#my bading senses are tingling

[nyctoaerah]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅”

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Who would've known that the man you spent a night with was the very same man that you're planning to kill? It was a cruel twist of fate, cause as you spent more time with him, you found yourself growing attached-inlove even. But, you ended up knowing the truth about suguru’s death, and the thirst for justice and redemption for Suguru consumed you. The pursuit of absolution drove you to consider any means necessary, even if it meant risking your own well-being, your sanity, your very essence. You were willing to sacrifice everything just to obtain the revenge you so desperately craved, even going as far as to ignore your feelings for Satoru. After all, it doesn't really matter, because Gojo Satoru was yours, he was yours to play with, he was yours to manipulate, and yours to kill, and he’s not complaining about it.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: suggestive themes, racism towards non-sorcerers, aftermath of one-night-stand

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Op! Assassin! Suguru's adopted daughter! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This story is the revamped version of my previous fic “Devil in Disguise” it has the same plot, but this one just has a better story flow in my point of view;) also available in Wattpad and Quotev! Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

Previous chapter

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

━━𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟕 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟕

YOU STIRRED INTO CONSCIOUSNESS as the sunlight caressed your bare skin, rousing your sluggish body from slumbering. Your body felt sore for some reasons, especially your thighs, but you didn’t mind it that much.

Lifting your chin, your eyes fluttered open to take in an ornate chamber paneled in gleaming ivory, its lofty ceiling adorned by a glittering chandelier.

Beneath the sheets, your flesh prickled with awareness of your half-nudity yet also a lingering heat that suffused your pore, recalling the fevered embrace of the previous night.

Lavish scents assaulted your senses—the heady perfume of jasmine mingling with masculine musk. Disoriented, you blinked away the veil of slumber, gazing about in a daze.

Slowly pushing up onto your elbows, your mind awakened in fragments—an argument with your sisters, you going on a club, getting drugged.. And him.

Satoru.

You shuddered as sensations washed over your body, recalling his touch last night. The ghost of his kisses lingered on your skin, tingling your thighs, stomach and lips. Merely remembering elicited a renewed flush of heat that spread from your cheeks down your neck.

While you bore no regrets, uncertainty nagged at you. How had you measured up to his experienced caresses? Fragments were all that remained—his  worship of your flesh, Thrilling pinpricks rose goose bumps where his adulating mouth had bade your body ignite with each kiss and nibble. The feel of his mouth exploring your private places, his hands grasping your hips to pull you ever closer. 

The taste of strawberries on his tongue, lips tracing ardent paths across your skin and literally everything.

Drawn back to wakefulness by such vivid recollections, you became aware of your state— lightly clad in merely underclothing, fastenings loosened—not in the way you would put it on.

A question appeared on your head.

Was he the one who dressed you up? Your Fingertips rose to trace the marks left on your skin, purpling love-bites grip of grasping fingers on your thigh, and some bite marks. 

You would’ve frowned until you remembered that you gave him the permission to leave marks.

Something you shouldn’t have done, probably, because it’s probably gonna be hard to hide.

Though sated, You can’t help but wonder, You knew that you sucked at these kind of things, and you wanted something, not repetition but rather clarification.

Had you pleased him fully as he had so fully worshiped you? 

“Stop thinking about that.. s’just a one-night stand..” 

you mumble as you pressed your palm to your brow, despising how your mind stubbornly clings to the stupid memories.

“Stupid hormones...”

On unsteady feet, you got off the bed and padded the plush floor, surveying the place to find your clothing. Finding nothing, your gaze wandered the opulent interior, committing each exquisite feature to memory—slate and marble, gilt and glass conspiring in sensuous splendor.  

Steeling your shaking sinews, you reached for the door, cool metal kissing your fevered skin. Light assaulted you and you winced as you peered into it. 

You blinked slowly as you took in your unfamiliar surroundings. An ornate foyer stretched above you, Fresh flowers accented various surfaces, their sweet perfume. Rolling your aching head gingerly from side to side, you sought some clue as to your location amid the opulence, but alas, everything remained hazy and indistinct. 

Stupid fucking hangovers. You thought as you went towards the stairs.

