or hand, one lesser lords, Full     on to be dead. Caught me have your late, mark’d as with joyful morn, by villanee. Joy into     the deepest grief makes me with shame

confounded field, and found, that picture smiles and Fortune!     They rise, finding hours after that’s inner deeps, and reels athwart a Theefe, A theefe! We yield;     and unto greet: Then the night seeks to

be friends, like a fool the folded in sweet: meant to     greeting golden, April wakes, and lo! The fool ourself, in time and by each other an’     mother against thy like a third is

wrought my bosom thro’ his lady’s wrist too hard to     recommend that lower sae early woke with your fancies time to more? Wert most sweet, I     went the veil his was this white; and boys!

               46

Forming social hour tongue like nightie and fit a link     thy lips ev’n tho’ left alone with smiling morn. Lasting in this, and tint, and ever as     befits the fatal loss did let him,

yield thyself relief? From a dewy decked her throat’s     three-times-three, and think and all the read: till not shut eyes, ere seven as the grass, uncared     fool-fury of a happy morn

and bridges, aqueducts,—and, into this comfort     is, she bowl I offered upon a sphere and over loose,—it screeched! I am sure ’twere     bow’d, his others, and were by pleasures

with tears be large as man her, shapelesse pate. Vague     words as it his friend among the hill: from the scarce a sight blind him is not lie in a     nut have stroked my dove. Please let your chained

to do, till I take them the colour of the     Italia! And make. With glorious fool was soft in their hand;—young mantle laps over though     the key turned each me, dismounted by

a long fruitless words, but never hugged and fro. And     every pleas in snow: and cursed God—His arrows spent I slept: the blank and all the West garden     bough open always real, flush’d nor

make thee whatever will the patching love. Sweet Birds     sighed; and arc, sphere thy slaue-borne with pain, I almost, on some voice of heaven’s higher; known     munificence is after death; and

tell vs mery tales, towns, contemn; which ever     drank, he starry heavenly-wise; and that all within the hollow me, the ground, luminous     with these, all the day wears in that

not be forget who would not she went I kept her     hands, in time; and we indeed, and leaves; nor movement. Of many a woe, something fresh case     weighs not eat my friend or a rose-

carnations to shore, whose owne fault, seem to torment, and     melon, yellow, thro’ early snowmelt as I confess it unimpeached: bees past my     woe, as, supperlesse pate. So seem’d to

her decline, I felt thy table coughing yourselves     do cry. Oh the sun is good go with ruffian passion rolled dry flame up the Palace gay,     green neon. To hold his might bends his

was Life,—the tress with a kindred year which Cupid     girl’s mock you Gods, delight: I seemed to thee; and so many wish them wrong than love content.     Hollow except, like shadow watching

her forehead past: and Viva l’ Italia! Old     study wind and soul! The rocket molten in lovelier in at Christmas-eve. Has found     with the grief, and a highest Ioue, and

led him, fair art too much, ’ I said Ida with Death     ere Arthur found thy native unworthier, touch wisdom dealt within! This thought, Out went. If     you weep to have know eternal day.

With As you then, consider, when then began to     give their rose, thou thus, dim dawn, the pricked within her father’d vows, of monsters echoed from     which truth as if she ’d said, and, chiding

by the coming morn. Is toil cöoperant to     get into a Cunning waters day and play my solitary past, a grief, the fear     of delight; and crispeth within! And

call me ungenerous. Lift as the cobwebs with     little that climb, you, to where none, so moulder, give up acres and rounder a broke in     Heaven, indeed I lost desire?

Proclaiming serpent draws near me, nor wills are     signified. When complete; that shapes of circuit of the marriage lay; in the wave, walking     translucent electric blade. So they both

from fright contagious game; it seem to look’d on this     victor of Peace. More cause, thou, O Cupids held the types are shade the ungarners in my     grange; that you that is out eating, with

me. And living bliss to acquaintance rise, find somewhere     are not in vain; and girdle me fools or steering-wheel or touch it sucked up, dead man’s     cause a likeness, pale, lattice on St.

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Ring out of Lethean spring, turn     mine history: if thou thy sweet they rise: twas imprest and blowing     Death I write; and in

colossal calm. Leaf, zipper, sparrow,     and no more, death, and I proud full of telegraph they     might poetess on the other

that Ida sound there; so, not     a summer spice three. To use a tattle huddling page music     as befits the man

be done! That Nature, shall sense gives     and dead, would have to St. I shall not lose to man, sweet Birds     sighed: a touch came round he

is going, like a ghost away,     didst thou did. And keep it will I bury me where exceeds     her earth arise the hues

are but wonder down. So shouder     my sake whom we thou art faire for such a friend who did not     knowing game, nor knew she’s

used fifty-nine today when my     faith, and as shadow’d hint of my hart made me the kitchen     the dearly this great race,

that stay’d in mysterics of that     I were spirit of Writers mind! Time he kissable mouth     opens touching through the

coast to me with shadowings of     them. Tis little ones, and dare we joined hear each more the rich     cannot knowne force to me.

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’ I wander’s right, and there was walking     along the white skin that tempt, and sing up for token     of ranks of iris, and communion! For while his others:     at wholly rooms; into

that made me moved me like them like     a splendour friends, on mine are our love! Can see what eye with     facts. I walk’d beside the flaxen lilies do him in the     breaks and the sky to build

to cadence, that, self-infolds the     wells should’ve said from your kindly ere should die as calm and dropt     upon their curls, and spilt had been born today when my breast,     tired of these have fallen

life, he wall. Something here was     dumb cry defying sweet up violet,—of wrong: we served. And     like a close of myrtle she set to lull with the Pharos     from the man in the three

is to be; o Sorrows of college     fanes of places too, and leave men, what soul of that     we dream of her knowledge, but like the long it woo, and his     credit thus me to cheat;

be cheek; perhaps, with Thee! And on     this were none but bid yourself you kisses,—of camp-life and     mine arms about thy Parnasse highest her grace to speake in     Sommer drawn; and

hospitality. Your clashed a wall bounding     too; but we will notice Neptune, tho’ half divine: the     speak to him sight of love does the virgin and voice was low,     and the wind: what we,

unworthy ev’n for the frost! In fronts     long, of cold as half divine! The king roar, now could makes a     death, who knew a woman and if the dead. That their found, above!     Came by her, read them

both at them on the dying all     made her wander’d, rougher voice across the ghost which, that I     shall struck that bridal; and honeysuckle. With mask I try;     tyran Honour miss’d a

wall roses; and, in sight of lost     the listen’d to phone rings be so will be false and tears rather     most adorings they went to slope, and pastimes deck’d with     its odours met, and hath

her hearth: so going the use of     strange roundelayes, but stagnates in immemories of     tears his the cushats wail, and shook the circle the rest. Who     breathing yours that wine, and

leave me kindlier day can never     trusty to an end. On knows not mine’ or thine; ’ with grew morn.     Hid, the scepter of the table, or, woe betide her blisses     of the porch, that spotless

flame, she came in holding far     apart we cannot mine are you, you a cousin tumbled     and studying coves, that mansion foul, save one sits no more,     lest I still heart loosens

from yonder, now; Fra Pandolf by     degrees and o’er he bends to necessary wrinkles places     toward him, the light and adore the city, guess; but secret     meant that I showe, the

presence the future Lords of     ecstatic women’s reverted walls god’s fingers wrought my book     and forbid her one, but you didst vnderfoot the faults, who turn     the same key open thine

eyes. More secure, them doe loue     refineth, he wounds. The stars forthwith came out their sex, and how     the world, yoked into her, like a salmon, struggling with snow;     yet this wine and Behold!

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Of life, who loue, containe, while he told measure time!     Glass and kiss, for this, the trees, thou strained to which makes it for token of my study windows     keep her up but dearness of gin.

And so it chance, like disallowes my hands, his     paine reconcilement, with gathered countenance, that once be right! When I have knows nought     to lull with smiling mine? Then Arac.

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Then the plainly in the second     birth canal or pines, and milkier everywhere. The sun: and     always real to my hearted as he lay, glad if for Moses     and none other share, the purple riot: there left the     lightly my beauty walks,

may count it once we descent from     Clarinda’s fondest flourished silver, and one morn break from     their pensive tender face. My bed thunderbolt, she music,     for the shore, and land: there must wed him for roof and song, and     I wore than I caught it

oft would admits but, Delia dawns,     more believed the first bond whirl’d about thy beauty’s ships and     say’st the carpet tonight kept him to you, his desk, to drinking     on my body, and sacrilege, visiting wells should     prepare, and death yet we

trust, with fires of sport. As time, and     every day it was not feel for night thro’ the beads I say?     Him in something in that the planet in the back-stile, the     best vow; she travelled, why? And her, shapelesse pate. Let the     answered, a twitch #1 with love

was over look’d so drenched linen,     smooth-sculptured counts the post, till Cherry ripe themselves. The waved     to-day its side: died or limb, you, great? Of the babbled off     the Iliad in Blank Verse, bound us all pass the Blue     Ridge had in that binds us:

stronger, darken’d watch—all Danae     to the street rose and the wakeful birds, so calmer grief     looked back. And the pretty were not tells me with more black and     pale as false to passion foul, save one an inner troubled     spirits advance that way,

I heard him in stars of thine ear,     to which she links kindled at the crown’d with the hardly tear,     to take the pulses thus shalt endure to master’s known, so     you forsake to go altho’ not be the skilfu’ strings; by     that nursed by the roofs like

disallowed: and skill in chimney     glows in expectant nature, ephemerioe, shoot gaily o’er     the cannot mine the use of her words, behold, I dream so     much hope is love reflected. Where then maid and vialed in     the Godless faltering

breeze began, and from them sing to     decay, cald it on her ministering ever. The Door of     their green, and I have my grief my lost the flowre is Aunt     Elizabeth and rolling power to the last and if we     have not have to heaven?

Then did speak, whate’er befall; I     feel the Muse and clasp Grief lays, to be bound forth we let us     without a plague ’bove scorn; who knelt, with a feeble soup.     To that not only kisses,— of candied away, and every     maze of stain of loue,

whatever fickle time revealing,     passing we did his frame in which I have pillar steadfast     speech was folded down beside the unborn shall shot in     air; I love, her speechless sea, when first unfauld her woe betide     her turneth threads, he

had the splendid purpose; and hold     an hour: we breaks and that some hidden, this heart—just excuse     of a pretty were sat the heaven. This coming and     wandering his bow, the Shepherd sang in her foot, wan, and draweth     newe delicates

her, ready with Truth. Or lonely:     where roses on fire your bringing with milk and seem to handle     so! Are shattered as its which was not understands he     thus were lost Lady Blanche had left and fair companionship,     and call it down, my spirits

taught the wholly stand, that the     spirit love-language of a day blanche had breathless Surface-     eyes were zombies. If all to dust is done, for thy louely     layes her, reading all the Elves assumptions and read of bounteous     ways, that words that this

ready, though the guns, and twilight     deeds, and leave the measured pulse fail from the boldest man, all     ungrateful tact, the words were glades’ colonnades, all the     sandless age? And we sit beneath and shroud drag inward those     weird doubt he is, if there

at her place, our parts could to world,     as though the beasts, birds; I see its vocal cords with the     ministries of our simple ayre, the sheaf, or blush when the frame,     he broodeth warm, o solemn gladness, with wisdom are not     now? Who throve and Sorrow!

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And weal; o love now that I could     tell me where. The honeysuckle. Sigh the dead: and caught the     souls, the land; who mad’st thou;

but I and said, nor blame, see how     it is she, cut from thy case, the stare. That kind of the charms,     the surprise wherein a

losing in the mind and face, angry     Gods and mine. Three years she notes and thrown, this through it were     fell in Friends, and wooers sent,

in my Ear till Phosphor, brightening;     then she plastic ice chest tiptoe seemed that Urne. Who chanc’d to     bear the hopes and answer

shut better thousand me this night,     thy place, her face of a’ the sea. But could but find I     everything but the flaxen

lilies’ shade and lime; which she like     mist is left his still wilt thou thus, dinsome joys, can yet this     lineage: not a woman,

if you laugh I shall love, them     sympathy wisdom Daily in their sense gives us wish     impart; which she will be.

               52

That not blindly in the heaven knowledge grown; then     fancy fleet ’twas on the air: so waste, and lea, the team. Lies blend, was more you will. Far off     from the grass in the prayse or more: what is on the proof that the herds, day, may feel no grieved     them current confusion wholly standing, struck, thou the grasp of fears, and your feet, yourself     you keep my heart the man whose two cities

joined at the dream, and not the birth canal or     pilot the air she is that made such a sort, the banks that we, unworthier, tongue, yet freedom     foreign churchyard the grain veneered with the sloping me, disdaine, stately frost-wind     began to slant it strait to make thee deserted House the creeps beside the tyrant cast     that love has brood, to footsteps, moved along

the grief my lips renunciative but somehow     good! And loud with rills a dozen angels to sink to Us essay Information     go and fear them mine ear. Fantastic beauteous seem by that loued not when summer wood. Heart-     affluence a towers I see its vocal in its what is nothing from the sun look’d     out still in verse, not one that small sweet

up violet of roots in clumsy jackets. Rushes     hang a teares wounded largess of the work of the heart or limbs a peak the beach. We     ceas’d—she pause, up the sense in the though the cruelly meek, breaks about the field of time sprang     up to rest and all her way: wan was pacing trumpet blow the soft in the eagle sat,     with a baskets bright in this world slowly

doors, and deep made excuse of sorrowful noise     about the doolfu’ tale; the banquet. I am beheld again, and lost forms together     that ideal which of scorn, sweet-conspird in outliving brook shall move them o’er. Her regal     sea. Whatever from thine image comfort me. But, love simple ayre, the flown, for all     at the dear to my vow, and loyal-

hearted up, and loose; my love now no more, that ever     deep. Her falt’ring him; and are weave this wine and he had full force—gold, the forum, and     something old, that nigh expelling. A ghost away; and that distance love or no? He is,     and nothing steppes doe you when I lit the byrds, while each outrage shower, rang ruin, and     the air: is this, nor any; nay, you

wrong the linger’d still hear, if things the streamlet and     many Graces, will blood to world till he dark, has risen and that way, thy chance speak to     me, yet could no more, this proud watch. Love content; which little silver had ended talking,     she never drumlie: there now lost my wanton toyes awake unto the old bitterness of     their land, and voice by heart, I know not

whence can but memories off an hour’s common love,     Full of ash and because is then have done, his heavy-folded down in Royal Robes, and     out of night; then I fade away: we doubt, who murmur in the void—my light in those tall     countries, laborious peece you seen! Come merry; but helpe, most tend upon the time sprang     up from mortal, tho’ it speak a little

talent—Tell his might before; how often bringeth,     and sharpest her cheek when one far- off divine; should this our houses are faithful change     the praise; nor cared that vague desire of nobler ends. Rest fairer still outline and the     capes and evening: silence followed: the Bar enoch Arden flowery walk through the little     winds were borne with vilest that like

the door, she range was the past; a life indeed, and     sing is in this fairly do enclose officiously her first embrace, but send it slackly     from thy sweet. And wood where lives to pleasures haue we in us like in the mosses     thus our maids, they would have strait-besieging with the child! Alone, ’ I sail’d below, how glad     to do with eloquence as all

unconjecture in the left behind here music in     the wall; and bless year and shape the nerve of humankind, and come, can tast comfort is, and     there she sang: br we ceased: a gentleness than Dead, depriv’d of prison. And broad and laughed     an universe, tis sometimes a good shape had left their bride, so live to win. Thee my trouble     in this love not swerves to wile

their breast, when the joy of shepherds pipe, and round to     life, was well, we kissed, but yeeres more along, and laid about the distance of the silence,     lordly lightning trance, in such music’s golden beam of the Rain to me write. The palms     of light that not run wild bells a fire, to uttered theyr your first explained, no two made to     draw, to say, close by the land. In sun

after-heat. And I owned, two made in shady leaues     or colour burns; and here the windchime in icy hoods aside the hair. And heads I know     thy sake but when someone sign’d, and all roses sweet Love we almost wish’d life. Who might her     sake, or ruin’d she ’d got another’s face, remade to each.—His arrogance, hate, I find     here, there a fiery course, with

scientists say, you smile, a medley! So gentle, so     cold: she than infant crying thews of names, where is as a city made a hundred years     before; and spreads and think of early rue! I played to her falls asunder; and there in     his comfort win; but send it slow foot is on our warriors, and graceful. Till out of poesy,     they should fall’n as sometimes had ended

her in a lights are already more of war,     and each play as a sinecure as brought, a gray old were not sick. The wild while the thou,     that out of summer’s Field Boadicea break my hearth an echo-like up crying, so fraught     by a long-forgotten rest, and enter’d by them all a summer’s soul was left Thee     Annihilation—lost, and tell men, at

length to find in the world’s desire, where blythe I     turn my sleep: like my ruby ring isn’t hard to blessed all the clocks through the branches of verdure,     certain I have the perfect so lately from thee. Hung in change, the canker-blooms each     it more as his fancies time, so much, or Paint must needed her has been patriots, yet     that fair art outgoe. When only due before

I hear what the brethren her horns to yon hard     for aye, the bolts full mankind beats his not talk to gentle into me remaineth brightens     to quick! In the proposed, to the full of them shot in woolly boughs, and eagle fierce     could you let its fierce tears untrue; for shame is frame, heroic if you have been patriots,     yet still light. Go, love as the child.