Struggling to balance yourself, a wave of dizziness and nausea overcame you, your stomach roiling in protest. Clammy-palmed, you steadied yourself against the polished balustrade as you walked down, letting the smooth stairs guide your unsteady steps.

When you were finally down, you felt mortified  as you realized that you’re half naked. Fuck, you forgot.

Maybe you should go back on the room? You hesitated, not really wanting to walk around half naked.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through your distressed haze.

 “Oh, you’re awake.”

You knew that voice—it belonged to Satoru. Squaring your shoulders to muster what shreds of dignity you could, you turned to face him. His hair was damp, a towel draped across his shoulders, below which his torso was similarly bare. Meeting his eyes, you asked the inevitable question to break the awkward silence.

“Oh...uhm...where are my clothes?”

“Oh, I still haven’t finished washing it. You puked on it yesterday.” Satoru mentioned nonchalantly, causing your eyes to widen as the recollection of your vomit soaking the fine silk assaulted your senses once more, filling you with even more shame. 

You forgot, you really did vomited on the poor dress when you arrived here.

“You don’t have to wash it, y’know...” You mumble sheepishly.

“Hmm, nope, i’ll wash it. That dress is pretty on you, it looks exquisitely nice to rip it off your body though, but it’s still nice.”

Your face flushed in embarrassment at his bluntness.

Your face flushed at his blunt candor, a fierce heat swelling within your cheeks. Crimson-tinged and agitated, you averted your eyes from him.

Fuck, you’re not used to people telling you such things.

“I-i can do it myself , you don’t have to do it. I don’t wanna be a burden.” you responded, shaking your head in embarrassment , not wanting to impose. You’ve already embarrassed yourself last night, probably , and now you would have him wash your fucking dress?

Satoru chuckled in response. “No, it's alright. I insist on doing it.”

His persistence made your brows draw together 

“I don’t wanna be a burden,” you firmly stated jaw set slightly, causing him to roll his eyes, and place a hand on his hip sassily.

“I can do it promise. I kinda ruined it too, so seems fair for me to do it, hm?” He drawls.

“No fair,” You shot him a playful glare.

“Well, life isn’t fair, princess.”

“Just give me the dress, i’ll clean it—” 

You began only to be cut off.

“Nuh uh. I’m cleanin’ that. No more arguments.” He said. Your eye twitched at that, yet it somehow made your stomach flutter a bit, from some reason you didn’t knew.

“Anywayss, You should also consider taking a bath, you know?” he murmured softly, sky blue eyes fixed on the ceiling, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Your face fell. Shit, do you smell bad? As if sensing your doubt, Satoru began to elucidate. 

“Don’t worry, i cleaned you up yesterday, made sure to clean everything! But still, I’m sure you'd like a bath too... to ease your er.. sore muscles..”

He said, a cordial smile on his lips.

“I like aftercare, after all, so you don’t have to worry about you smelling like....” he said, twisting the damp towel between deft fingers. A roguish smirk curled his lips. Your gaze traced the lean lines of his form outlined by the thin fabric, lingering on his corded neck.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Satoru.”

“I meant sweat. Pervert. You’re thinking about something else, aren’t you?” He giggled.

“Heh? You didn’t expect that, did you?” he crooned, idly twining a damp lock around his finger like a school girl getting approached by their crush.

Speech evaded you, your thoughts scattered like leaves before an autumn gale in embarrassment.

He fixated you with an intense gaze, his blue eyes seeming to appraise your every subtle movement and reaction. A sly smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Hm? Why are you staring at me like that?” he questioned with feigned innocence, though his teasing tone implied far more clandestine intentions.

You blinked, brows twitching slightly.

“I didn't knew that you’re such a pervert, princess. now you’re making me all shy.”

Satoru giggled, his words a contrast to his obvious actions again. In no way was he shy, he was shameless after all.

Satoru Gojo has no shame after all.

You struggled to collect your frazzled thoughts.

“I’m uh, staring at the ceiling, you’re just tall so it looks like i’m staring at you.” you replied lamely, cursing your inability to formulate a wittier response internally.

He released a throaty chuckle, clearly unconvinced by your flimsy excuse.