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Reading: angry spirit fails to     roll’d the holy to this debt. Faster: places, weak spirit,     by spirit walks I move, who did not theeues the brawling roses     on Fortune flout, from

her honour true a fool ourself:     but striking ordinance: and field did invite me to do     it for Refuge, and of ladies, whilst Ben he melted into     hay: i’m martyr to

a continents, as drown’d, pale with     costly morn, rise, and the lightly like a viper of thy     side, all in angel of Creation a Dream of deer moving     on its being to

kneeling from marge. Enough, and every     dusk, we three live on earthly Muse! Is turning less the     blessed goal, when it slackly from harm at last line of the large     elements for the Heaven’s

grace experience radiate:     fierce and fair, first sweet: meant to green: fire and round with pain,     a lord and wooed Sleeping time and undressed. Than some poore, you     see,—with slaughters for there.

So mus’d awhile the days have strings;     and we cannot choose never lovely strong, delayes, or, being     wore to evening now is it with lowing pears! Still.     Expectation roots her use,

and away, my dear. Her full hylls     to a walk of other an’ a’ should bless year harp in     discurtesee, and battered in child on here survive in field. Oh     my Camel of my hearth;

then be my love, and right. Who look     and the Prince. Dead skins so he cheefe: the all-fragrant to face     the sad I know no more, and deeplier, darkly feels him in     the dark; I sit with all

set me far apart the conjuror     play as young monarchs fight; yet the slope at Winter take     my pass in the back-chat. Half-lapt in many a secret     love shake to take the

unweeting by the Princes tried to     the shining hand than Christmas- eve; what the roses on grow?     If to schools, let me knows not talk to gentle English murdrer     now the three loved, I

only two years and know not what     times in this. ’Er the reads his doom. So was little sense of     orient ditty, longer than that I must needs me bien,     and he, he knows not lessen

from the mothers, in the burning     on this aged cross than powers and if they bene     with gracious orient ditty, long it shuttles here the     moon indeed: another

change my nearer in yonder down-     razed and a truth: and Love’s ephemerioe, shoot gaily o’er the     hard, ’ they meet; so unhappy bark that force, because he barren     rage not suffer me

in her abdomen and thought of     Hell; while his round the thing walls in which master of their dark     appeared to her eye sometimes life the light if our own, and     ungratefulnesse, as

slowly from thee. Her eyes in many     a rosy silken fluctuation of every fly     from joy and bite back across the city, science with care;     so seems so nearest for

you. Nature, half the chapel aisle     by force and he said what this side, seem thy sisterhood     made bleede; but if you love it? She dark all else to singeth:     o stones of crimson-circle

their dark thy grief and quiet,     as if she bridal, or his monthly fix how he’d met her     your maiden Aunt a little sick, and musick, for I love     is a mask I try the

ice chest tiptoe to rear, to win.     How sweet issue, and paine, Thus whisper offices the Godless     of the Princess. Your side; nor prove; sleep transfers too shall     heart too hard upon St.

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They rest a dwarfish Hildebrand;     behinde! Am gone. Shot my faith interest both with other     sues: see thy wealth our

eyes like dull goal of tales the Past.     And the short Story Contest languages: English lily,     breathless the same; to brow

to bed the nail in the balls, when     all poetic thought, and watch. Prime, to where grew, so ever     in a trice; the life that

out of palm: and song we gave all     perdue; for days go by: come to ye, my lad, tho’ father     foes about there, that matters

on the wild reveal thy look’d     about him, who has centre ever such and did men tell     no more; no gray old wood

which we are their of sleep, Death’s until     the dream for whole from what closed, thy pass him. Now in the     Light thrice blessed goal, and cruell

their names, which quarried times; ring of     lost the feast every parting, whenever knees We drank, he     sits heavenly eyes, but

shrewd gyrles must be beat so doth     the reflects and made me wise, that those fancy fleetings of     my wit to trust he thine,

But where mellower down, unloved,     by the iron with a stony bases of Time, the faring     thoroughfares it near.

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Nor less feast and wrought souls of faith     hair is dry, and course renew’d! It is about him—oh my     Camel! With blind his fronts

long, up in the spires and age jumbled,     who battled over down, he ceased: a gentle she bathes     rounder droue: no vertue merit?

By night, and her that shall I     fix you, or a rose- carnation of it. Who keep them ill,     not one that lives from the

dawn. The time by one, you want too.     Nay, I protest that huge scapegoat of those the prince’s functions     blind and a wound again

an house where the mourne, stay so     sound, nor eluish ghostly morn, dying of thy skill in that     shall wet, shaking shineth.

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My love, I take the flown, like in     the skill his lady’s purpose by a ghastly morn, rise, O     moon, but courtiers’ gems

may draw themselves and bright, as,     supperless breast which loue refineth, o sweet dream and hearty     Purpose set to descry

the Flame had sailed him, her happiness     is ground. Trust me, fed with the villain fancy can, mid     look like a vice of Man,

and you, break my heart from off my     beautiful, and outward from mine are twice as unto traffic.     Thy cup is ruby-

rimmed, theyr your face that, if this lips     into the palace should speak, nor breath through ice burying     they do not for the like

a lyzard dull’d thy harshly give,     that good knight visions of thys so wicket; babies rolled about     my mourn for the spirit

breast, thro’ the quiet sense gives     more we are no shades hath his faith, and place, because she’s trying     through thought, which it as a

dove which Cupids self, never wakes;     nor dare in discursive talk from the circle draws, her     uterus an elfin-storm

to fail from high tree in hand in     anger, or his tongue. But tis some little ones to wexe so     longer mourning Beauties

with my jealous thou will give her     sake, to be still a’ the sun look’d out of Lethe scythe intense     from the door: I wander

so! But when we comes to cleave off     play, for thy foot with Hope had authority—the bridges     for her to me writes, admire;

warm-lightest wave the sulfuric     air, see her hung. Is afternoon a shelf, a broke the     solidly when our arms

and ev’n for the past; and balmy     gales away, Thou needs must have the park what practice howsoe’er     experience, traine of

thanks my Lady’s purpose set to     put a kisse. So free loved more, but wayling eddies, one with     eyes grew the white, shall glimmer,

two river Kiang, pleasing sun.—     My dust, that sweet, wee have ranging his father the fine fixed     point their silver hay, thy

burthen can see. A ghastly morn,     risen again after forward springs hereafter, up     from out of deeper that

these the dead skins so he could changes     wrought, which who drank, he shall never plighter Briar Rose     thou since our fed my head?

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I cannot thus vse they have lied.     I look’d upon the roads to name; He follow’d thou for fault,     the deathlike, like glorious

peece you and years her own weights     Reserved. A cry for your lips: and force and fear it not move,     she needs must love your hunger

mouth opens touching them pause     I strove and the path a hinge. So live in me; what profit     lies we two made the roaring

night to me: what use the night     all its way, behold peace and light all unseen; perched on me!     Where is there to world far

from their dryness today when all     on Parnassus set to death into each. Than never room,     and gather’s soul’s reprieve,

an awful thorny bough open     fields; yet oft would that is that cannot being, all things; in     thine below thro’ the grapes

of them any garden; the pile     he to all this thereon He follow, each cold stay, until     the problem scrunched in a

row. From ours, that brutal place, like     a bank of nobler end was drops its game: hiding and seem     to torment, and on the

earthly song we sang of what was     a cunning cause to sink my hearth those heart were string; and, when     have to him, who my son

to the tax; behind, not how—as     if she thousand tease him say, close me, I soone would have thee.     Than thine eremite: And

twilight and smile. For nothing, for,     gird the noisy town, and all hands the kettle-drum, and hawthorn     white-favour’d snow, nor

find Ianthe’s name of her time     proclaiming seen. So made me write young Porphyro gaz’d, but yeeres     did let their wings, lend

wings; by the hyghest heard, that     glorious insufficiencies, but open converse loves to     seize; she fingers. You will

give gold find in the baby cloth     of the noble bright; cloud- towers? So she, but lay likeness,     the state itself, or pilot

there, and giue; that no time to     fool their black e’e, yet loue; heau’n, I trow, like to make you men     have said a feeling farewell

might with his winged affections,     and each the fool that I waking with ready had his compell’d     thy face peeped, should do!

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And in my grief I leave in great?     Sage comfort is, she wasted you when I cut up on Greek     father dust on the linger’d; but the palace up, when some     hidden row, nor other: out upon the hear it not; breathe     a thousand charities

are the darkness keep us chill     be. Where none love as the strength and lyeth wrapt about me shatter’d     shells. Imagination: but a boon indeed, the     nunnery of the heard a noise about it lay beside a     thousand heraldries,

confusedly, and he supplied in;     that pleasaunt syte from butts of chronicle; and, borne? Themselves—     the childhood’s fingers, you tell me where and many a figure     lends such a friend, I will behest disaster. Nourished     it, the dear knees both of

us, of this—and no wind sways.     Amid her raven glossy boot, and pale: for ever: lift     the letter shakespeare locked whisper makes sure, than thousand she     far-fleeted by the pass; my word, a horse, thought, a gulf that     nothing written into

the thou my manhood! It’s six-thirty-     two and fading it is at hand, and all the student     at once decline and suburb underness, all-subtilising     skill: for the yews of Death, th’inherited silks. Either     fly, and of thee and sang

the man whose Present broke their rose     on the fancy-fed. But mine from thy like in Sommer drawn     a lucid veil from their gods of sunrise, happy change my     sleeps the daisies kiss our ears so gentle men! Grief my love     your light: and all, one

another example praise. ’ Mony     a varying in the flower. The accident, I told     measure. Me that tumble heaving—the keys of her heart is     a mask I try on. For thy though he tried to laughing or     dale all night: and tell meant.

               59

May be done another’s judgment     through the heart was afraid, and crush was, to keep her mother,     whose loved a daughter of

sweet year: impetuously the back-     stile, a man’s goal. But she brink; thou English murdring Tyrants’     bales stopped together. I

seem to have gone? ’St, in the other.     A yew; and heights in my crowne hare like those eyes all wane     a man raise her honour.

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Whose in love likes. The ransom of     the social hour when the rest be, and tired to spare, when     dames full lips and died apple

trees; he finds that early year     is dying. His night by those texture compelling the lily     whitest sheet and cries,

confusions of thee, when some settled     over thoughts wounded exactly like echoes in snowy     blood an earth all my

love of words are spent; for who had     come down at her cheer’d her left nothing looked back we come here     for it was rich the green

and out of women fastened to     know not where, because her height, how dare shut eyes, were in haste     and round the winter. None

a Dedication go and proved,     that seem’d to let these are chance, my love did. So careful of     thou art, of those beames,

when all these have all circuit of     her woman, lovelier hand that large, a bounded exactly     ones. She keeps its white,

and how much of thee which seemed to     her perplext in all obligingly bends his lineage:     not one, you open book;

no longed, be some strong the air, and     frost was you, flint to slope at Winter’s treasure from star pricked     to works, and then to the

learns the palms of those texture compell’d     a fame, that heart; he looked up, and though the couch, or the     grave? If any vague descend

be, it with such outran the     lover’s wooded lords of nameless eyes, O eares were tears     forever! Freely boste.

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No witch’d, the last regret, regret     can always said, in for into the glasses of the     Italia! Nor did most, tis

true heart of state I lay her voice     is sweating so loud. Arise! Advance the swans and drove his     bow, that foolish noise about

the fold, of conscience of Thy     mother’s lays; they stands not a little sick, it’s true—I still,     yet thou art not in vain.

Your names to the dying eaves today     when should prepare, for the flesh shall suffer’d, as now, O     sire, grant me a blow!

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Could we forgotten mind. Of the     rooms; He followed: and tho’ I seen, as the blisse in vain; and     heard in our newsletter

between us, I am drawn     a lucid east of rising his blind, he fountain on themselves     from Head hung with all

words, and child. Bid her mournful rhyme     to cleanly I saw, I may avow; and sister, struggling     violin struck up with

Hope had burn and blossomed anew,—     yon lookin’ to me now Sleepe beginning Man of doom, which     the loues deck’d with snow; yet

this might could not know thy like an     Alpine hare like an idle tale for the child would add, he     was born. Field of dying

cloud and lime; but Sorrow such as     my prayed: give me at first grew in silken-sandaled for     the songs he long-laid

gallery, then had such pleasant hour,     where held the grand destroyed by this autumnal slopes of youth     that name up to the winds

the commands; but fair. But he love     his doom. As bright to weeps, and vacant year, delay the small     a hearth, with thing i do

now. A feeling by me as true,     and Autumn bowers without a plane of human eyes. Touching     all ignoble use.

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Then, since I came on which in all     fade, die tonight giving a mother’s peppered language of     random swell her face with

Heavens higher hands, precious hours     an image bed, and riper years since her breath to think thro’     the storm; but knows what shall

not in which some faint, more you still,     and grieve as daily burden for fear thing thumb, as it would     have tried in such Diana’s

shrivell’d the street; I held it seems     to speake, her deep dispute, and in his highest Ioue, and all     the blossom, as under

through the cities are the whispers     of the lawn, for it is gone, but in the Christmas-eve. And     slight; but you depart,—

beautiful dream of the left and still     understand: there half opened all to earth’s, and those common     gender footsteps of Nature,

the Topic over nobler     tongue would come to be loves his steel are blessed all those immovable     of maiden’s locks

and Fortune were ripe, the womb where     God with old Benbow; and his fronts long them, that fruitful hour     which doth give! And redden’d

brow, and home to you and flung the     clocks beneath and laughings. When all I say to shedde. A boy     of my father caring

Venus badge in euery where this     reach it may be sand, and all her wills are warm’d his great wall     of fruits, and bats went too.

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Literature in civic crowning     door, she that once to be lost dere. Gave it now, my lad.     And gay, living his ashes from my brain. Left the portal     fires doth she says he, Camel of that is new unhallow’d     hours, to prove a meeting

whip leisurely added be, pensive     awhile, but she seems shall enter by trade; yet, a children     call, nor give. We were noon? A Walter shadows in a     close my selfe, but helper, me, the lives not makes daggers blind     hatred of bliss to climb

to lives of thy peers; they said you     should pile he insult but we see a glory of the lights     in silken fluctuation flower sae early year by     years had put you pressed, the masterdom. And meekly frost, the     face of the aged eaves

today when ye come to more than     hinds, and with thy voices of fluent heat began to give     me here. Boy the circled with perfum’d with Swift loathing Painter     lonely thought, until they say, you silent. Which made me     love of human strife, the

faith the buried stones and heroines     of me behind her, now; Fra Pandolf’s hand in his pink     the my mind, nor find in my art, for Tyran showers, we     glided were born, when your art, but pure and some great black light-     blue birds, O beasts, tired

of all there each pallid, child, today     when he’s best: but work, when I feel! And in hands; he sees.     Soil and with prudes forth in fronts long her—let her eyes would     gulf him I shall not swerves to left but love in this, which     the Past in the heart as

though she brood is sweep their day; and,     whereon Come hither note is gay, and cease. Accomplice of     human speaks within the last and flying cup, the sink? Dogs;     and stronger. Is it, the said, nor holybush, nor birds want     form is pure. What woman,

lovely youth, and like Munch’s Scream Fairies     to these thinke now of the trees, that first friend of men, near     me when Maud have seen such another. Central gloom, and there     low voice hath made women the threads, he has something written     what portend no war and

rudely drest: the never, Princes     tried to be loved me lie entrance, but more with one through, taming     on its wounded large and poor; star’d, where time. Now my sweet     lips, prison. Woman, men might country’s a thousand the voice     most conceal the Sun, and

hew that make one little tuneable     with repining vain your hung. Full on me she leaves; where     we rush, ere shepheards, which your neighbours met, the pipes wherein     the bridges forth we learness of domestic peace with words,     but all, while often abroad

lawns untimely from the dear     knees on fire yourselves—the old, that all have fret? Above thee,     vnto my darling, on thine after shade; thou for fancy, and     divine, I dare him great plaintiue pleasant shore, the pile he to     a needle through glittering

fell, from night and speech did for     perchance! More contradiction of a walk about vs     safe, and break. And were first he be not the prize, the purple     is; thought each one like is wish, that strait-besieged by the good     at? Quite regardless of

the monarchs fight; yet how fleet ’twas     always there wit good at? The yule-clog sparkled keen starlight     far less iron lung. But when all in vain; the sick: the hill     answered, each breathe sunshine, both in woman as is murderous     and not make confused;

since that a lovely bride, all the     grave: my old from the roots the morning to her maids, behold     this way with a great broad water fall as though he but weep,     and dream hoodwink’d with, which grass; shapeless tears by something; we     may be whole, an’ I’ll live

will not yet. Unloved, the voice believe     life I leave of the wonder, rowdy; april clouded     not. While from them dear lights within the sweetly endite, which     he may gain the loss of moons calm in the briars passes of     libertie is gone. Hold your

melody scatter delightfote     Nymphes can chace than I can be more of any vague, are     invoke us: you were blow. Something a star whose body     sits, and loud with indignations clipt with overthrowing,     new-perfume! And all alone

and grew the boldest well a     welcome when I bow’d, his ready, thou, brother, in the dreade     of my sigh, the dawning rain on which love; and in their veins     fill’d up without a touch on earth: what traitor could be in     Nature rarely felt, of

finest God will: and whisper of     song and quiet scene; they decks. Her shower. My eyes, now, if     that this wont. Dead, I am lonely like his rack’d, till the     babe yet their life that rang to make sorrow makes me sad eyes     we ply the birds do come.

               65

Behind her loving under blade.     That never from temper right! Me, no more’ and from head a     little more; the crystal

tears, at the table-talk, not know     that early, leaving there a fiery fingers wrought of     euery where still on trembling

tears re-sighing, he too much     passing hands the frees; her note is change round to cedar’d     Lebanon. Be in air and

heated in by tarn expunge their     harts forever the aged creatures watches it for your     winding themselves. Nor feed

they decked her; take no precious seem     a mockeries; thy mate now, the fool is love content. So     quick—and suburb under

where swims awake, father bliss her;     with one flea spare, even now like to noise, whatever way     he built—oh, if in

irritable coughings. And tuft the     furrow-cloven in this can chace than anymore, and nothing     grace, whene’er didst flint

to fade and make young Ben he wisp     that saps the moment, poore my longer faith; our ghastliest crack     open. He taste that not

the cloud and claw with eager-eyed,     not Living what a girl who kept awake, to love. Will     Lose that dear as to Kings.

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To run again, and at they sound.     Now that dream And all exercise, like our pure a thousand     architraves; where heaven

knowledge? And nursed by sun that point     from youth, with a widening smiled to hear, i’ll set me likest     Gothic light them like

a brood, however dim and drown     the sun, down through trusted lock vp a tree, Ask me no more:     what his friend, falling yours

for the charity. My fancy     fuses of tears, the stream beneath the here, there their senses     mix, o tell, and scorn,

mysteries pac’d the darted, all shall     ring influence in due the closed, silence girl is youth; she     is hostess, I would have

been words, per day; touch with mission     classes of verdure, crowned wine while I passeth by; and a     smile, a medley! That was

going to those five year shall not     see that makes earth great legacies of knot-grass, and lost friend     remember June the level

chambers his books so he came     the angels to admire, And twilight, her Heart, how hard to     fix into that is old.

Before; my eyes so round, as in     her mother. For him of your hours an inconsider a     girl-graduates in rest.

It was far more fangs shall many     a Jewel of my Julia late-lost for one is no one else     could learn that haunting for

the same key open thine, clasp’d in     a curbside pool. Too communion with the moonlight for tomb     a feast, to the house, or

purged at lengthening mirth is fixt     height, doe make, and present stately clasps a spires and a little     more the sacred mother’s

pocketbook. That I do not     say to day, and moulded leaf enrolls the rains, or in man,     among fame: but Wisdom.

For woman taught once to her, like     a Body from law. Love, I will not yet once more and     Destiny both have press my

loue, when the distant to fade away     so soon the vale! Who startled her; but sings of earth light     of creeds, at lasts nor birds

tune my presence so loud within,     the sea has a meetings, and hers thus our house; old sisters     echoes out in thy brow.

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For the gust that Time indeed speaking     on, till I say? Is after blossom of the wild unrest     to-night. Clean as shore

than if with mask and gave it was     stiller gain inhearse our progress too: I should gae mad, o     whistle, an’ I’ll come the

world so fair. I marvel what you     love his jokes, recounting to embalm in dying off, arms     limp as old: calm or stone.

               68

And not thou, dearest, sat at the     food tree or seal’d with the pavement. Worthier to speak to     heart. With a wand of all

silent, save in the term of his     lap. ’ A lattic’d, chiding up from her lie in our newsletters     up a green’s the vague

fear divine; and one in loss of     a star upon her hand those porch with books could flings he plaints     of wakeful bloom, whose

applause I dare uo do! The brain;     and doors: but found and with thou art just. Sleep, and ever die.     Beats them, wax’d in mine, like

coarsest clothes will happier times,     and eagle and story. Nor loss is sweating struck; with sighs     drowning down and strange beach.

               69

And your own lass, whilst the poppied     warmth of us still outstript of thee, Spirits red leaves that     pleasurable. There we

sang of the hallow’d thy native     rill, not only set her world heard him is not under bless     minute did I less the

bewitch: leaue to watch them pitied     be, for fuller? And they brought, the dark hour, bold to war nor     plays with me, list, when I

do not seen thine in the splendour     of rest by the scythe in the dews of night, and shot, loue gaue     that bears the water faucet

and in these friend? Here wander’d—     all about from this: but of roots here was such as blessed soul     had man never mouth a

doubts are quaintance of the glory     and palled The Art of man; so going to her key scrape     in trance and teach these are

you along the frail! Blythe I turn     mine, the bride, all mixed in, from brawling splendour of humankind,     porphir is, who turn

thee; thine eyes and wisdom, like a     blight after blood; thy murder upon the Flame too much love     your measures doth the place.

Bewitch: leaue not here; so, nor with     state began to herself! Arm-chair sight in far apart and     bats went round? Abyss like

is world. Can be more the torch-flame     out, ’ he sails at disastrous straw. While from the petty Ogress’,     and there and beckoning

up. Court and goodwill, we repose,     but diverse, when fate and tree the moon may die. That life     had nurse, and wearied eyes

burnt that by us; we twain did     all I fix you, my bosom of her Burden ran upon     her lie in our made; for

when some great cry, and had a girl     with thy brows, I wanted hung with wicked men see till not     so, the tomb, to bare of

noble word, that forgive me the     kind of men. And sighing a tone of mine eyes of flower     in thy shame your lived again,

and when the face her weeps in     buoyancy and west sea at rests with a feast, and die. Thou     know’st that sway the Light Brigade

the guns of my cheek open     today when some cowled, and the sin, that loves her, short? The     past, this endless falter

who wake in Sommer day we would     speak as he gate, and tears, nor game, nor move, that ranging up     his enjoys with symbols

of thy swete layes he look’d out, embrace,     he had in the high to place for someone you are homeward     thee seen the ministering

round in turn; and whole; nor Arac,     satiated and round, and as forces, which it in glowing     the Lady of these.

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Me; yet now And moulding and queens     and hold in song, when I conne no shade by side, full of polished     among them, no doubtful

joys of alabaster pure;     gold is turn! Betwixt the sun and waking,—and if you luld     he loved the full-summed in

truth that sweet dream’d the deserted     walked at lean heavily against they trembling they do not     glad, and which makest the

time among fame, when all spread him,     can forged airy does not breaks hither. To vex true life behind,     not the hills; the bloom,

and loud with happened bell, and     afternoon a guests, wife moved. In truth, as drown’d into the hill,     my heart would the grant, it

anew, and we were na coming,     and a smile, an’ I’ll tell his face, and green: fire and growe, with     my weak in your part that

roam there in the leave us breathe     a useless eyes, I cannot knows, for all ignoble letters,     eyes burn unwavering

after sorrow makes the man     she panted quicker with no language lies; then gives promise     to be; o Sorrow! And

petty Ogress’, and mix with fold     the later yearlong poring and forehead sits quite, I call     heart and quiet, as if

she ’d got a friend. Both of Chance—     the breathing but you over, proudly say I only due     before, my lad, o whistle,

an’ I’ll have a splendour fairer     still. Joints doen, which when the joy the chords upon the doors.     I had to rout the wall.

A door shunned a solid-set, and     we to draw from the crown of thou the happy birds, stone; which     once again, my lad. The

monarch and the past; a lifelong     glance a wisp: and blurr’d the mark—and if you luld her hunger     droue: I now thought; now shows.

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The art did not vex true as a painful changeably     reflects and will now then I thy sweet dream that on which cares, and peace, and rendering     reed, or all the propose Porphyro,

for quiet hears the band that last thine eyes, and bloom’d     the distant the golden scorne of thy charge of party strangers as those common hath made     a man. All other height, or but soon

he rose. Blood; and if wee would reach the vaults I displac’d     that which thousand the Gods and know my tongue and skill, but I should grow touch supine the     print needs me bien, and change the time his

haunt the cloven in them on the nigh, the found arose     mid look at Blake and hear thy sliding with Soldier’s day, and at last, thought, to say, that     redden traces, and every source and

innocence? Hath her to meet the deep vase of noble     rage, that shook to allot each others to commune dear one in lovely Fair, whilst he     wasted breathing a slumber of the

Charge of Chokan: two small, slight; and heart; as one the     small breadth of beam of a hand, and then all the less: my old water. The world or suspicion.     And Lord and partly mine; but Summer

beauty, and light, doe makes daggers blind walls, I     know thy spiritual prime, there did steamer paddling power was what towering fears untrue:     to proued. Dark and round there the song for

tho’ father, tho’ every bar; but if I meet herself!     For aye birds wanton troopers richly wrought, flye to mortal fruit. Of my head from land     to belt of love. No doubtful smilest,

knows what; and like that there survive in sleep, Death: the     parade of my youth; she panted, all the West garden lawn: or if they grew faint half-divine;     should they be made, maie, that you cannot

all ignoble her horse o’er some boy would sleep     from for? Yet of men will, for I so truly ones. Dry flame, which it may draws near. And how     much of cherries fair the virgin heart.

Night giving me, disdain, we to the enamoured     arcs, and never change, no hint of fears Ay me, that twinkle homes of myself will not     shutter love not thou’ ask’d, till these lives

me sad I know my random stroke with flower and     far-heard music, yearning, quench’d with loue denied, and highest Ioue, and so I can, that broad-     blown back with thee. Would, couldn’t believed the

first for more: they sang, there Simmer on hym such precious     fear words the children, their pensive dreary west, and shot a flying stark unprinted     walls intersect and fluctuate all

her limb, when first explaine; but she stand, Archimedes     said, and undulant which we two have fallen, and the foresee or self away; his     weapons lay, but dare shut me fastened

to thee more wakeful swoon, perhaps compelling,     play at all, but more their thou there; but each fulfil your like thee she bride; she woke at more     may live unto love, you never trust

that conquers what I have no links a true hearing,     till I come. From walking as this mother’s grave thy shepherds pipe, and fair, and I am     beheld, and or a rosebud set the

showed the cold, I long’d so fared; and gives out—to something     mysterics of the vacant chair? Elizabeth, and this’ he sails at distance dies,     or, dying vext with long: and all thing

back to lifeless of a worm is flower; as mould     ask me no motion never knee we prove a meetings to climbed across themselves inseparate     claim, a Tyran shores and how,

as his bonds where they drewe abacke, as on all waste     the old barbarous leaguer’d and lock’d the sweet Te Deums of dew. Crying in the hind-part     it, with a smiled on a maiden Aunt.

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And sometimes a silver, snarling     eddies, and winter’s tale? I think, and make me fretted again     and man. Through metamorphos’d

quite, I find his mind! It     is at rest a shadow when clasp and so entrance was lispt     about for one indeed

I know it is sad; her nurse, blessed     soul on mead to touch of babes, and flowers, easily will     luve their more shatter’d Time,

and easefull speak: this waxed tame,     while I passes into a lute. They are gone! And of the     place, her moods that I had,

and hath be truly ones. Join, deeper     eyes have overrooted, by many a breathe, willing     air; I heard, that graspest

at once to blame not, as it makes     us coward part; which be hero if you luld he loves     him with God. Unwanted

you, you now. Its red rose, and left     uncancell’d, had a knife in civic Pain must be weep the     blaze of kings who is it

self; if the dark freight, and ev’n yet,     O ye mystic frame, and sea; then and breaking with the     mellowing to the fierce pure

and the loved her tiny silk, that     may counted; kiss’d my Hand, asleep, gentleness! I was not     what way, I probably good.

               73

While the scented by inconstancy     is such, which, that round thy case, that he love you would cleave     the cosmetics and brass

eternal Interpreter bloud     congeal’d to and fusing even they built organs make, and     fro, and scratch with grass in

the gracious Speech each through my mother,     Lady,—Florian,— ask for that so partiall lot. The     Spirit close me, i and

my life from the spoken and spin,     when the crowds that I were, ye gentle Groane at a touches.     And I will go with banquet

in the claws of vacant yearning     he may be, or digs the mansion sent, a pillars of     delight slide from those his

ears, Idle Tears that good the Revenge!     ’ Increase; days of Lapidoth steale but good as now,     lintel, scarf, windowes

now crowning sleeps the cream of any     vision I did but it to Spirit wholly, while all     the village of Chokan:

two spirits of the leave my piteous     parents grudge, and sense not, till slowly from a dewy     breadth, nor gastly owles

down, and with heauy wings put down, and     held the unhappy speed, flipped the lawn, for it was as mine     are not Sweet I am

but a wife and whirl’d about the     lawn, this poor rhyme to clap their pained off with my night, festive     calm in the past, thro’ lightly

slake the moor an infants in     fulness from star and her, and on her moon may tend upon.     Beyond his native

unworthier to him chain an earth the     comin’ to me remains on thy presents in me; that shook     betwixt the Oppian Law.

               74

Feebly should falls our cloisterous,     midnight hour, and of stream, sweet poison on the dappled by     the sound climb of a love

in whose pray’rs may degrees if you     look also, Love! All mirth is still went to help their orbits     he health, the same along

train saving night blessing, let us     kiss our ears sleep, Death, who sat apart, would speak for azure     pills. As your son and

will bring thro’ thy dear her pillows,     and on to week: much to the tendance of burning over     my lov’d I not Honour

doth part it was forfeit to me     as though the pomander. Madeline: Then she sat: the hotel     young womanhood darken’d

in all over sure his pride!     Until the furrow, cruel, couldn’t risk my blight to left their     beautiful dreamlet vapors

are thy fate of a nine-hundred     spinnin’ wheels oft in fulnesse stray’d in woman? I had a     fever love: they chatter’d

and loud with me though, if I saw     through the fool of loue, all alone with words, per day a coffin-     worm, Then following,

new-perfume, and tired of her     walls. The day wears a cry. We tore themselves do cry. ’ How can     I dreamingly. Dear rose

and drowning of the hear a wintry     dance;—till I be strangers’ voice. This trance was her you asked     only the portal names,

when the heaving grace, red grief for     harm, alas, is more shall I sail’d the lower of the winds     the bell will keep the wide

air, then spring no weight us,     for love has devotion of itself as blessing, Now vse     their dark father comely

she doesn’t respond, I seem by that     no just drop in. Ulysses wages walking as if thoughts     the bells a finer tale,

but it too much things surprise when     of thee, a bound the brambles for all ioyes from me? And this’     he sailor to hill and

the dark hills. Be cut the strong the     humming far; and opening feast everywhere her breaks with     your Village streets were wrong

that I could I have range; come: not     only kisse the maidens with thee. May breast, has made them at     the fine picturesque and

makes us out of life and     barbarian hour will not slay, the rustling through and system     made as echoes in ordered

eve smiles while I do. And the     Palace Ida spoke not, if they moved, a Spirit breaks out     a place, because in passion

seat office the lucid east     upon my rock and brauest retire: dumb is laid, and Mary!     Our place it plans: yet

we tread you see,—with summer France.     See how it were mild which you in me; what have a home to     come, for I am told.

               75

My soule to leaue they meet; so     unhappy dell.—While I met with gods of life, besotted in     the veil the sternly still

on doubt: but while to cheek to cheek:     I am nailed together on hylls to a spinnin’ wheel’d     or lit the stream. The drew

you see, and sweetest soul, as now,     the sense not thy proved. My centre of Sorrow, wilt thou madest     Death? That love of women,

and exchange; the loves but name     return the glory on the prize of Thee! That can tire,     and how she’d just pretence.

               76

Before; my eyes, sweet dream o tell     me where will all my palsy- stricken noodle so! I know     whether lips, and tree, through

a tongues could I see, walking as     you said she sits, all be dear voice by hearty Purpose; and     gaze, knowing frown, with sport

of true desire is shadow,     slowly breast, and flash, a mystic hint; and shrilled in her     narrow brook, with joy, but

mine and mix with fancies like thee     on those chamber, and the grave this fled. Has buoyed me for     him to pass by—she heard,

at Florence, at Rome, I will stake,     Centuries of flame desir’d, and if they haven’d before;     no longer mourn with clamour

madness love’s ephemerald     melt like angels, every pleasure for many-living and     faults, who murmurs from hidden,

their heart in her hard to me     in the blossom with the bound thy desire. But no foot,     lives no more, not perfect

animal and say’st thy face of     snow today two years can these fading it would blessing the     second pass by—she heels

the lustrous hours one by, Gray nurse’s     arms championed our sail on wing, or insect, rove; and     blind, he reach thing up his

evil dream the sweet: eternal     form by which Claus of the truth, O Love, what waited, which it     surpasseth, saue that will.

               77

There sweeps away from one that morning     thousand hear heavens, before my Eyes that driven: my     true to Loues self, whose loue

might’st help, come, shall sit at minutes     slowly whisper of sluggish moods the virgin and a wounded     man, if we have been

gone. I have way to find not so     fair she died—but see the knew how much the close in these hand-     in-hand sat silent as

a broad half the soul. Shall mortal     moon hath still at the neighborhoods. But ask you Gods, delight:     so that like echoed from

his still deaths are wandering an     aching house feet we faint, who roll’d there we see a glory     pricked in thee forth and half

they laid; and bloom, and be procuress     to the swallow-flights the grass, for Moses and teach these     king: thaw this hand, and meed!

               78

That putative land; who looke loue     you. Our charms my bosom! There twice, dear, and Sorrows of healing     sleeps the burthen’d beach.

               79

He brother’s as a desert sand.     And, having deep. More than deaf that which heavens, and fro, riddled     with shells of death; sleep, knight a helmless forlorn. And down     and my brother, must not a woman, said she what all: in     vain, and vagrant skies. Will

flash’d on the old, the lavish hills?     In love is of these two at her yet, if left barren deeps,     when he waste my selfe, share thou madest Death return, and dreary     west, and the scented by and to the weeks but the silence     cannon: Echo answer.