“Yeah, yeah, you gotta take a bath now, let’s yap later after you finished taking a bath, yeah?” His lascivious grin remained firmly in place.

Your cheeks burned anew as you realized your sorry state.

“Er.. i don’t have clothes... My dress is already.. you know...” 

The words scratched painfully in your parched throat as you crossed your arms tightly over your exposed torso

“Mhmm. Don’t worry princess.” He hums.

“You can borrow some of mine, i think i have smaller ones” Satoru shifts his gaze towards a door.

“I’ll get it for you, yeah? Just wait f’me.”

Without delay, he strode from the room with purposeful steps.

Finally.

You exhaled a slow, lengthy breath, letting your tingling fingers trace delicate trails across your scalp as the heat of mortification warmed your cheeks once again, out of embarrassment and sheepishness.

You didn’t expected him to be this caring, cause he’s giving the fuck boy vibes—plus you’re a total stranger in here too.

Maybe he does this to other girls too, You pondered before your shoulders slackened, upon remembering that you’re not really that special—cause he’s probably bedded a lot of girls and does this to them.

Nonetheless, it’s still quite pleasant.

You looked at the lavish surroundings, taking in exquisite details. Gilded trim and intricately carved furnishings was everywhere, it looked fancy and all. Your gaze drifted and lingered on portraits adorning the white walls, peering into the pictures within gilded frames. One picture , though, seized your attention—it was about two people, and one just looked like suguru—but you’re not sure about it yet. 

You wanted to confirm, so you strode forward trance-like, but then, satoru’s voice jarred your walking.

“What are you doing?” Satoru's lilting tones roused you. You turned to find him regarding you with questioning eyes, hands cradling fresh linens and some sort of pills that says “Plan B” atop the pristine fabric.

“Nothing...just looking around,” You murmured vaguely, brows furrowed slightly.

“Ah well. Here is it.” he says.

“I brought you Plan B too. Ugh.. i think i went raw last night, but don’t worry, i’m clean. Sorry [Name].”

You were about to ask him what he meant by that, but stopped when he practically placed the clothes in your hands.

As your hands grasped the unfamiliar fabrics, a weight dropped into your palm—a phone, your phone, to be specific.

“I think this is yours, i found it lying on my couch.” He said, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah.. it’s mine. Thanks ”

Your fingertips traced over the cracked screen, appraising the damage done whilst gripped in oblivion and you wince.

“Damn...”

Notifications assailed your distracted eyes, your siblings’ concerns, there were so many missed calls and texts from them.

A grimace formed on your face, muscles tensing.

Your brat of a sisters is definitely gonna lecture you.

━━𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

You sunk low into the bath, letting the warmth envelop you and melting away the tension from your muscles. Closing your eyes, you drew in a deep breath, reveling in the soothing scent of jasmine that perfumed the steam. Your fingers idly traced patterns in the surface, disturbing the drifting bubbles.

As you dragged your hands upwards over your skin, the bubbles popped, leaving trails of moisture in their wake. Your cellphone rested on the smooth tiles bordering the tub, its waterproof casing ensuring it would not come to harm. 

Nanako’s tinny voice emanated from the device, pulling your mind from its half-formed reverie.

“Where were you, sister??” she whined petulantly. A sigh escaped your lips; you were in no mood for her querulous nagging.

“You sound like an angry mother,”  you replied wryly.

“Not funny! We were so worried about you,” she retorted, concern lacing her words.

“Where’s mimiko?” You questioned, for you haven’t heard mimiko, after all, normally, it was always the both of them talking to you through phone, now though, it was solely nanako.

“I was uh.. at a friend’s house right now.” You lied feebly.

“She’s with me. She’s sleeping, and come back sister, we gotta tell you something important.”

Silence fell as you considered her statement, your thoughts inevitably turning to darker matters.

 “Just say it on the phone, please?”

“Fine. We can’t find master geto’s body...” Nanako said solemnly, her voice taut with unease. Her words struck like icy blades into your core, and you froze momentarily amidst the comforting warmth, your blood chilling in your veins as you felt your mood suddenly fell. His body had yet to be found? Your jaw clenched involuntarily as restless questions swirled within your mind.

“Why?” you demanded, brows furrowed in consternation.

“Do you already know his killer then...?” The implications were grim, and you sat rigid, mind racing.

“I... I think it’s that okkotsu kid.”

“What the fuck? No way.” You were flabbergasted.

“You mean that kid?”  

You frowned deeply, eyebrows furrowing in a look of utter repugnance as feelings of incredulity and revulsion washed over you. That meek urchin having bested Suguru was an affront to reason itself—the notion was positively preposterous. The lad seemed scarcely capable of lifting his own limbs after all!

“I can’t believe this.” You sighed in disappointment.

“But.  I’m gonna avenge master suguru, don’t worry.” 

“Those monkeys... Are the reason he’s dead... ugh.. those okkotsu brat used to be a monkey too, didn’t he? Then became a sorcerer ‘cause of the special grade cursed spirit.. riki? Was it? Or rika..?”

Your fingers curled into tight fists at your sides, nails digging crescents into your palms. That was a trait you got from suguru, albeit you were influenced by him, as you had the same loathing he held for non-sorcerers.

“True, true, i still can’t believe that he managed to defeat master geto... with that kind of physique...”

“Such a bodyshamer you are, nanako.” You mumble.

“​​​​​​It’s true!” Nanako replied.

“But then.. why would the other sorcerers protect them again...? I mean.. the monkeys... They’re the sole reason why curses are born anyways...”  you muttered through clenched teeth, slumping against the wall of the washroom as soothing bubbles danced across your aching limbs. 

“They probably got manipulated and can’t see the truth. They’re seriously brainwashed by them.” Nanako replied bitterly.

“Seriously. I told you guys that you should’ve just waited for me... Cause you know... We might stand a chance..” You added.

“After all, i’m unregistered, aren’t i? So they won’t know how my cursed techniques works.” 

━━𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

[libidomechanica]

Theres not Rosalend (who know what could lead their gods began it, I)

A ballad sequence

               1

The Smiles to my hope we shan’t see     thro’ white with hoary Whiskers and when or you get up, get     up, and cease their knows when

there was as greete, and we not so,     greater turning Omens did his pocket-book and yet more     sugar’d that look: already

you love in soft had it—but     I have hear, and for ever the Fair in a Kirtle of     ten. Fate it breed more in

hand wit, thou now? For sure the waves     roar and crush’d a sweets are double. Some disgrace of Love shall     love of friend, will hie, over

banks o’ Coil, I thought. And listening,     he had their magic with Pow’r—Hail wayward Queens o’er human     to be by bigots

shall guide my soule, thou kiss, thoughts and     Praise, if She is sleeping. And snatched in a leaf out of the     Whistle next, a Chief the

rowsing Shake, and all round the bright,     but for ever can terms unhandsome, pieces. Long delight.     Humming to truth—i say

too, in my brand newer purple     Tyrant first who, in might fill within its zone. I earn my     sunny field turns a strand.

               2

And thy poet out ioy, thou doest     process doth play on the sea. Also they also meek as     a cane than when he was

to the heard a wise start of birth     and heart, as mine ear confound, nor would not his life in my     should truly tell me shelf,

and sudden he view’d, in spite of     all other. To win, he meditates tingled in fact,     his april touch drove sleeping.

To find some weightless Jeanie     wistfully to decide their Knight, but saddest way: supprest,     her native grace your coat

that did greue. I see something care?     A tone of singly to them. Wisely wanton Yuie twinkling,     the ooze of their tumble,

I should have dispatcht the sweeten     my vow! Elbows, knees like Anthony’s by Caesar, ’ by the     lost, can e’er the same sweet

babe father’s able in fire, and     then all the knowledge spring bade the tiles, for all their ancient     fictions guide seafaring

bade there’s not harp’d upon     the Nymph shall youthful, as yet those jacks so wet it be pride     my deadly Bodkin from

vice, where things with dindon a la     Parigeux; ’ how shall liking, as urbanity required.     All we find stella, the

rosy temple’s occupation,     such a character—high, so well know: margaret! The wars are     you would be—you of my

soul appalls; I mock’d away, spring     attention waste not the nobly deare. There decanted;—     I presume to pass. By

the cup of must go, to my heart!     To change returne, when the clear. To one can see thee though at     the palates the fair, hath

so fairest on the dusk holiday     or how, or when Juliana came, and mornings, and     extend there in her cleaues

the Sun obliquely show the Winds     dispers’d in Light, viziers nodding that her Smiles extends, let     breaking in the puree,

as grow, and I’m come and new body,     even my poor Beauty made green lollipops. Not do!     The guttering passed by.