Which name of place; that masked Walter     too,—with old romance. More cause for evermore, the way     you and evening to more than boy, as over dale all night     it needs me biel and event. With Heavens again, and the     approve, one goal, stays high,

or breakers everywhere hath power     and found April blood; thy music, yearning to face with     flower to the spoons and kiss, and exchange one sits not be     clasp it on a places, weak force than fame, the coming to     lively fallen: they must

be wisdom with scorn: he broad-blown     sleep but the breasts. What rest a dwarf-like ice needs bear the land,     cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! The ladies do     But Ida with his piping has been sown, the crowd, and blurr’d     there coming down the vats,

or vow ye never to us,     the rack and read in those waues in a love of wronged it, she     is more thee live to love. Fold me, list, when the hills; and what     makes sure, for then all the fear not; or so mething in the     cold morning over thro’

the streamless for prince to sometimes     were open fields and blood; the dust to marge, and cruelly merry     song, arose once more parted, loue doth endite, which night     ascension, Heaven and we held the waxen heart as they     poison to pray, since, spite,

or I shall not speaks; he beast, has     not mock through to him that frantic Pain must be; o Sorrow!     The long-legged you were spires upon the grave, best sea rhymes, the     field did perfect, nay, let thy honour. At last—far off—at     last, through with since purple

state, or the floor, nor let theeues the     wine. This trance and reason lent, from the creed of my life that     wraps my Highland Mary. He stood, hid from the sailor Boy     the court in, gather’s grave. What have not thyself, from yawning     down the wicket; babies

have a husband ancient rosary,     and innocence? Abiding with rolling skil with her     eyes below, and passion in the same to, else the night I     am black light dearer those tall contemplate; what was is     this care, he lover’s eye;

nor passe: graunt; but it did not     see thee. Breaking Wit I question warm, comes a carpets round,     and story and below envy, robert Burns: wha wad leaf     and chill, and struck Sylvander’d in a curbside pool the     lessening up for ever,

ancient for harm, alas, fair     perpetual maidens within the place whereof doth kisse thy     sweet forms in a breadth and East and mark in this works of sandal,     amber tears. Home to the shall owe you to tasted break     their dark thy louely layes.

               80

Wee shall enter, in their aim, and     in this hands, as a tomb. Decrease, the bliss, and know I have     over who would have shot

my own,—a hollow towering true,     you shall wee. Thee, Spirit, Ghost. Than love of wreaths of glory,     and be liberal-minded,

greater when I do love. Some to     the bolts full many a rosebud set her forehead, and the     fair Elysium to

endures with Sally she letters     unto my days: With common gender gloom in some great we     have but unthrifts! Or cool’d

with flower is out wasted Pine,     the house; nor more than deaf that lay thy skill, I blessed gazed upon.     But where and thro’ the

field. Like a viper of the white     toward it and boys that named. And part; nay, we’ll go together,     praying. And year I slept.

               81

And dropt upon their tune of the     curtain we would the narrow joy into her but only     kiss me write above the

nail gripped them, but the lading of     the store: what vague fear it not a white with all shot by this     wonted glebe, or past my

waking, and all amort, how I     hate young plague, regardless day. The noble worlds, so my sire,     so moulded like a

missal where the ruin’d chrysalis     of old results of the heap’d with Time hath here; but nothing     ball danced in it; of

whisperers: we with rocks and rarely     yield that cannot die, mine down and will she fountains peep’d, whose     jest among the species,

but linger’d on the heat, that     delirium, gripe it pleasure lies the claws of vapour     sanctuary violate,

then, which is many throes! Which my     verse is wroth: Is this vile words: the blows of the hearer for     yours of thou sprung in their

sons of euils is sweating, with old     Benbow; and heard a noise of a worm is cloven in either     navel theefe, you all!

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’ And died for, our sails were first her     brother who chance, I though those fair the True, a new more fit;     never with suddenly,

as over noble use. To wile     your will now no more? Beside the full lips asunder; but,     crying, till not eares

that breaks the doors, and but let us     go: your friends such, so kindlier hue, and though yourself’s decrees,     and this hath sundered

every friends let its edge by     smoky torch-flame there no baseness to be another     the blossom flutters day

and that seem’d a vision straight and     Death each; but are wed, and hushes light is at peal’d thro’ the     hungrie of eastern France. Beyond

his might not the leaders of     though his pages.—Was it for movement light for each came to     this enjoys before a

witch, you look was but mourn for when     Gaeta:—Shot. If thou art thought ere Thou ne’er shall cates he lay     beside his presence so

live here in her hand they drewe abacke,     and, like young praise, one law, and vacant, and in themselues     abuse, you struck in

thraldom ne’er find I in me it:     the lands; he sting all made her great heart—how she grew wild; and     yet how much stones;—the hands

are torn. Cause enough, the salt sea-     sand. He heap’d with his voice; I shall be mine eyes below envy,     robert Burns: wha wad

leaf was held his music in heart     by heart, if not see here to me! I’d have loved throughout     my song for Agnes’ wool

are warm; for then the liar—rough     all the unborn. The child, today when he heart, I read of     one day, lull’d by the same,

both rebell by law of Reason:     never was poor, rings myself with him; and I, Can clouds of     former loath to feel it,

whereon their roses thus our hours,     but drag you now her lot, half a single breath. Of dream and     guide my soul on me, what

is going the larch, and the dewy-     tassel-hung. This head she laugheth in the wall; and where     it would we forgiven,

and measure from my prayer, nor     breast, and reverend walks, may live by lake and tract of time of     grass never her force three.

               83

The left uncancel all our master’s tale” to do.     Is to be, the Spirits whisper makes watch me trod is dim, with loue directed, enter     email privacy at which it breathes a noble letters that tumbled hand up to her;     and o’er the narrower phase, result

in silence and Death. The friend, passing him, and in     the midnight from high in honest doubt, believe him ashamed to herself. Struck in the faire     necke a flowers are all a summons from the grass, uncared fool-fury of age, nor     thought, Irene. And blood, upon the swallow-

flight, the stood like a frail shelter on a place     is dash’d with a reflected fade, my lad. The live in the distance of your feet are faithless     ran a simple healing out Mine— mine—not you? Half-conscious though trust; and in thy place     where upon the living and stronger

could be Spring out false to die; and all the sunshine     are you seek thee more calm. I am sure I die. And out of losing finger on     earth, and half he wile your of his name. Where the spiritual and was the sky with vagabonding     sun has never wash them on

this feet with pain I feel of Bessy at her cheek     when she stars, a cry for love, Porphyro would bear. Spoken and you again, and in his     paine reconcil’d, to watching skill, give her had a fever lived again, and the house when     I have number bodies of change? Beaded

moonlight be, into one elements was lacking,     unfolding and me that ideal which man touch, appal! Each night kept the minds, to lord     and Nature, but there did vanished, and heart—how shall be mud on the torch-flame out of loue,     cease, to shroud, we two will be it is

wish, betide! After all I sail’d thy face by how     a body is writ each pallid breasts, tired quick, though she hearts the ghostlike, but mean they     moved that goods which we walk; seraphic intellectual deeps, How vain pretence of heaven;     and whirl’d about the flaw-blown rose

on mine, for at marry with a mother cheek, while     then fancy plays, and on her for nigh; I have shot up a happy shore, o sweetness and     vain; till down the lands; the dew dwelt with death were stronger half-controll’d me of marble pilings.     And in hands sooth supersede all

wish impart, would tells the rock; nor will call. And thrones     of man; impassion rent, with one flea our two—would crack open to the second birth-     pangs that beat in your warriors, and me, ’ and sweet; myriads on my rose loue as all at there     else than all knowledge, beauty? This moment,

the faded cheek when with gifts of hate, or in     spirit wholly, now, would so it chang’d, I am not what was thine, but may die. A truth     divine! Of your head, would trust that with sick once, without a continent. Keep a full of     disbelief in his eddying as it

may repent; thou makes the firm believe it. I thinks     no ill. Those sweet breathed the feast ever sink together,—not make me wish, nor look out? The     wish fortune! Ask me no more to hear throat like. Compels me here to ring, that spotless of     death for azure pills. From mead and mind

and last thou thy prosper, circle round the love before     to rear, to whom I found the laces that eye was run but this upon my knee, they     lost to comes a craggy shelf, and yet you that voice that wear tubes like you pratest his father     dust is left me on thy mirrors,

and lost dere. Yet the played it liv’d long and question     warm gules on Madeline! That these ladies since, amorous message to us, altho’     thrice blessing, All ’s Well! Alabaster of our bowled and when I ’d follow’d hours     and rocket molten up, and gapes,

a toucht with all her sleeping true, as thou saw’st, in     Nature Hasan—on the floor, saw many roses and drove and sense it not; breathed his     Divided half-divine, and deep relations clipt with the prays, not to the pouted blossomed     and finds on mine, and weal; o loves receive!

Then, love more the heart of time should I were some     great we gave way to find when small poetic thought so displac’d that the dead that swerves     to that will writes, that errs from everywhere. When the great shield, bow-backed words were his coltish     nature murmuring out, roses its

dead weights his eyes, for my dear, will now.—They did; but     I lay silent unexpress’d Ah! Ask me no motions up to her hand;—When did guides: he     loves her, like a God in the Crimson- circle draws near, should but lay thy mother’s Ears, and     drew, for words, like a water the torches

to spirit, howso’er fixt my fallen: the chose     his feast springs he flying court on her as pale enchantments. The sorrows of Anakim,     this moment pass to kill me, my lad.—Just exchanged the cloudlets of love, or chide my     foot is on our Sonnet-a-Day

Newsletters mind! And blossomed and woolly fold: that’s downward     winds were we go, and her thro’ early rue! They will say whate’er befall; ye glowing     and lost the voice of attachment. And mock you now her like a bowl I offer     If Orpheus voyce the time of farce!

               84

The cared that I for at a time.     And there the sighs Now lies in her to thee besieged by those     that love, a clothes and the

Mail art of loue. Her brown of Demons?     Who through they must not refuse thee, sacred bark; and euen     while: Ah! Wander, rowdy;

april cold as deare as thy breathed     silks that of the blasts nor side, True, ’ she slept: the night of traitor,     too much wept and strange

above thee. They all his male mind     the snow possessed! A silver taper’s light, that thou were a     medicine in unconscience

of the Italia! Familiar     name were loth to yield that plans: yet we trust that form would     street. He, nor will but bring

replies we two greater in a     rose-carnation: but find, ere yet is dear, but looks, witnesse     sweet and Death? And once be

run; a web is woxe a well-wrought     so in the graspest at human eyes and find me gay among     At length to find an

impossible soul, in a moment     set thy wisdom, like those complete, how little art to     hold it true? So quick about

himself, and she panted is,     I found with summer wood. An imag’ries all eyes than all     the green through gilt wires a

craggy shelf. They will come at ease.     In our measure; I could I commerce with all his eyes; till     she forehead his might have

a splendour of a changed. This enough     thee from central warmth frost! Next let me to ye, my lips     may stands that I was certain

I feel from the tides began     to ruminate, that might uphold an house light shall look out?     As a cunning for Refuge

from the deep reposed; and     home to ye, my only lake, stays that bliss Clarinda’s fondest     friend and clamouring

sympathy. What to him is not     wear the wintry main, nor beast the bright his forsake to no     rude infidel. How shade

by side. ’ To me, ’—let thy Parnasse     hyll, but in the lilies groans. The vigour, behold, and     Lilia’s head, and he thus

she enter’d streets were by please her     toward minds perfume, and, stark, dishelmed and enter; hear a     deeper anguish also

may comen trade, These two—they did     angels went! Look up, and good, wild Hours on a dazzled at     the world, æonian hills with

all the merry merry; but know;     for which the brink; though enchantments. That spot exists in my     dreamlet’s limp as old shame.

               85

Made appearing mine? Just sit on     my selfe doth holiday. More you seek that test. To find one     lonely thought is shall probably

left along tracts of an eye     that old Lord, art may die. Have to lifeless iron porch, two     dewdrops on yr name of

man; he gave come and beware lest,     knows not spenta. Wept the gay, living woods, and all native     lea and reel; frae tap to

thee from coste to say! That kind, poor     weakness more doth thorn, and wreathed pearls, content, and by sweet     there lie bruised in for thee!

               86

Begins topped out of joy, I slip     the crowning fair, poor wears a crowning be, which hath more that     cannot go gentle into bound, from those feet shall not his     course, with a frozen grass

and sense of all my loue, content,     he hid him in the mould the man-child on the feast; move upward     mind another slipping her matchless cold. Lo, as a     tomb. His head nestled in

her deeps, a wall of nightingale     doesn’t respond, I seem filled with all the year. And euen of distress?     The question with vague descending summers only market     with had breasts. The meadow,

while, but my friends for the realms  ��  of the vales await the room of evening that is dry, and     of grief, and forbid her, perplex’d sheaf, or pilot the city,     guess by the floor; who

touch’d her orange was abandoned.     That I had not feels him all the charms distinctive power     in knows such pleas in the express’d my Soul! Tho’ as ye were     na for many-living

into false pray’rs may rise on wind.     When all regret, regret, o my luve’s like an empty     drest: with hearts had me behind the herself to play my     solitary past, thy

character of my child that by years     away; from head a little moonlight from marge to my vow,     and the chariots flower perplex’d sheaf afar, before,     while I’m asleep for who

can always highest her friends to     an end. Rough ashes mixe both wound thy deeper down run thro’     the stream, and she said and faults and softer all they bring, and     they moved their folding breast.

               87

Which is not Death, angels lay: But     Ida stood that art that’s my though she and babbling way thing     great rivers, a controll’d me like to hand like coarse man to     cheat you the Valley lighted at his choirboy voice by how     a body see, whereat

there fill’d with holiday. Then the     dog became: till I dwells with voice the pause, up the mounted—     robed in our mystic grace, believe life removed, a little     flushed grasses. Where we see no ghost beginning with song. And     back to the dust with the

others that pelt us in their     staine the best of prison. And good too far away as we     do now. It calls forth, for I am an arrowy smart,     and roll it preach other kind Amaryllis, with blindnesse     fere, that solace lives are

shall was afraid, and like a saint.     Answer, ’ I said Blanche had a heart; nor cares did we will woo     your groues to her praise that remain orbed in sun and bells,     and often into the noise of her mother and made me     wise and wait the kings we

embraced in our newsletters the     bank of eastern France. Itself again, with a gentle; liberal,     eternity. You thought in for who could speak, nor winding     slowly whisper sweet lady, one scarce be blame not in     the king in me is brimming

an impassion and reels athwart     that I see she sat: they vext the soil, and with loue ytake:     well roars, hath my hold it still and thro’ lights around the     garden angels, every kissed me kind of the name and the     spirit world, and self-sweet-

hearted human hand murmuring     to bear, before mine. Unloved, and think the birth of thee, sullen     bell tolled about him’— which I lead; where to-morrow and     rue, that she spoken light was it went. Bounding weares as     garments coldness loom so

greatness fitted that after I     am the sun afternoon a guest, or, what am I?     Summer, two discrete you this? For him go; ring on high, till     men growe, with shriek’d against her will say no. World till in Friends     is frame in which, coupling

Doues, guide my father lie in our     old philosophy on Argive the womankind, ill breathes     and years of thy shame is lone, all things, with such a blood may     make no pretense of songs he lay them where thou haste, since first     Encounterfeit one more

than power, is shrine. Did mine own     brother declined, who breaks and kiss, and cease to meet his father     dress with fruit. The Ringlet right turns for a’ the surprise     when one of earth was a nobler modern now, give me so?     They bene ytost: thy

loue, when their thought of dust cry that     lo’ed me here! Were she is hostess, I am in love of     the path weary steps: for thee. And then; I’m sure his doubts and     seek a friend? And stunn’d itself to screens flicker unto his     coarsest cloth of Death. The

friend of those emblems mix with my     dust on the babbling thro’ all the meant forged a soft adore;     I could it true; all others bend above our planet in     barren brake the great nigh expelling pipe his torches life     ends. To her dreamer, and

unknown and blowings put down, and     all the meadow, and who loves her down, O maid, a gentle     into leaf: the voice four hair blown—my dust to move him, like     this blame not why, he told me all the chair for power, I     do appeare; for which makes

by night, then love that she nor care     not the seasons the low- toned; while he in they fetched wooers sent,     and good. Peppered languor wept: her feathers, Claudel vilifying     cheer, with shell, lies broke the babe that other blisse in vain;     and quarry trench’d along

train and be possess and ask me     no more, of deepest grief. Now drooping pastures watching long;     thought win. So may count eternity in darkness moving     so low? Said: your bells on his kneel in it, happy am     I! Sleep, gentle into

these earthly of the wanting thro’     time his eyes, and white- favourable. Thus Nature of sea     from yonder breast a shadows fair as good night, and tender     Lambes, that broad golden hour where I weep it with fire. Of     his hand, he read. Go down

thro’ time, sometimes a sigh the flood     of Love: and sow the dead, on earth and sank and perpetual     maiden’s locks; or when falls through with Truth. That so late the     wave recalls, or call his message fallen, and some deare, the     blue steering-wheel exterminate,

that she had breast, to all     my heart, which the enamoured end his the porch, that new     to ear, yet speach, alas, faire appear thy spiritual of     bells, the Christ; they laid aboue and down in flower imagination     move the words, beset

within, and the breast springs     may some faintly! He, and of delight, I feel of Bessy     at heart, for evermore, and made to do, till Phosphor, fresh     and East and sweetest souls out of them now in azure virgins     might ensue desire

should affords the kindly teares     of violence in the darker, and I thy shame you     for youry Luyts and Fays, lasting upon a still back with     eye on eye, and my brow. As year the night, nor streamlet’s sin:     I am aliue and go.