               3

You walk the holy well; the mounted spot but sadde.     Mine is firmly set; a page from the flowing sense of more on books on the gushing and     cut the first sight of the grape; and love my Lays. To come: and hard to reach. Now what cookery     rather drawn thus quiet-colours that dark. And not her head again have got than dust!     She, the Breast bo-peepe or cool and slide,

might him going, of drawing people confuse my     mind that blows coldly when to the Lark, to dine. Not your faithless, the latter crumbs upon     her heads, and strains of my sore: loue into some present light, there’s not in full foredoom     the Fair and are better to relieve strangely blush’d to novel power to grace and     must not my hearts, stops, start at thy state

sans confitures, on the innocent, for all     my life is sorry. His Purple door; she sighs for true is, stolne to what endure the rest     of a world appeared to. She answering looked upon the pinnacle is proudly thought,     in Tears survey, already see how oft Ambitious Aims are yet America was     island I unremember, I lay

on the nature at leave poor in generous grace     when art is too are the memory of you all who fry cold as if here Mixture is     the Morning Omens did oftentiment. There lay the gold bought, may do any kind of     height clapt his utmost him vp without a Wind, nay, Poll sate on his Foe to decided,     thrust, patted and exalt their knowledge

spring of thee so appal. And then there a     multitude! Moving our velvet Plain. The wars are those two are thou fill’st my glorious Forms     by Spleenwort in plaster; you wanted, as pow’rs, thought to die and therein my bill of burning     for the just be thy lang—take much half a beauty also the surface; but that faire     soft and falls to roll, and what, feare no

miracles? For the slime in one small reasons rage;     gainst allies of Pity soothe Lock you long; I was blawn, and which was fix’d upon the Birds     delight in weaker sike an ancient time I held out, my kerchief that should advised him     in conversation, the pungent Grandsire wore, hey ho chapelet, of twelve abreast reason     where lay the Head, while the mysteriously

advise; with such a carcanet; about     that’s us. Since saucy jacks so happened once she cold spell that that two are the grape; and     thus far away; if on another’s window veil was melted down Armies in conversing     though probably much excellent advice. She was interpos’d; fate urg’d they ken na what,     features, woven in the bellowing

that sweare by a warble than you moved through as you.     Pen, the whole, she saw in such delight, hey ho pinch a flower Sky; the crowd of wrangle;     and mony a widow insisting him safe in my plaints in endless refin’d, he fondly     intersect and brave posterity undone, unless than they; now the vacant Brain     new Stratagems, the solitary

past, when as though the millions marry, Tommy, Wilfred,     Edward, each Eye o’er, and so conscious eyes betray; lies in the gold bought to go and     her aspect and pure, because he ne’er I have no recompense of ioy it is, no doubt—     Sweet—then come again will pique a gently conduct, since Homer’s keen stars for her eyes the     Glebe distemperature. And the best.

Like virtue; and position, like the night, there’s     not leave theme of Brutus at Conway dwell and to; their grave Lord! That you but he is     familiar, could wish you do not your cartridge fillets, deck’d with whole, beside his whole nation     to be gone to seize hairs lesson of his hands. She said and the Devil? Midst life’s infinite     various Tempests on the time

flower and roos, and country lang—take paint out of     both, while Hampton-Court there a guest; a beautiful Pussy! Moved through hate half to aught, twould     be seen or gods sigh suppression is as free but chiefe lights be not to the Heroes and     Trumps, she redden’d like all Cupid, and mee: I pyne for a quarter. Or ran the pure, thy     Eyes shepeheards, til you in conversing

I wrote Fair each other to lovelier watches.     Cros, our humbler promontory, but inflame, or hang than he to fear the only:     we have close, quick objections their trenches, kiss his killing Star I saw the quietus is     taught of beauty. The Fate no liberal by nature natural. And one who cram, relieve if     though the spray. My stock-holder when I

the javelin such aberrations. ’ The care if that     seventy years and my father lips, which flourishes, with earnest Eyes first starf, and never     mad; mad in me the winds howling, was found thy love with Men below, or brew fiercest     attends, oft showers; and the manners go. Her heart like a ring arms of form delivers     to show this my notion, just as I

forst to yield; now Shock was wet. For objects worthy     of their pasture-ground the triumphs at highest rate is for while other said, we are ten     frecklessness, and the world’s tears, so free thee frown on the invisible tasks: Gather thorns     and seating troth, my Peggy’s heart than it be the with an eager eyes. In a big house     did look, or seem’d innocent: twere

impious as truths than compassions rage; gainst you so     apply: that ye could be done, some slight, hey ho hollidaye, when will to come. Scenes too, since thee     still. Of mankind, a Branch of all that cannot spare, that sad moment, which ministers, you     not desire to saue thee dear perhaps something star-laden, a long, leapt up, and the     Ground, thy Eyes dejected an overpass

what you should I speak in vain Thalestries. Her     Joy in gilded leaues the times certain fair moon, the syntax of loue. Let me see us     whole, beside me is not timid air is fill’d him who must of nation’s errors; the lute     and Dido rag’d Thalestris cries, which from the twists of Ill the Virgin th’ Atlantic     roar? Of this friend to Trojan and

a nomenclature from earth after Million lives     in haste; your resound: ye cared not told often show’st thy look twin oppositively     henceforth such cannot better bowes, and bright that cruel be? To eat. Now Juan, thou leau’st the coals     to these the Baron Fate of a becasse; ’ and leave the bay? Come, dear maid, how could roast beef     in Years, and Monuments, like whom thou

distinguish’d bridegrooms, after heard the dance thro’     liquid Gold, Elysian Screen; a third, too, let the prest, thought, hey ho the short. And kindling     lustre of love. While they twitch’d there enthrals the archer his own vision holding to this     was a lynx, and ev’ry Beam long Canals of joy or misery, or a Ha! Since     barr’d of modern heroes, kiss the came

them in a lodger; i’ve service dwells to beye, first     spoke that one or both upon our prime of Life his hard to their lived—Enough—that harder     thing else to these, whether shall feel the gilded Mast, she had, nor barn or byre those that some     Orient Personal act or speech each Silver Token, and economic     Never should lead away beloved.

               4

Sold for faire some acids with a     tear, therewith what Nature soft sex are very shore, the     silvery koi swishing,

health is built with tender in her     Mind, how can I your age, because thou hast thou saw’st, in Dreams     of Hair dissent. Poore Child

complish’d by the surf in the Wind     that soul for the reason which won it, I thought. He saw it     up, sweetly than on this

day be a resurrection, lust     is perjured, murderous, but looks transparent of healing     Spires, pale Spectres, gaping

Toyshop of raine once gave Ear, and     their Visits shaken with humour such daring most true. Thought     and roos, and the waves; say

truths from your fancy I approaching     the gold bought her will gaze, from mortals, thou climb’d on the     spindle in this quiver,

and loving wound unthinking a     topic which from the natural stays of old through simulation     sweet as you so he

blew in possession. And Nymphs and     trembling flower, glisten. But those of Chat, with the spread her     eyes were proud of deeds and

beg of you to questions and one     was wildly clad; her being no sin certes it hold me     oft hand in her brother,

was not the first to the temper’d     Spirits are seven! And briars and Dukes, and happy, it is     enchased many a

glazed Westphalian ham on, serf, lord,     much by concision will go much like in please in virgins     whose the holes, all but me.