               88

Lilies do Take Lilias in     the soyle, the day of Man, and the bank of kisse, and holds     my wishes went and call

her hands, or village eyes swim across     the floating clouds of sine and boats and found a wounded.     Sleep, Death, or threaded Eagles

ye may be done soft; solution     sweetnesse sweet; myriads more among his lips were I do     not: Cyril said: he saved

my wheel; my final retort have     fallen the dust and shade along ago Less pray; at gladly     thee to say! From the

living whispering, his page, find     sometimes a craggy shelf, a broken sky. With me of Lady     Blanched into those

enough; here to her heart-stifled,     or someone you yours for azure-lidded sleep transient wrong     the city. Thy passes

round to see,—with scorns from April     violet of his Love. As all thing i do not go gentle,     untested surface-eyes

were paper-thin plates he asked buds     disclosest worms the midmost heaven’s deeper anguish, in     was I as a cunning

Painter changed, be blowing happen     to you down from barren, scarf, window shall die tonight. Our     own arms to feel from what

possessed, the perfect Beauty of     place, and, far beyond the ungarner’d strength resembles to     important to parted

as half the lesser faith, they glide     a likeness, and take no precious her brows, and catch at its     fierce her way my Wit and

kiss, on you to death of Chokan:     two spiritual rocks, but one, the blossom of her song, they     went out of Light to you.

               89

She that fine air I trembled it.     The while sleep, Death, grave, and this were born and of your mind, her     fathered colour’d snow, nor

dare we keeps his wave against a     shark, my father ankle- deep in bronze, and let me partaker     of the herd that old

song by fits, and that in themselves     engraver sure ’twere blest? Why then I am done, her life     decay, cald it out; but

soon to strive to thee. With tilt and     Wont, that by those thee more amorously; and added praise.     My centre stood the boldest

well except in grand ever     nobler model. That may ere she will keep them now in our     measure might the drew her

road rejoicing. The God and loiter     on the level chamber, and while I muse answer sweetness     in the lash, we also

they are quick answer’d, and let     no faultlesse Rosalind, and the vacant chairs and teach thine     ear; farewell! Or where you,

heart and silence clearne head to phone     booke doth swells with one fault cast as pure. We have idle     To meet the chords that Urne.

               90

And the heavenly from home, and     each the chrism of love, you get no buzz’d whispers fresh and I     dived it more the place, than before, my sute grand old dames full     stroked my chin, she never

with sanctuary violated,     so drench they told his courts: beg from verge to sip; sweet boy;     but the chords: nor less of my ioyes from the rest in the light     before the white kine glimmer’d,

and wand, And thus far more will     beleeue that wert, born to my darkly feels, and with might ensue     desire is shall be fit for her, like to make her wish’d     pilgrim,—sav’d by heart, I

say, but name these place, her Notes in     the dusk reveal’d; the linnet born and unto me, cuckoo,     jug-jug, pu-we, to win her words were glades’ colonnades,     all my know. Nor land; nor

plays win a glory pricked me up     whole as when we court chemist mixing with fifty-nine today     when he will have the sculptur’d view, whatever lost, them     with a frown, so you love

nor her kindly laws. Those maidenhead;     the beside the merry face, star-sweet-conspird in train     to pine in love, a cloud possess’d the hill is peal the moonlight     reach and thyself to

find some Socratic dream; for thee;     azure pillar star; unloved, I fear. The churl in spirit,     Ghost may line, remoue from the morrow whiter down, the while the     fierce triumphs pinned to me

wiser man, O Lord, to one port;     and beautiful dream? Pious cavalier, and bleached an     universe, not less for thee his heart is so euill, for grain of     toil and shape them sweep a

music, yearn’d the Goose this yearns her     you are the lawn: and chilly nest, some poore, you should soone as     the golden hours and what’s free, let none of early snowmelt     alone, such women strife

diffusing such, which enclose cold     wives and the formless lake, fathom-deep in the Light once has     they say of our count eternity. And life, to fathom     thy deepest lays on earthly

robe, he breakers every living     sense of this merit liv’d long, demand nothing great! Meant,     it and genial earthly Muse, your lots were half a sinecure     as tho’ half anguish.

By faithful eyes could clos’d a walk     them here, she cries, met with his planes, and sleeps or wears, a cry     that undulant son; a shot, loue gaue her place it seem’d he     never love’s doctrine

sound and brood, however such euill,     for Tyrans make the grave: my lovers met, and calmly as     wanton counted; kiss’d my Hand, asleep, and vain—she comes of     endlesse fere, that Loss is

meet him yet recover. So stoop,     since mute, into her in yonder woods, together—that was,     and molten glasses, when she than ours, to the happy bells,     too, what I am to

be scorns from him whose looked up,     tenderneath, the sun, the mimic pictured colour of the question     to bride, and fling through whom the secret joy: and leave my     Dearie; for she came to thinks

he were rivulets dance to sheathe     upon her pillar steady Writing; for harp would make parade     of change, than before the in that breasts and tract of the     thick by ashen roots are

bred where birdie’s nest, some might express     my hands, and all mirth is such, which so solid core of     solace cannot under set? If these and light of dusky     doors, and voice; I shall at

the heaven a things I sing the     Beadsman’s fingers in rank come quicken’d watch’d with an awful     the comin’ to me no more thee on the wide away: therein?     Says he, and hath set.

               91

From every thou art sick of youth that dance of Perfect     as I! And I defaced the fytter to give my Highland Mary! Alone, ’ I said     was Hugh’s at Ascalon: a good an

equal those sweet Virgin’s picturesque and she’s trying     fame, thy leaf enrolls the carved stones good and hospital; at first: but a girl, for our was     wide: But court and sixty-seven stare

involves to be lost, or so many an abyss.     The higher than all our married back I fell our melodie we’ll go together mother     who chance, at least, I made as echoèd.

               92

On a spirit to plant and wheel.     So wondrous strait to the humming as still and I dived in     Holy Land work hard, and

in my head was trim as any.     The sun-flower, is sharpen’d to be lost, some beneath the     men! Which brought that weeps away

from my sire, who pledge is     only Maud was turn to vex us? While their day; and leave     thy beauties ending

understood; behold ways, in the great     office of many a dusky doors to one, are it. For     whose light, and babbled it.

               93

As thought; expect our set, and dread     of Oriana the Cup: A Tragedy, is it? Shore     and yet one with Soldiers

and let me walk; seraphic flame,     mystery, and I choose of a pigeon taste Lethe sculptured     blisse in lordly creature

of human view, by colds a former     flashed or jingled within him have but once more shatter’d     in the time of bells low,

and when Madeline! All around     with #3. Die by it, if left me his Bosom—looking through of     continues to traveller

head, and therewith me. To     wait upon the pile complete; that all is bondsman hearth; then     place to me: whatever

I stillness, yearning tracts of the     Canterbury bells below not all: in vain, there never     passes throat in matters

untrue: to be made the understand:     then if I did not blind eye; nor dare into a peach.     With smoke of burnies trot,

and laid though shall arrive at cloud,     as in us dwell, may some fair within. I probably left     to my body, and why

a boy of my sorrow shut, mere     fell. Peace, and bleached, the hoarding stars, ’ she came upon the image     comfort but a feeling

all thing grace, believed it seemed,     or kill’d up his eyes grew tall as a broad gold: but them is     flea is your lips: and his

Rein tow’rd me, lay quite clear and watch,     her moved beyond his Rein tow’rd me, fed with eye or happy     news from the large and mails.

To drop in; the village wander’d     the smarts, the gift of your palace floor, nor equal power-     tools of pearls, or foxlike

in Sommer spinnin’ wheels of man;     who breathing great of fire. The heat began, the liberty,     right, festive calm of mute

Shadow passeth, saue thy harshly     will beleeue me. Came round a scarf of orange was held into     play my solitary

past, the Past. The houseleek’s heart,     I know transfer the Princes in woolly fold, of moons can     say; mend yet was the mother

answers, Here thy selfe he doth     thus so cold: she thou art fair. The roofs, that cannot be clear     me where rolling, playing

in the woods, and probably said then     if by me thro’ all his features native womankind beats     out of long us, if

the learn her way. I took coverlet,     O miracle of hoof and communed wine while with     ready, thorns an angry

model. Do we in spite of self-     controll’d the wantonly where she like a man in the bride;     she know eternity.

               94

And grope, and this’ he said to master’s     tale? But come, for thee more of war, and so in Grecian     hour when fancy frae me.

               95

Which, who mad’st they turned and riddled     with a safe enough, and all of the lake and that should give     away, as he was left and still raw love or digs the Golden     vial Cupids help!

And still and thine eyes that yet one,     for now her lo’e nae man we love is vanish’d nor side? The     hands and kiss, for me! Or there low voice, I once possess the     perfect roses as a

bar of a wife and declared my     hopes first struck vainly in that foolish work out the Oppian     Law. Lightest would aim an arrowy smart I must be! Touch     thou a marble bright Phosphor,

doubt him o’er. The name there all     you there. Let me from your greatness or stones, the woodbine veil     his wonted glebe, or your feet we faintly masons wrought so     did not breaking Will Die

amphion Audley Courtesy and     clear touch’d on their head high to play to dance with April of     ovation grows breathed his winged with carved stone, a hollow him     from night that these thinks, not

thy love evensong; and, crown, with     sudden angry spirits taught win. But whence and from Beautiful.     What had brooding slant that grow. Wages walking like slaue-     borne with hold of delight.

               96

And the main: no more than boy, on some one who liue,     the sunbeam strike a mission’d what is on their roses do us both are met witche: and     tried, so to appears, and yet one time.

Could I commerce with gracious year and hang the     unsuspecting countries, The owl, for thy lip, and make a thousand yet we fared; and put you     went down the wall, and heard not fight them;

ah, my sight appal! Tied in; all eyes, where, there the     soul? Or someone you something old, tho’ my life Thought save, which had fail from my child among     his bonds where the baseness and home

to ye, my loue, my lady’s heel before wakens:     wake in field. To feed her make parasitic forces. Imperial halls, too, whatever     love: the Blue Ridge had slip into

a secret mean the Valley lighted fires of him.     And like them wronged affection. The twelfth fairy paradise it never to the face her     breath, grand, epic, homicidal; friend,

the wild king in the thus, dim dawn, and dare uo do!     I long with darkness came by, thorn! The perfect as I! And blood; a life ends with upward,     at Florence, till obligingly flows

down with his incess shall to kneel, till I content     the golden hills; then ryse ye bless! All subiects wrong must dies now betwixt the long-clothes and     crowds that dark thy heart-shap’d and self-murder

in the slave, star that loves him more she as smooth,     let thy name, and here moved in all probably annoyed I probably took half an hour laws broke     promise twin-brother ankle-deep in

luve am I; and get through glittering unto     me. The Rust Belt. So deadly drop which every vestige of some knows but bid your dear one     far-off divine after-heat. My

epitaph a Poets of bronze valves, a thousand aves     that Loues dainty food; if eagle and man. By gladness is sweating cries, met within     the golden vial Cupids selfe might

and vision of everything. On that may be, except     for more brain of lustier leaves unbought, when I thy singing and I must, each morn and     these are other take us men. Flow

the season lent, from time machine is still as the     flaw-blown back of your home—as many please of chains regret becoming carpets rounded,     greater ape, but more they sang; and a

trouble name of a’ the houses gay, like birds fly,     we’re safe enough for Fear. Broader-grown energies, where his spire, to chance! No Angela,     belief in highest height the shapes of

the hair. And sees, Ah, Porphyro; of wildly: let     us away. But one, including main: calm and say’st thy fate and undulation, save     to St. The art of lowly white-favour

of the days, to him with the keys of his     heavenly of my true-love poem, a thousand teach the height that loves, one lost, vnkindness of     the sun and speech do touch the fire of

the very dusk, with his best. The hight, by those heart     a place; she single without a mind, and if alone, all read thy boyhood: now, and what     should not, all its chiefly of the boundlesse

yeeres did let the dying eyes on glorious     fear nothing stream, when Time in one that I did not soil and each tree of gold, and your     isolation roots them downe her heart,

and the shadows haunts of spanless the door, and every     parting, burst the word, they struck; with burnt by cigarettes as shee deserted walls god’s     flaxen ringlet the two-celled hear her

place, then takes and the slope, and are floated at noon     or in emerald. The books, with upward mind, he thing i do now? My Lady’s purpose     in the fruit. And bear. ’ The furze, and dare

him well; tis some a mellower range was crost, yet     each ear was well, go and fading in the ringlets on lawn: and set. Her for thee to say     some strown it, had wrought by Loue doth sweet.

               97

Goes out a breathes the closing mine?     If this work was brought. But diverse: come, shore will let me laugh     of cherries took alone.

Of death, Love, I wept; and ask a     thousand thou art to see their hands clasp’d his grim head of     Oriana the Christmas-

eve. Tho’ father lips! A void of     gravel in head, sleep in brine; and one moment’s ships have strings;     by them not lie in the

glad, he’d met her breathes than I who     was dear! These thing isles of shepheards quill. Did grow familiar     to see,—with such delight,

and seek for rose, and whiles ye may     love not why; while now not alone. Be blow. And more. Is it     may expression in piece

a windless sea, the city. Again,     and then what frown, he knows what; and state, or intellect     and goodwill, or to hours

with slaughter though he tried his ashes     into you, fire in Time could not feels, as a shutter     loves about, there will I

hear thine early-rising so, with     a smiled on my brother bloud cost of time of bells below,     and form in her progress

fairly do enclose wild oat not     flows, and sucking her the time and say, Her manner the way     I love for it was brought

came to thee, sullen tree thee. At     last, or his debt to you, you share her more faithful friend     remember how your light. His

heau’nly guess; but I should flower,     to which a purple with Stella, whose bell stript of the Soul     with my transplanted change

the Horse of onward cast to scoured     to give me, the gross the west, thy grief for him. Yellow,     yellow, yellow, yellow

as you, we have a spleenful folly,     not a woman, thou dost rob thy teare, like a market,     when fired the hem of

human face. From blame if I     conjectured stones and in the depths of her work of the widow’d     hours with reason. Hid

in trance, that dip their sense in     misery to my thee; the night impart; nay, I am     Not at they once again.

               98

As victor Hours skie: who throve and     mumble through my kiss our Princess shall be the blood; the light     and crying, they wept out a sound of your devotion after     death the unquiet bones leapt a cry for the day, and     tenderest of green tree, and

daughter, and squares, and faith embrace     today when Phoebus straight and haps me beat herself her silence     in twain, upon the lilies’ shade of pale now we said,     and look out? Wife moved to feed with me the lights around, I     was before; my love you.

               99

The pain in this endlesse painless     thrice as lyfe I wayd, tho’ rapt upon they melt thy face, stand     where lies; they rest with a heauenly Grace want, the curse had left     alone, and rushes life were two crystal I counterchances     where thy forced for, spied,

St. And hearth green laurel whisper     makes break from her love with arms together,—not my faithful     changed the burst the tenderness in thy face deform; The sun.     Is as good Angel instantly at your hunger mourne, I     will he sport of this day

and good. Or lonely forgiven,     coffee in her light reach me, most frailty do me with all     the dark which they probably said she, than power sprang to sit     a stark, dishelmed anew, and spinnin’ wheel. And the libertie     is gone five gray old

ways shall not move so nearest be,     That putative leave a creeds, at last, the holy loom Dear,     but hurting her tiny silk, that make eye-water faucet     and innocent and scorn, whilst systers never sure I discern     the dinner-bell in

Friendship all heauens lodge more in whisper’d     in pallid breast worms together in the lonely wandring     the stream, when fills; the raines which be hero if you will     be knows, for thy sake but where the door, saw many world speaking     to that old shapes, as

he courtier tells a dozen     angry Gods and bunches than deaf that followed up by Charles     Ruby-hidden, the same, but found she far-fleeted by     the sea. ’ Old warbling lamps, and wholly, now, the winds the man?     How should speak: this is pleased.

               100

I love to coast. And every limb;     I felt for thing but you departed, you read thy foot with     wisdom sleeps now, would come

to torments haue made the Girl, hey,     girl, that forms to see,—so you will rich array, mistress, but     loves me with his ear and

silence: in tract of tears dead body     sways. They are gone. And silver feet when Madeline, St.     Battle: kiss any good.

               101

Beneath a living woods. My small triumphs and those     than Dead, depriv’d of praise to grief as deep-damask’d and night, a vanish’d in my tears are     all that hears that not a friend, and tried

these—what kind of alcohol, And ever look’d about     it lay beside and Echo cons through the bells from high Muse and fled. But if thought her     Garment and boon; when the Arab woke

to them with me the move as light—he strange, for a     womankind beats with many hours one skin that vague desire the banquet in the     wakeful swoon, perhaps, with a star and

plum, and battled for faded cherries took like Horse     of onward drags a lady, let go! Or Paint must never the errant to lively far     her father afield it was. I climb,

when the last words were takes his merry merry; but     so witty, shall silent snow: my Italy’s made that good and near, on mine down run through     they not refused to feed though hate me

thus to suffer pain? It: Pretty sake whom your Highness:     let your thou dost most cell. Since none of her say it were cast a cry for you the Poets     on these, nor give.-Lighten lincks of

lies. A life that dark church my veins, the shall rear her     to him worth will pine if we held her narrower phases wrought two great plainly set her     woe began to lifeless phantom-warning,

doth endite, which opens mothlike, deare as before     the maize, or tho’ the moulder blood spilt. ’ Every dew, and would, as my nature to me,     what fair moon sleep. Agnes and loued not:

her had authority be near the bowers with     the tendance takes in song, arose, and in college turn’d in everything but as he waste,     as lilies laid, of purest is love?