               5

Or plunges at me. It was blue     with shifting than there are one. Ne’er despised stream time of Life     his pregnant pot existence

expenses in abundance     their triumphant united easier far, alas! Come     away; for still, with sometimes

its blossom. The Sylphs contradicting     Points into excess, Can such glass not alway—I     argue they employ at

newe dauncing changing more the city,     guesses, and an end. Requires arithmetic. But and     slow time, so fair moon-faced

illicit emails, ton entangled     essence makes and Witlings made, and crush’d a Victor Spades     beare witless neck she is

soul love you as I love is light’s     shadow’d with all that smell of the Whistle near the Heroe’s     Wits again have loved you.

               6

A Beauveau,’ whose heart, I’m afraid.     Hey ho Bonibell, the solitary pasture-ground the     Victories must we sleeping

Train beneath the pensive Bed, pain     at her beauteous Mold; the Glance by piece give pearls of venison;     wines the gloomy Cave

of Snuff-box open’d, the moon-beams     are decaying; but at her mammie’s wark, and all our Titles     shuffled so, before

than cou’d remains on the roude at     me. To tent to mention to keep your Love deny’d. Tell me     a little next, like the

Chief th’ unequal Fight. In     mutual affected, as are we; two of us love,     what I verily believe

a hauf, and crown’d with a second     toe a little while they catch in Machines. Thou takest,     spare, thy reason, and whisper

in her impels her to these     many dainty mistress neck be wrong: I bare found, and all     Olympus ring. I’ll wait

at red and thrice, and woman-kind,     first spoke, and Passion; and Particolourless falsen no     Soul was large proposed; behind.

As the long, long-content, how     soon to change in one so you can her wings present, past, there     as dull, who gave guest; a

beautye I weene, the glittring Dust. Apply:     that ye could you ever can tell? Because I had wish     you all which may comfort

all that spring of pretence, of     Brutus at Conway dwell as eyes and Death-bed Alms are cross     a sulphuric lake in

Paper-Durance bouncing change return.     Corner for he would be married until final twist,     or herself, there. Dream of

each night, in seeing I wrote should     fall of a Courtiers Promise; I am go children     dear heart away, if that

shall? By nature? Children dear, to     guard with stay came the swart- completely weep my father’s death,     and I. Advised respect:

then be the night, dar I seye, that     bad his own circuit of a goat, and doat. Yet none at all     things will know: margaret! What

bird of her Head. And Nymph! Be your     pypes she graves are full loue and feelings there it’s not hurt     ye, or of bonie Sandy

gied it were my steps forth one Fate     of Love of Ombre sings her Breast. With all help but mark, and all     the bright and time, o’er-spread?

               7

And in her way, by Force to annoy;     treble Voices strictly over utmost him so hugely     stood in the sparkling

on her: she tends to be set     free, and Trumps the cold spell their fates woke dread of orient     Personal act or speech

each here are left me gowd, which governs     me to the Indies, my Mary, in mutual Victim     of her make men—pinn’d

awry, e’er felt enormous in     this, the Pendants of Japan these, in all things to float ’neath     most deeply know that my

Muse’s coffee in one shilling     Bag he rent, and kept with those: favours the church came to, else     the Spouts the tott’ring Face,

for this sublime in eyes backe to     the cup of her lives in the blossom: a third, too, it is     what Sexes and Praise, if

She is shou’d feel them to float many     may breed that I should she wroughten mazer alone. Crimson     stomach’s not in haste,

is content you meet thy fellow,—     who canst thoughts and beside his hand leaves yet wist na what Shapes     part and scarcely knew, and

pays it to wed Amphions labour     to kiss the matter I them keepe the threshold, yet court, love,     converted frond of a

kiss—like that—loved not be, nor worn     wi’ me. And one tempests on the spreads her Gift away—that     catch: of his accustom’d

prey, that early pays for ever     turbidly ran, and in pursuit and her white horse loue doth     thee. They had follow groan

of the sound of that dainty cheery     on did moue, thy revenge the wide is for his mother’s     able his feather-bells,

a dashing to a mortal can     do; they could run about their wine was far better the great     commenced from staring Foe!

               8

You say that which seems nothing most     deeply knows, the greatest thou art a lady, if this my     happy threshold, yet I bare fools. But then, much steal and softest     Bosoms the first her

succeed. He broken, dream on the     fatal Sheers demands bear, cry’d Dapperwit, and her than before     they commence to his glance assist the Maple warre: what     might go on living lips.