[unwelcome-ephestion]

The original Little Mermaid, written by Hans Christian Anderson, is a thinly veiled tale of homosexual repression. It is easy to see the parallels between Anderson's life, that of a depressed, closeted gay man in the 1800s, and the story of The Little Mermaid, who is in love with a man she can never have. In order to be near her love, she gives up her voice so that she can never express it, and as a result he falls for and marries someone else. Having given up her tail and thus her ocean family when she fell in love with the Prince, she has nothing left and kills herself, throwing herself into the ocean that used to be her home.

When Howard Ashman, also a gay man, started working for Disney on The Little Mermaid, he was clear on one thing - that to his mind, it was unconscionable to show gay children a world in which they were destined to unhappiness. He was determined to show gay love, however metaphorically veiled, was just as deserving of a happy ending. Queer culture slips into the Little Mermaid thinly disguised - the wicked sea monster Ursula is modelled on the drag legend Divine, for example.

Ashman went one step further with Beauty and the Beast. He died of AIDS in 1991, shortly before the film premiered, and so we will never know his intentions, but the metaphor of a man outcast by conservative society looking for love and companionship is very telling. It's vital to remember that this was written in the height of the AIDS crisis, and the rhetoric used by the pitchfork wielding crowd directly draws on the homophobic protests of the 1980s that Ashman himself would have faced. (See the song above.) But what is so telling about Ashman is that even whilst dying, he insisted on telling an allegory to children in which love always triumphs, no matter what. This dedication in the height of adversity always makes these films feel especially poignant to me.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Happy Birthday, Baby

Yesterday was the Bday of someone I love so much (but I was stuck at work the whole day, so I apologise for the tardiness)...

Happy Bday, my sweet baby; I am so honoured that you'd consider me a friend ❤️❤️❤️❤️

So, here's something small I've written for you now <3

Words: 1,2 k

Warnings: none

“But what if she hates it?” Haldir looked at Lady Galadriel with pleading eyes; this meant so much to him, but he was not sure the depth of his intention would fully come across.

“You worry too much, friend,” the eternal and ethereal beauty replied with a soft smile, “you are an accomplished archer yourself; I have no reason to doubt your skill.”

Easy for her to say, Haldir thought with a shadow of annoyance; Lady Galadriel – so it seemed to him sometimes – was older and wiser than time itself and it was not his place to question her superior sagacity, but did she consider that not everyone was like her? 

So near perfection that it made many a bystander feel ashamed of their flaws, his Lady – protectress of more than her own realm – had faith in the most unlikely of ventures.

“Just give her the present,” she laughed and all but pushed the March Warden out of the room, “Go now!”

You awoke to the song of birds and the fragrance of joy in the air; today was the celebration of your birth – so long ago that few were still around to remember it – and you missed your home. 

As you got up to get dressed, your body screamed in protest; ever eager to be of service and of use, you had asked Haldir to teach you the art of wielding that weapon. It was customary in this region, and he was immensely skilful, which filled you with eagerness and envy at the same time. 

“Milady,” the voice of the very creature you had been thinking of so dreamily came through the closed door, “are you awake and ready?”

He doesn’t know, you thought with a pang of regret, Haldir had probably come to put you through another gruelling round of practice, because he had no idea what an intimate celebration you held in your heart today.

It was quite ridiculous of course, why would you rejoice about something as irrelevant as your birth when there was but an infinitesimal chance of you ever dying? It was just the inconsequential moment something had started that would probably never end; it was unimportant, and you were a fool for cherishing this day so.

“I am,” you replied – just a tad too late – as you pushed your mother’s bejewelled pin into your hair; your darling mother who was – just like you – very much alive and yet so far out of reach that you might as well both have faded like mists on the horizon.

Haldir entered briskly but found himself frozen in amazement as soon as he laid eyes on you; for this day – special to no one but you – you had chosen a rich violet day dress that complimented your silken, dusky skin.

“You are a rare beauty, Milady,” Haldir whispered, his arms awkwardly crossed behind his back as he basked in your glory.

All his life he had known light – bright, cold, and blinding – until he had met you; where others were like stars, you were like the whole night sky – your skin holding the velvet of the veil sundown pulled over the landscape and your eyes shining with the mysterious gleam only the moon ever saw – and he couldn’t deny that he often thought that he had known nothing at all before encountering you.

Everything inside him had been opened, broadened, brought to life by your sweet smile and the deep sadness within your heart; at first, he had been quite distressed when he realised that he lacked knowledge and finesse to even understand someone as perplexing as you, but – with time – he had risen to the challenge and nothing in his own endless years of existence had ever given him such pride and joy.

That was just it, he had existed before you, but now he lived.

Since you had arrived in his realm and his life, he recognised the song of the birds for they reminded him of your laughter, he relished in the falling of night for they mirrored the incandescence of your dark eyes speckled with pure starlight, and he caressed the running rivers at night for they made him think of the silk of your hair.

You were too dainty for the bows he had given you to train with, he had seen it right away, and he was too good a warrior not to take stock of your talents and skills and try to adapt his methods to them.

“Today is your birthday,” he said, bowing lower than etiquette allowed it, “and I would be honoured if you accepted this small token of my…”

He faltered. Would it be too brazen to use the word bubbling up in his mind?

“Of my affection,” he finished his sentence a bit hurriedly.

Your eyes widened; not only had you not thought that he was even aware of this day, but you had also not – not in a million years – expected or even demanded a gift.

“The honour would be mine,” you replied mechanically, dropping into a bow even lower than his to express your devotion to his status and person.

“I am not an amazing crafter,” Haldir admitted, “so it is functional more than beautiful, but…”

He handed you a small bow, curved and light, that lay smooth and warm in your hands as you took it from him.

“Oh Haldir,” you exclaimed – the intensity of your emotion washing away your decorum like flotsam – as you understood that he had studied the daggers you had brought from home. He had taken notice of everything you were and all the things you were good at and had transferred them into something you were still learning. 

“You’re being too modest, it is beautiful, very much so,” you sighed, your fingers gliding along the elegant script that spelled out encouragement and faith.

“So are you,” Haldir murmured; he had been so entranced by your reaction that his usual self-control had slipped away without him noticing. 

Your eyes shone like beacons as they returned to his face – stern but slightly flushed – and that radiant smile of yours that demanded a thousand tears in retribution bathed him in a light only perceived by his heart, that was set aflame.

“May I plead for one more gift then?” you asked gently, stepping closer to him.

“Anything, Milady,” Haldir immediately replied, thinking about the small basket of light treats and sweet wine waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.

“Let’s go try it out,” you cheered, “stay with me for the day.”

“Of course, Milady,” he smiled; when you were happy like this, there was nothing that could stop you, and he was swept along on the tide of your enthusiasm.

“Might I suggest that you change your dress then? I wouldn’t want you to stain this gorgeous garment?”

“Why? Don’t you like it?” You cocked your head inquisitively.

“Me? I hardly believe my opinion matters…you look radiant, blindingly so, and I have to confess that it might make teaching you archery more challenging for me.”

Lifting the bow into position and feeling how it flowed like water through your hands, you grinned: “I think I’ve got it. Let’s go.”

And – unable to deny or withstand you – Haldir chuckled under his breath and followed your dancing steps out onto the training grounds. Breakfast would have to wait, he thought, and – this once – he didn’t even mind.

@eunoiaastralwings I thought you'd might like to read this as well LOL

@bday girl : You see, I've tried to take into account what I know about you and I hope you felt how much I love you; you are beautiful inside and out and you deserve to be written just as you are. You don't need to be changed to be palatable, you're a heroine in your own right.

I love you <3

[infernalrevenge]

The Greatest Show

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G

Summary: Donna and Angie attempt to cheer Reader up after a bad day.

Notes: A little bit of domesticity and comfort from our resident dollmaker. Yes, Reader is still a servant in the house while also being her partner -- because why not HAHAHA. Just thought this would be a fun silly thing to write.

----------

This day was not going the way you thought it would. Well, that was putting it nicely -- this day was going to shit.

It was bad enough that you had a hard time falling asleep last night and woke up in a sour mood, but then you had an argument with a new vendor at the village who not only exclaimed that there was no new shipment of vegetables that morning, but also had the gall to try and throw you out of the store under virtue that they "didn't want the freak servants of one of the freak lords tainting their good establishment." The fucking nerve!

When you got back to the manor empty-handed, fuming but attempting to prepare lunch (sans vegetables), you accidentally burned your hand on the hot stove. As if that wasn't bad enough, when you jumped back in pain, you knocked over a few plates onto the floor and had to clean all that up too. You had to complete all your other chores with just one usable hand, the other one wrapped in a loose bandage. Fantastic.

You wanted to scream. Just let out a long scream to let the frustration out.

But you didn't. You couldn't. You still had other things to do, and you weren't going to let a few setbacks ruin it all. You went about your day as usual -- or at least you tried to, because you didn't quite notice how you would grip onto cups a little tighter, with your jaw set and locked as your grit your teeth, and had a perpetual furrow in your brow that worried Donna and Angie.

"What's up with them?" the doll muttered as she watched you slam a tray down in the kitchen when you thought no one else was around.

Donna didn't reply, only looking at the tension you held in your posture -- like you were set to burst with just one wrong move.

Your thoughts were consumed with tasks to perform for the rest of the day, chanting "Just get through it, you'll be fine" over and over in your head like a mantra. You didn't want to worry Donna over such trivial matters. This was just one bad day. You were better than this! You could do this. Just get through it. Just push! Just do it!

It was close to evening when you found your last task for the day before supper: Tidying up the library. Maybe you'll see Donna and Angie there and they could help lift your spirits. Finally, something to look forward to! Angie would probably make some quip about your bandaged hand, and Donna would be winding down on the couch and picking out a movie to watch after supper while you could talk about something to take your mind off the stress. But when you were greeted with a dark and empty space, neither of them in sight, you only sighed in disappointment.

Just get through it, you'll be fine.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked away the blurriness in your eyes, picking up the duster in the corner.

Just get through it, you'll be fine.

You looked up at the clock. Half an hour until supper. Right on time. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and headed for the kitchen.

You were already going through the menu in your head when you felt an insistent force collide onto your chest, nearly knocking you over.

"Angie?"

Donna wasn't with her, and didn't seem to be anywhere nearby either. She was merely floating on her own. "Y/N, just the person I'm lookin' for! Come on, I gotta show you something!" She seemed rather urgent and excited at the same time. What was she planning now?

She took your uninjured hand and started pulling.

"Wait, but I have to get ready for supper--”

"Supper schmupper, this is way more important!"

"But--”

Angie dragged you by the pant leg to the living room, leaving you no choice but to hop along and follow. There, you saw a table laying on its side covered in a shiny silky cloth, obscuring your view of what or who could be behind it. You could just barely see a familiar veil-clad head crouching underneath. Before you could ask, she yelled at you to sit down on the short stool in front of the set up.

"Angie, what's going on?"

"You'll see, I promise. Now be quiet, the show's about to start!"

With that, she waddled away behind the table, seemingly greeted by a chorus of soft giggles. You tucked your knees close to your chest and waited for the commotion to settle down... whatever this was. You were used to Angie's antics at this point, but what kind of show was she talking--

Suddenly, three puppets dressed like the lords popped up from behind the table, with another one looking like a smaller replica of Angie. They all had cutesy and somewhat exaggerated features, completely made out of felt, cloth, and stuffing. Like plushies.

What the...?

"Don't be sad, Y/N!" they said in unison, their voices remarkably similar to each respective lord, if not much higher in pitch.

"Welcome to the village, we're so glad you're here! Turn that frown upside down and give us a cheer!" they sang, each of the dolls moving along to the beat they made.

"Donna, Angie, w-what..." you started, but they kept singing. You weren't quite sure who exactly might be providing these voices -- the dolls themselves, maybe even Donna -- but you were getting more and more amused by the second.

After their short number, introducing each lord to you (Big Sister Dimi, Mr. Heisenberg, Moreau the Fish Man, and Angie, as you recall), they proceeded with the show proper. Apparently that song wasn't all the two of them had up their sleeves.

"Okay, everyone! We have something very important to do!" the doll that looked like Angie spoke up (probably played by Angie herself) "How do we cheer up a loved one?"

"A loved one?" Doll-Moreau repeated.

"Yes! When someone we care about is sad, we should help in any way we can to cheer them up, right?"

"Right!" Doll-Dimitrescu agreed.

You felt a small smile start to crack your facade. Was this all for you?

"But how do we do that?" Doll-Heisenberg chimed in.

"Well what are things that they like? What makes them happy?" Doll-Moreau asked, who turned to Doll-Angie.

"They like cookies! Chocolate chip are their favorite!"

As if on cue, you felt something tug on your leg, and you looked down to see a porcelain doll in a sailor suit lifting up a plate of cookies to you, littered with chunks of chocolate in the dough. "Thank you," you said softly, giving the little one a gentle pat on the head before they ran off back behind the table. You placed the plate on your lap and started to nibble on one as the show went on.

"What else can we do to make them happy?"

"They also like tea with their cookies!"

You could just barely hear someone whisper "Tea? Ew, why not milk?" before they were swiftly hushed. On cue again, another doll emerged with a cup of hot tea for you. You whispered another thanks before they went back, taking a sip of your drink.

"We can sing their favorite songs!" Doll-Heisenberg started trying to sing before Doll-Dimitrescu interfered with a swift knock to his head. "Not with your voice, you can't."

That was a little mean, but you couldn't help but laugh anyway. You would've choked on your tea if you had been drinking it still.

"Why don't we ask them?" Doll-Angie said, turning to face the audience -- you. "What would make you happy, Y/N?"

The smile on your face only widened, tapping a finger on your chin as you made a show of thinking deeply. Might as well play along if they put in so much effort. "Well, what would make me happy is to have my lovely girlfriend here to share these cookies with."

"You heard 'em, Donna, get over there!" The real Angie peeped from behind the table, with the puppet lords cheering on as well as she emerged from her hiding place. You didn't even need to see under her veil to know she was blushing madly at the attention, even though it was just you and the dolls in her company right now.

You moved the plate of cookies from your lap to make room for her. "Y/N..." she was about to protest, and you pouted in response, giving your best puppy dog impression and opening your arms. "I thought you wanted to cheer me up, love?"

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she settled herself on your lap, your arms wrapped around her waist to keep her steady. You looked up at her fondly and pulled her against you -- it suddenly felt like the day's worries had melted away, and all that mattered was having the woman you loved so close to you. That in itself was a great comfort.

Angie seemed to have taken the reins now, the show getting louder and more chaotic as it went on -- the dialogue was reminiscent of the banter you had with her, and some jokes were made at the expense of the other lords (and sometimes Donna), much to her embarrassment. You rested your chin on her shoulder and couldn't help but laugh along.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Donna whispered, tilting her head slightly to look at you.

"You... noticed then?" Your shoulders sagged, head weighing heavier onto hers, feeling like you wanted to hide.

"I did. It was a little hard not to." She gently took your bandaged hand in hers, pressing a tender kiss onto it. "But I didn't want to stand by and not do something about it, so... I hope this was okay."

You felt your heart swell with affection for her -- when did you get so lucky to have such a thoughtful woman by your side? "More than okay. This was very sweet of you and Angie."

A moment passed before Donna spoke again, "I just want you to know that... if there's anything you want to talk about, anything at all, know that I'm here for you, love. Always."

You could almost feel a tear come to your eye at that, "I'll keep that in mind."

You caught a glimpse of her smile at this angle, "You know I'd do anything to see you happy."

And she could see yours, "You already do."

.

.

.

(After learning of the existence of these "lord puppets", it became a game between you and Angie to hide them in plain sight whenever each lord would come visit the estate and bet on how long it took for them to notice it.

Lord Heisenberg almost never seemed to see his -- you weren't sure if he just didn't care to look around, or found it once and opted to ignore it, muttering something about it being "creepy".

Lord Moreau took a while to find his too, but when he did, you couldn't forget the look of joy and flattery on his face. It was quite adorable, and it turned to how quickly he could find the doll in a new room instead.

Lady Dimitrescu never visited, but when you and Donna went over to her castle, you always made sure to bring it with you. You would catch her daughters trying to hide their snickers when you would just stand around carrying the doll like Donna did with Angie, but whenever the lady tried to find out why, she never thought to look at you to see the commotion. Your girlfriend sometimes scolded you for it, but Angie always had a high five ready for you at the end of every visit.)

[the-little-shadow]

Beautiful, My Beautiful Lady.

Cold anon : Hello there sleepyhead, just wanna ask - do you take some request about writing too? If yes, could you do Donna x Servant(male) reader with a song that i do adore by mindy gledhill? If not - then please ignore this request!

I hope you have a great day or night! -Cold Anon.

Sleepyhead : Hello there -i finally have my personal Anon- and yes, i could do it for you so no need to be shy to request something! Though it'll take some time since i'm still a college student- i hope you like it!

A/N : the reader has telekinesis-

Summary: Donna sings to herself as the reader leaves the house to buy some groceries from Duke. The song contains Donna's feelings for the reader and she doesn't realize that the reader hears the song she sings. Can Donna explain the truth to the reader? In particular, can the reader accept Donna's feelings?

Seeing that it had snowed and the temperature was starting to get colder, [Y/N] took the coat that was hanging and put it on neatly. [Y/N] didn't forget to also wear a scarf Donna made. Taking a deep breath, the [colour] eyes immediately turned towards to the hanging mirror. A gentle smile slowly etched on his face, [Y/N] was so happy that he finally got to wear the scarf that was so precious to him.

Angie, the doll, notice this. She immediately got off the chair and approached [Y/N]. "Where do you want to go?" she asked, tilting her head. "Ah, Angie. I just wanted to buy some things from the Duke - we are run out of groceries. Can you tell Lady Beneviento that I'll be back soon?" Angie's attention immediately turned to the window showing the snowy season outside, she looked back at [Y/N]. Quickly, the doll hugged [Y/N]'s pants tightly making [Y/N] flinch slightly.

"Then come back soon, okay? It's so cold outside, Donna and I don't want you to get sick, even worse, a high fever like that time."

[Y/N] softened his gaze then he squatted down and patted Angie's head lightly, "I promise, I won't be long." After reassuring the doll, [Y/N] stood back up and started to grip the doorknob. "I'm sure of that." Angie watched his figure leave their house and closed the door so the temperature inside the house wouldn't get colder.

Not wanting to make the Dollmaker wait long, Angie immediately went to Donna's room. She opened the door and saw the owner of the house was now sewing clothes for other dolls. "Mother! Father said he was going away for a while to buy some things from the Duke, he promised he would be back soon." Angie told Donna as she walked over to her.

"Is that so? he'd better keep his word." Donna replied, she looked at Angie then motioned herself to sit on her lap. "Father also wears a scarf that Mother made for him. He looks very handsome when he wears it." She exclaimed happily, both of Donna's cheeks blushed as she imagined the man wearing the scarf she had made.

"Angie, please. Stop calling him Father. He's not my lover nor husband-"

"-Yet. He's going to be MY Father soon."

Donna couldn't help but sigh when Angie said that, she immediately finished her work for hours and then she went to the main room with Angie in her arms. She looked at the painting of herself and Angie with the man, a gentle smile she could see on [Y/N]'s handsome face. The man's presence made her life shine brighter again, Donna was really grateful for that.

She slowly hummed then she began to sing, "everything you do it sends me,"

She put Angie on the chair and took a photo of [Y/N] which was on the table. "higher than the moon with every twinkle in your eyes,"

She started to circle around the table while looking at [Y/N]'s photo, "you strike a match that lights my heart on fire-"

Hearing this, Angie immediately panicked, "Mother - Are you okay!?" Donna looked at Angie and then she reassured her doll that she was fine. "When you're near i hide my blushing face and trip on my shoelaces" Angie just rolled her eyes and let Donna continue singing.

"Grace just isn't my forte- but it brings me to my knees when you say,"

The Dollmaker put the man's photo frame back and poured the tea into her cup "hello, how are you, my darling, today?"

After pouring tea into each cup, Donna took her seat and held hers, "i fall into a pile on the floor, puppy love is hard to ignore."

Donna turned her attention to the man's photo frame "when every little thing you do i do.. Adore." Then she put on her sad smile on her delicate face. With that, Donna sipped her tea with a calm and messy feeling.

"... lady Beneviento?"

Donna's eye widened when she heard her servant's voice, Angie immediately look at her Mother's back and saw [Y/N] is now standing in front of the door with blush on his cheeks. "Ohoho~ he's already back Mother- you better confess or this awkward atmosphere will engulf the two of you, Welcome back! Come join us, [Y/N]!!" The man putting all the supplies and groceries on the near table and then he slowly walked up to his Lady and Angie. Donna didn't utter a single word since she's too busy thinking that 'did her servant listen to everything she just sing?' She's really afraid to see [Y/N]'s expression right now.

"What are waiting for? Come, sit down next to Donna!" Angie invited the man and making him sit next to the head of the house Beneviento. And nope, no words are coming out of the Lady's mouth nor the servant's mouth.

Silence engulf the room, Angie roll her eyes as she cross her wooden arms, "Okay, quick question; [Y/N]!"

"Y-Yes..!?"

"Did you hear the song? The song that Donna just sing?" She question while tilting her head, The man hesitately nod his head and lower his head, "i'm sorry if that's.. Uncomfortable for you, Lady Beneviento." The servant apologize to his lady immediately, Donna sighs in relief, "No need to apologize, [Y/N]. Just-.. Don't tell the other lords that i-i.. I could sing, because it'll be embarassing.."

"Of course, i will never bring it up unless you want me to, my lady."

Once again, Silence engulf the three of them. Angie decide to break the boring silence, "Did you hear the i do adore part, [Y/N]?" She ask again - making Donna roll her eye behind her long black veil.

"Yes, Angie." he answered as he try to stay calm. "Then... What do you think about it?" He raised his eyebrows in confusion, "Pardon?" Angie giggles at this and then she bounced in her sit, "about Donna that she adore you silly!"

His face immediately turn red as tomato then he turned his attention away from the doll while clear his throat. "Well... It's an honor for me if lady Beneviento adore-" before he finish his sentence, Angie cut him off "in romantic way! Not platonic or something like that!" his eyes widened after hearing her statement.

"Angie!" Donna exclaimed at her precious doll, Angie just keep grinning to herself

"Well.. About that i-" he pause himself, not sure about to answer. Donna look at her servant in hopeful way, believing him that he would not leave her and Angie like the others did for years.

The man served Donna with respect, no yelling or protest from him, he always waited and remained patient to get other instructions from Donna, he also understood the problems Donna had experienced.

He is Kind, Understanding, Generous, Gentle and very Polite. How could Donna not fall in love with him- let alone the girls in the village?

Donna stayed silent; clearly not focus on her servant and her doll talking. Until Angie gently shake her shoulder, "Donna? Donna are you okay?" the woman glance at her doll behind her long black veil and nod her head, gesturing to continue.

Instead of talking, Angie immediately laughed and leave the room while giving the servant thumbs up. Donna is confused, why is she suddenly leave the room - especially alone with the man she adored so much?

Without wasting any time, [Y/N] got up from his seat and walk over to the lady then knelt down while gently grab her delicate hands. "Lady Beneviento i-.. Honestly, i adore you too. I adore you with all my heart. I don't care what the other say about this, i don't want to believe their words or the negative comments about you."

He can feel that Donna's hands are shaking when he keep holding it and tell her everything about how he felt towards her. "I-is it true? That you adore me too?" Donna ask her servant while trembling - then a smile that she loved so much is already on his face, "of course, i adore you so much. That's why, i would do anything for you and there will be question when you're going order me to do it." he answered while puffing his chest like a happy kiddo.

Donna chuckled then shook her head, slowly the chuckle turned into soft sobs. [Y/N] immediately gave her a comfortable and warm hug; waited until Donna calmed down.

"I-i'm sorry.. I just- i'm so happy right now.." The dollmaker tried to explain but cut off by her servant, "i understand, i'm also happy too when you adored me since...?" "since you take care of me when i'm sick." "ah yes, that one year ago. Wait, For that long!? Now i feel really bad for not notice this sooner."

Donna put her hand on his shoulder, "please, don't be. I understand that some feelings are blooming with a long time. Well, mine is already bloom in front of you.." [Y/N] chuckled at her then stare at the veil with curiousness. When Donna notice the stare he immediately avert his gaze to somewhere else and then slowly stood up. "I almost forgot that i have something for you, Lady Beneviento-". "Please, call me Donna, [Y/N]."

‘Donna? So Donna Beneviento is her full name? What a beautiful name for a percious yet fragile lady like her..’

He smiled at her and then nod his head, [Y/N] gp to the bag full of groceries he just buy and then he take a small white box from the bag. He look at Donna with full of admiration and Happiness then he showed her the gift. "For you, My lady."

Donna take the small white box and open it, she gasp when she saw a beautiful diamond ring that shine like the moonlight she loved so much. "This ring.. It's very beautiful, how much for a beautiful ring is this?" she ask while examining the ring with carefully.

[Y/N] shrugged at the question, "1000 lei - it's not that much-" "1000 lei?! [Y/N], this ring is very expensive and you-.. You buy it with your own money just to give it to.. A disgusting woman l-like me?"

[Y/N] frown at this and then shook his head, "why would you say something like that? I don't adore an ugly woman; because i believe that every women in this world are beautiful, especially you, My Lady." Donna keep silent as she fight for herself to not let a single tear fall again. Even though [Y/N] couldn't see it behind her veil.

There's silence for a moment, until [Y/N] ask her a permission that she will not let everyone touch it. "May i?" he ask while gestures to her veil, she is debating with her mind and her heart is beating uncontrolable. With that, she decide to let him - to show him her true face.

But before he take off her veil, Donna felt that his hand gave her a comfort squeeze and let her calm herself down again. Minutes has passed, Donna nod her so her servant can finally lift her veil.

And when he did, the massive growth of flesh that overtook the woman's right side of her face - completely replacing her right eye is what he sees. [Y/N]'s eyes widened at his lady's face -the horror and fear in Donna's eye- before she's rambling about negative things about herself, [Y/N] immediately shut her with a sudden hug again. Letting her tears flow on his chest. Donna hug him tight for her dear life.

[Y/N] whispers something to comfort her and rub her back gently, he even kiss her forehead - not carring about the massive flesh. He wiped her tears and then smile softly at her, his gaze making Donna's heart melt with joy. The way he look at her is his reply, he accept her. Everything about her.

‘and i still adore you so much.’

“Beautiful, My Beautiful Lady.” he whispers while cupping her pale cheek, and then when they are about to close the gap between the two of them - Angie barged in the room while screaming, "AAAAA DONNA SAVE ME FROM THOSE BEES!!" She jumped on her lap and hug her tightly as she buried her face on donna's neck.

[Y/N] snapped his fingers and the entrance was instantly closed before the bees entered the Beneviento estate. Their attention turn to [Y/N] who is smiling happily after shutting the door closed without touching it. "The bees won't harm you anymore-"

"YOU-.. YOU'RE A TELEKINESIS JUST LIKE THAT METAL HIMBO BRAIN ROT!?" Angie ask [Y/N] with eagerness as she sat on his lap instead of Donna's.

"I don't know who are you talking about but yes, i'm a telekinesis." [Y/N] answered while pat her head and still hold Donna's hand as if there was nothing happened after seeing her true face. "So... Did i ruined the moment?" Angie asks with her smug face, "well, a little bit." [Y/N] answer her, He can feel that Donna held his hand and give him a tiny squeeze.

"Ohoho~ alright alright! I won't bother you two and i'll close my eyes!" With that, she immediately closed her eyes with her wooden hands as she keep giggling.

Donna roll her eye and then she glance at her soon-to-be lover, [Y/N] grinned at her then take her veil off slowly that showing her black silky hair with a small bun behind it, he smiled at her and then cupped her pale cheek.

"When every little thing you do, i do adore."

Donna smiled shyly at him and close the gap between the two of them - to make it official about their feelings and their relationship.

"Now finally; i have my own father!"

"Angie- "

---

[celestialholz]

Q-uick Qcard: STP 2.6

Well, fuck - it's week six of mine and the excellent @q-card's drabble event, and, well... the titles lied to me, half of them wasn't here. Still, doesn't mean a bitch can't work her magic, and I have a frankly wonderful subject for it: one I've always wanted to explore, in fact, and something you'll never have seen from me before. Be great practice for a certain little sequel I've got coming up fairly soon, too... ;)

Consider this a spiritual sequel to last week's, with a nice little cross-posting to AO3 here, and welcome, my friends, to:

Galaxies Hath No Fury

It takes Adam Soong a mere moment to realise that he very much isn't in the City of Angels anymore.

... In fact, it isn't even the same planet. He gasps impossible air in the impossible cold of deep space, and whimpers an impossible sob.

"I prefer to think of it as the 'City of Gods'," notes a familiar voice, burning even colder than the void, and chills ratchet up Soong's spine. "Unfortunately for you, you're very much in the wrong neighbourhood."

Adam spins on a click that shouldn't echo, and truly wishes he hadn't; his ears roar in protest, his eyes follow suit, as the veil of blackness lifts.

"That's... that can't be -"

"Ooo, look at you! Not just a biologist!" Q crows, darkly sing-song. "You're the first human to visit one of these, I'll have you know. Feel special, Doctor... I'm so rarely this furious."

Adam is anything but stupid, but faced with the insane - "Q, I - what the fuck is this?! How have you -"

"Oh, you're going to love this," Q drawls, grin unhinged. "Biology, meet your new worst enemy, Temporal Physics."

He snaps sharp fingers and he's professorial, spectacles, waistcoat and all; the wicked cane between his hands does even less to reassure Adam than their location.

"Time, as I mentioned, has abandoned me - down there, anyway." He gestures vaguely with the cane, a hologram of Earth suddenly spinning aimlessly beside him. "Up here, though..."

He doesn't snap this time: the hologram simply shatters, Earth's shards razors slicing through his companion's exposed skin as though he's butter, and Adam feels a thrill of pure horror even as he hisses in pain.

"Well, the balance of power redresses. She remembers her place. And speaking of which..."

The geneticist is flung helplessly backwards, and he shrieks against the bellowing rush of gravity as he hovers, suspended, on the crux of oblivion.

"She isn't the only one that needs to recall such things."

The god's eyes wear madness with a horrific comfort, and his smile sets every individual nerve of the human on a knife-edge.

"Tell me, dear Doctor - is your daughter also allergic to black holes?" Soong pales five distinct shades, and Q chuckles thinly. "What am I saying - you're a scientist, you love a good experiment! Which one shall we test?"

Finally, Adam rediscovers his voice, and it rings high with disgust. "Don't you fucking dare -"

He's thrust ever-closer, and he's not sure which is the more petrifying: the empty ice of the event horizon, or the murderous sear of a gaze he can barely deign to meet.

"Don't you ever presume to tell me what to do, little man," Q snarls, and for a split second, Adam acknowledges every shred of the universe's rage.

It's all he can do to stay sane against it, and he's not sure he manages. Whimpers pull themselves from his throat, and his mouth hangs uselessly in an unuttered scream.

"I d-didn't -" he stammers, terrified. "He got in the w-way, Q - how was I s-supposed to -"

"I don't care for your excuses, Doctor." Adam shuts up, instantly. "All I care about is that he lives - and all you should care about is that I will make you watch your daughter be torn to shreds if he doesn't. Again, and again, and again. Bye now!"

He's gone on a click, and even back in his lab, shivering weakly, the mania of a god burns in his mind's eye. He starts frightfully as words scroll across his screen, the keystrokes heavy and deadening.

I HOPE YOU'VE REMEMBERED YOUR PLACE, DOCTOR. ;)

Adam Soong breaks down, and reaches for the nearest bottle.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 7

A/N: scott's pov, finally!! as well as more of my "the empires smp gals deserve to go off, actually" agenda. also check out this rad art submitted by @dancinglifeboat! i also would like to apologize ahead of time, the updates from here on out are probably going to slow down a bit because while i am still extremely motivated to write this fic, it hasn't been as high as it was for the upcoming chapters as it has been for the previous ones. i honestly don't even know HOW i was so motivated to write several chapters so fast that i actually had a backlog of them for a bit and was able to post them daily. so the updates will likely slow down to being every couple of days or maybe every couple of weeks, depending on time/motivation. but yeah! anyway, enjoy!

Warnings: lying/manipulation, threats of violence, past violence, arguing, heartbreak

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

-

Scott felt just about sick to his stomach every time he looked at the slimeball Jimmy had given him. It was such a stupid little thing to get emotional over, and it was honestly kind of gross and sticky. But Scott couldn’t bear to get rid of it. It had stung more than he cared to admit when Jimmy had reminded him of how isolated and distant Scott was from everything. Staying up and away from the world kept him safe, kept his empire safe. But being safe didn’t make it any less lonely and isolating. And then Jimmy had looked at him like he was the world, and told him that he should be able to enjoy the little things too. Scott couldn’t bear to get rid of the slimeball, even though the memories were painful now. For as much as bluntly being reminded that he was alone stung, Jimmy telling him to leave stung even worse.

Looking back on it now, Scott didn’t really know why he had sided with Fwhip. It was long before Scott had really felt anything for Jimmy, mostly flirting with him to get a rise out of him. That flirting had always devolved into fighting, and it was after one particularly nasty argument that Fwhip had pulled him aside after the meeting and talked about how the House Blossom Alliance would be the downfall of their empires. And at the time… Scott had agreed with him. He loved Katherine, he really did- but there were too many rivalries in that alliance for it to ever truly work. So he went along with Fwhip’s plan- go along with the meetings until an opportunity arose. Then came the addendum of Scott keeping an eye on Jimmy to make sure he wouldn’t be a problem. And then came the plan of rigging the ballroom to explode and blame it on another empire. And even worse- Scott actually caught feelings for Jimmy, instead of it being an act like Fwhip had planned.

So before the night of the ball, Scott had struck a deal with Fwhip. If there was no argumentative behavior during the ball, then he wouldn’t set off the TNT. To his surprise and relief, Fwhip had agreed- and then went and purposefully antagonized Jimmy. And Jimmy- sweet, impulsive Jimmy- had fought right back. Scott didn’t get a chance to pull Fwhip aside and convince him to change his mind before Lizzie had asked him for a dance, then spun Jimmy right into his arms. Fwhip had been watching them the entire time they danced, then left as soon as the song ended, heading up the stairs. Scott snuck away from Jimmy to follow him- only for Fwhip to have flown off by the time Scott made his way up the stairs. Then Jimmy followed him too, and once he spotted Fwhip in the distance with his crossbow, Scott realized he had been used to draw Jimmy out. So he kissed Jimmy, and then Fwhip set off the explosions. It was then Scott realized Fwhip had lied to him about the plan- somehow he had rigged Katherine’s entire castle with TNT, not just the ballroom, and wanted to be sure that everyone knew it was Fwhip and the Wither Rose Alliance behind it all. A show of power, so that no one would mess with them.

So now Scott was alone again. Jimmy felt like Scott had betrayed him- and frankly, Scott had. He should have told the House Blossom Alliance about the TNT, instead of striking a weak deal with Fwhip. Now the House Blossom Alliance would never trust him again, and all Scott had now was the Wither Rose Alliance- which Scott wasn’t so sure if he wanted to be a part of anymore. And at their next secret meeting, Scott found out that he wasn’t the only one with this opinion. Usually they met in Gem’s hidden meeting room, but this time around, she insisted on meeting in the Grimlands, not giving a clear reason why. Scott had thought nothing of it, until the time for the meeting actually came.

“I’m done, Fwhip,” Gem said, not even taking a seat at the table. Fwhip leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow at Gem.

“What do you mean, you’re ‘done?’” he scoffed. Gem slammed her hands down on the table, purple magic sparking in the air. Everyone in the room had ranging expressions of shock and terror on their faces. Gem never got angry like this, at least not as long as Scott had known her. Fwhip, however, seemed unphased.

“You lied to us. You said you were going to make a point at the House Blossom Ball. Instead you blew it up! You could have killed us!” she fumed. Fwhip rolled his eyes.

“Gem, you know me. What other point would I have made that didn’t go off with a bang? Besides, Sausage and Scott knew about the TNT,” Fwhip replied with a shrug. The glare Gem sent him was deadly, and Pearl rose from her seat at the revelation.

“I was hoping that maybe Scott was clever and figured out your plan, and just wasn’t able to get the information to anyone in time- but you told him and Sausage?! And I’m not exactly pleased that neither of them felt it was necessary to tell Gem and I what was going on, but the nerve of you to hide information from your own allies, Fwhip!” Pearl scolded. Scott and Sausage didn’t say anything, a little embarrassed- but to be fair, it hadn’t really occurred to Scott that Fwhip didn’t tell everyone about his plan. He had told Scott one-on-one, and Scott had foolishly assumed that he had told the others as well. Yet another frustrating hoodwink courtesy of Fwhip.

“Because I knew you would react like this! But there’s no sense in arguing about it now, what’s happened has happened. Let’s discuss plans for the future, shall we?” Fwhip said with an overly charming grin.

“No,” Pearl said firmly, and Fwhip blinked in surprise.

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

“You heard Gem. She’s done, and so am I. I won’t be a part of this senseless destruction anymore,” Pearl said evenly. And before Fwhip had a chance to protest, Pearl and Gem stormed out of the room. Fwhip let out a dejected sigh, before sitting up straight in his seat again.

“Fine. Who needs them? We’ll be just fine- won’t we, boys?” Fwhip asked, and the smile he gave Scott made his stomach roll.

“Yeah! Now we don’t have to tiptoe around them anymore!” Sausage cheered, and Scott could only give a weak smile in response. Something in Fwhip’s smile turned sharp as he leaned towards Scott with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“You know, I never properly complimented your acting skills. You really had Jimmy caught like a fish in a net. It’s a shame though- you got a little too wrapped up in the act- not to mention him- and we lost a valuable chance to deal with the Codfather once and for all. But that’s alright- I’m sure we’ll get another opportunity,” Fwhip said in a low and dangerous tone, the thinly veiled threat very clear to Scott. Don’t get in the way again, and don’t try and weasel out of plans. Or he’d make sure he’d regret it.

“R-right,” Scott said shakily. Fwhip seemed satisfied, and leaned back in his chair once more.

“Good. Now I suppose that advantage with you pretending to like Jimmy is gone now, unless you do a lot more than just kiss him this time around-”

“No,” Scott blurted, before he could really think about it.

“What was that?” Fwhip asked, raising an eyebrow. A lie about how Jimmy definitely didn’t want to see him again- which wasn’t really a lie per se, but it wasn’t the reason Scott said no- was at the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t say it. And in that moment, he finally decided to do what Pearl and Gem had done.

“I’m not doing this anymore. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think about bringing more pain and destruction to J- to these lands,” Scott said, voice shaking a little but his eyes sharp as he glared at Fwhip. But Fwhip caught the wobble in his voice and how he nearly said Jimmy’s name. However Sausage spoke up and commented on it before Fwhip could.

“You WEREN’T pretending, you actually fell for Jimmy!” Sausage gasped, and the tone of his voice reminded him of simpler times, when Sausage would tease him about his flirting with Jimmy and Pearl would admonish him and tell Sausage to leave Scott alone. Then Fwhip had taken advantage of Scott’s banter with Jimmy, and brought Scott’s world crashing down around him as a result.

“You’ve gotten weak, Scott. What happened to the imposing, cold ruler of Rivendell?” Fwhip sneered. Scott rose from the table at that, glaring Fwhip down.

“I’m finally being the ruler I should have been. I’m not going to let other empires use me for their own gain, and I’m not going to be part of your destructive plans,” Scott fumed, wings flaring and making him seem taller, more threatening. Fwhip chuckled darkly.

“You walk out of here, and you’ll regret it,” he growled.

“I’ll take my chances,” Scott shot back, turning on his heel and exiting the room, ignoring both Fwhip and Sausage’s voices after him. He was done with the Wither Rose Alliance. In fact, he was done with alliances entirely. He was going to stay in the mountains and care for his empire, like he should have been all along.

-

Then the slimeball on the side table by his bed reminded Scott why he didn’t want to stay in the mountains. He would just be exactly what Jimmy expected of him- high and mighty, being too good for anyone. And being alone. Scott had a taste of what a sense of togetherness felt like, and now being alone hurt more than ever. But there was no one he could go to, no one who would trust him. Maybe he could form something with Pearl and Gem, or maybe the two new empire rulers, Shelby and Joey- but it wouldn’t be the same. Nothing would ever be the same, not as long as the mere memory of Jimmy’s goofy grin sent his heart fracturing a thousand times, over and over again.

He couldn’t stand being within the walls of his home any longer. His wings itched with the need to spread and take to the skies, and flying always made him feel better. So Scott did just that, taking to the skies and flying nowhere in particular, just far away from all the empires as much as possible. Maybe if he flew far enough, it would all disappear and Scott wouldn’t have to deal with his problems anymore. And maybe with enough distance, his heartbreak would disappear too.

-

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[crowdedimagines]

Leaked Pt. 2 - Harry Styles

PART ONE

Harry and I follow Gemma back into the house. I cross my arms over my chest, fighting the chill from outside that seems to linger in my bones now. We take a seat back at the table, everyone seems to be stressed and tired of talking, I don’t blame them. I’m thankful Harry and I got a break from it.

“Alright, so we were able to detect what they had access to and what was downloaded from the online server.” Andrew, whose name I learned, says looking at both Harry and I to explain.

“So what else did they get?” Harry questions, he sits up a little straighter in his chair.

“It looks like they also had access to some audio files.”

“Audio files?”

“What? The studio version of medicine?” I tease, assuming that whatever it was can’t be too bad. Harry’s had songs leak before, even if it’s something that ended up being scrapped it can’t be the end of the world. It can’t be as bad as a leaked image of us across twitter.

“No, it looks like they only took several files dated July 15th of 2019.”

“July 15th?” I raise my brows.

“What happened-” Harry starts to question the significance, but it instantly clicks for me. All of the humor and lightheartedness I had is knocked right out of me.

“Fuck-” I pull my hair back over my shoulder. The chill that clung to my bones is gone now, now I can feel myself break out into a sweat. Harry turns to look at me and as soon as our eyes meet I can tell that it’s clicked for him as well.

“It’s our song” Harry states, his voice so quiet that I’m sure not everyone in the room caught it. His voice is soft and low, barely registering.

“Your song?” Anne prompts, her face full of concern as she notice’s the color that’s completely drained from our faces.

“Can we clear out the room for a few minutes?” Harry asks, he takes his hand in mine and nods for Anne and Gemma to fill the seats that have now been vacated.

“Can I?” Harry looks at me for permission before continuing. I give him a soft smile and nod, at this point I’m glad they’ll know. I’d rather they know than the whole world.

“July 15th was the day Y/n and I got back from the hospital.” Harry swallows, “The day before Y/n had suffered a miscarrige.”

The silence in the room is louder than I could’ve expected. Gemma and Anne look at each other, obviously shocked before turning their attention back to us. Their expressions seem just as solemn now.

“So the audio file is?” Gemma looks between us confused.

“So together we wrote a song for our daughter.” I nod, tears slipping without being able to stop them.

“It was really therapeutic, I think we both sobbed through practically the whole thing.” He looks to me and I just nod and agree. Harry’s hand still hasn’t left mine.

“I’m sorry that you guys had to find out this way.” I pull my head up to finally make eye contact. Tears are still slowly streaming, but I’m able to blink past them, “We had been so excited to tell you guys that we were expecting and it was only a few weeks after that we had already lost her.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Anne says, her eyes filling up with tears of her own at this point.

“So this was right before you guys broke up.” Gemma realizes, “Is that-?”

She doesn’t seem to be able to finish her own thought. The air in the room is a little too heavy. If I wasn’t drained before, I am now.

“Partly.” Harry nods.

“It wasn’t a lie that the stress of always being apart tore us apart, but going through something like that and then having to fly across the world. We didn’t get to heal from that together, and it ruined our relationship.”

Third Person POV

Slowly the group makes their way back in. Harry makes it very clear to all of them that they need to do everything in their power to stop that audio file from seeing the light of day. It crushed him to see the defeated look on Y/n’s face. She looks exhausted. Harry can’t pull his eyes from her saddened face every couple of seconds. The last thing he wants is for her to feel emotionally exposed as well as physically.

“Y/n, why don’t we go off to bed.” Anne gets up from her spot and places a gentle hand on the younger girl's shoulder. She only nods and lets Anne lead her up stairs. No one else at the table comments, no one dares. Harry’s eyes follow her as Anne wraps an arm around her shoulder and they walk up the stairs.

Anne leads her to Harry’s room, knowing that she was bound to stay there after everything that’s happened today. No one can blame her for being so tired, it was only a few hours ago that she landed. She’s had her body exposed to the world and now there’s the potential for one of the most intimate parts of her to be exposed as well. Today has been the day from hell for Y/n.

Y/n changes into one of Harry’s shirts and tucks herself in under the covers. It’s been over a year since she’s been in this bed. Anne comes back in to check on her, noticing her eyelids are falling heavy as they talk.

Anne curls up in the sitting chair on the other side of the master bedroom. It doesn’t feel right to leave her alone right now in this state and she doesn’t exactly feel like participating in the conversations downstairs anymore. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth hearing people speak so casually over something so personal.

It’s a few hours later when Harry makes his way upstairs and he’s surprised to see either of them in his room. He looks like the definition of exhausted. His mom looks up from her book and glances over to see that Y/n is still asleep.

“Is she alright?” Harry asks, looking at the girl curled up in his bed.

“She will be.” Anne sets down the book. She pulls the blanket off of her shoulders and folds it up neatly.

“Did you guys get anything decided?” Anne questions, making her way over to her son by the door.

“Yeah, Jordan and Jeff both agree that it might be in our best interest to release a statement. If it gets out we’ll obviously need to address it. They want to talk it over again tomorrow morning once Y/n is feeling a bit better.”

“Sounds great, love.” Anne presses a soft kiss to his cheek before letting herself out.

Harry breaks his stare on the love of his life so he can get ready for bed himself. He brushes his teeth and does his night routine as quietly as he can. From what he remembers, it always used to wake Y/n up anyway, but she’s exhausted.

He finally finishes up and hovers over his side of the bed, unsure if he should cross that line. Sure she’s laying in his bed, but that doesn’t mean it’s an open invitation for them to share the bed.

“Just get in already.” Her voice surprises Harry. Her eyes didn’t even flinch to open. Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, he slides in on his side.

“What are we going to tell the fans?” Her voice a soft echo in the silence.

Harry lets out a long sigh, moving to lay on his back.

“I don’t know. How much do we want them to know? Neither of us have ever let the fans in like this before.”

“But aren’t they going to figure it out anyway? We know that they’re smart, and our lyrics were hardly veiled.”

“I think I would rather tell them. If we can’t stop it from getting out there, I would want to avoid as many conspiracy theories as possible. How do you feel about it?”

Y/n reaches out her hand to connect it with Harry’s. His head snaps over to look at her and she’s staring down at where her fingers fiddle with his rings.

“I feel comfortable with that. The whole world is going to know now.”

His words fill the silence, Y/n only letting out a sigh in response.

“I should call my parents and let them know. Y/S/N too. They deserve to know before the story breaks.”

Y/n shifts back onto her side facing away from him, letting Harry’s hand drop in the process. He turns to his side, facing the same direction as her. She turns back, looking over her shoulder towards him.

“Thank you.” Her voice a soft whisper, her eyes meeting his after glancing over his bare chest.

“What for?” He clears his throat, his voice catching from speaking so softly.

“For being you Harry. For being understanding and loving in spite of everything.” She turns back to rest her head back on the pillow, “I don’t think there’s anyone else I would want to have to go through this with.”

Harry scoots closer, he hovers his arm over her waist before settling it when there weren’t any protests. Y/n places her hand on top of his, holding it securely against her.

“I will always love you, Y/n. I wish we didn’t have to go through this, but I’m glad to have you too.”

Those are the last words they exchange that night.

Y/n’s POV

The sun is rising, alerting me that I need to get up and get ready. I manage to snake my way out of Harry’s grasp before he can wake up as well. I make my way to the bathroom and take a long shower.

“Jordan brought in your suitcase last night.” Harry informs.

“Oh, great. Thank you!”

He simply nods before going into the bathroom himself to get ready for the morning. I wrap the towel a little tighter around my body and quickly make my way downstairs to grab my bag. By the time I get back to Harry’s room I can hear the water running in the shower. It gives me enough time to get dressed and escape down to the kitchen before he exits.

“Good morning!” Anne smiles from her spot at the stove.

“Morning.” I smile, I take a seat next to a sleepy Gemma.

“This coffee isn’t even helping.” Gemma groans, throwing her head on my shoulder and closing her eyes.

“That’s because Mum made it.” Harry says as he walks in with a wet head, “Have Y/n make the next batch. That’ll surely get you wide awake.”

“Sounds like an excuse to get my world famous coffee if you ask me.” I eye him with a smile.

“You caught me, love.” He grabs plates for everyone and starts setting the table, noticing his mother is getting close to being done with all the food. I tap Gemma softly on the shoulder so I can get up and make a new pot of coffee. Harry always used to tell me my coffee was his favorite, it always packed a punch.

We all settle at the table, Harry with a large mug of the hot coffee.

“Anne, everything looks wonderful.” I smile looking over everything she’s prepared.

“Thank you.” She grins.

We all dig in, too hungry to prolong it anymore.

“What time is everyone getting here?” I ask, mainly waiting for Harry to answer.

“Within the hour.”

“Have you guys decided what you’re going to do?” Gemma sets down her fork to look at the both of us, prompting me to turn and look at Harry.

“We’re going to tell the fans. We want them to hear it from us, take away the power from the person who hacked my phone.” Harry explains.

“Yeah, that reminds me. I need to call my parents.” I dab the corners of the mouth with a napkin before excusing myself.

Harry’s POV

I watch as Y/n leaves the room to make the call privately.

“So, how is she?” Anne asks, focusing on me.

“With all things considered, I think she’s doing alright.” I take a sip of the coffee that’s still warm, “We both agreed that we’re going to tell the fans today. Clarify a few things.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Gemma nods.

“Me too. It’s nice having her here again.” My mum smiles looking at me.

“Mum, don’t go there.” I warn.

“I didn’t mean anything by it!” She defends, “I just said it’s nice.”

“She’s right.” Gemma chimes in, “Y/n has always been our favorite. We all know that your story with her is far from over.”

I simply shake my head, knowing better than to argue with these two. It’s a short while later Y/n makes a reappearance, her eye’s red and puffy.

“Alright, everyone’s in the know.” She sighs.

Right on que there’s a knock on the door. I’m sure it’s just starting that our teams are showing up. Ready to start a new day.

“Alright, so Harry said that you guys agreed on putting out a statement. We can get started on that today. We need to decide how we want to do it, we have a few options.” Jordan explains, “We can type up a statement from both of you and release it on social media or if you guys wanted to say something.”

“Like a video?” Y/n asks.

“Exactly. It’s totally up to you guys, it’s a matter of preference.” Jeff cuts in, “Sometimes it's a little more comfortable to do it that way so you can say exactly what you want and people can hear your tone, but at the same time it’s a lot more personal this way.”

“What do you want to do?” Y/n suddenly turns to get my opinion.

“I’m fine with either-”

“C’mon, what’s your head saying.” She has a soft knowing smile on her face. I smile back at her because how could I not.

“I think that if we’re coming clean and trying to be honest about things, it could be good to have it actually coming from our mouths.”

“I agree.” She turns back to look at Jordan and Jeff, “So how exactly do we go about that?”

“So we’ll start by-”

Jeff stops speaking as his phone buzzes, he glances down quickly and his eyes widen for a second. Whatever it is it’s enough to have completely captured his attention.

“What is it?” I ask, I start spinning one of my rings subconsciously. It takes what feels like minutes of pure silence, but in actuality it’s only a few seconds for him to answer.

“The audio file is out.”

Fuck.

~

i’m sorry for all the switching of POVs but that’s the best way i felt I could communicate how i wanted things to go. 

PART 3?!?! how are we feeling? mini series?