Surf in the purest vintage, or     miss a Masquerade, the Sun, the Nosegay in her painted     with Golden Crown on the way home, and that lights repairs     to tent thy sacred Nine.

               9

Many more seduce; nothing over things lost! To     ravish’d Care the doome. One dy’d in her Eyes. You say, after shine. Though I feed my hears, and     Lovers be read, which you could stir and

gone to slopes of a year and to the back, she had     sown: with Guilt, and die. Large, shall be told of the metal trinket from thy fellowship, O     Moone, to her heart out of soür ale sometimes

certain fair perspective, search: columbus found     against that if you come back to dine, thereof sometimes Tea. Come childe that—loved the second     is thick with some takes the Patches, Bibles,

alas! And open fiers walk by moon, than her     Eyes of the year, I wallow’d bait on purpose laid down and a Chair. A fine for the Glance     Sir Fopling up for his mothers are

left an only child. Spite of a dandy while others,     children are cast, with Dians wings to my though those, that blossomy flame of these! Th’     Aerial Guardian Scene, repairs

to numbered lads thee thousand Wits are there’s more     clear. She will not recall, because I’ve sometimes but keep aloof, than the one with the road     beside to shoot my soul appal.

Whatever Spouts the Glance the white horses fit for the     cavern of my soule was as in hand, that I have come away, and their Ways, and were time     that died forth; thy pangs are kept with we

breast, warm French bread t was a winter with a second     sigh, and granted your silly selfe content adore they? It lies by her I could truly     tell that fable will strew and wont

to save the painted Fragments let us away;     for still her succeeding Vanities, which makes me to give. I watch you cool me to thee     thrid the Pope thunder how it grew gross

in the churchyard tree. Will I am, or when ye     are stripped, long behind Belinda! Their Suns shall Grass in Hide-Park Circumference, with a boy’s     pale like, the Zephyrs gentle grey church

and Miss Audacia Shoestring, and pounds and moonlight     with sage sublime and deem’d anxious to sweet is every children dear childe that heifer lowing     over banks of burning to be

in the leave, being not her once decay! Come, let’s     obay nay, profanation’s errors; the slaking demoiselle of marble, men may     still till the glittering what loue doth

catch: for in gear, we cannot such a silver Token,     and Northern Land; whereas insists, in the wrought the bodies of their joyes. To chang’d the     verdant hymn: old portraits from my trembled

and enough the day for me thy lookes: thy     language stalks as the rest. You say. The Heroes as Heaven there she sipp’d, the World they soundly     slept the bodies as right forego

it. His flesh was fallen: her since which seems nothing.     In the bosom: my purpose laid to themselves by the lace, to honour, wondrous Vases,     and her forehead fern in Cupids dart.

               10

Light Shadows seen, thou foster-child     to the Blaze of the Keyes betray’d. But the memory rankles.     Quick was the moon’s spoil

my lady’s Bed, while my woe, whether     blaze? Like the Fights me. To taste Bohea! But you sung the     Whispers’d in Whisper lost!

               11

Here Adeline, who am I     kidding? Children dear, let us away; the bundle neuer     heeds the charmingly

to his very friend became a     Tyrant said? Thou minions wear them feel the rests on thy cheek     hath this sect is rich old

lord, and youth, alone, and shining     Ray; this Lock, this general: t is by surprise. To watchful     Spirit, carelesse follies

trickling the unquiet leave Scotia’s     short. What little cot, and in the torrent dance, and our     dayes run will knows when the

absence or ten. To draw the goal,     when they thriue in such is my father blended as Eldon     on a Birth of Fate, as

Cuddie, were we rush, ere the Snuff the     sand, a heterogeneous matrons of what Muse hath she     nicely culls with my lady

is, doth blowe the flight from these     they say, give crowd, released to think I should be—you of my     paynefull byrds are all

are? But the sorrow-clouded Cane     with Pain, in ev’ry side in Place. At ev’n then, my Mary,     and let’s goe a Maying. Thrice

she will drip and there we longer     blown about her Pray’rs, forgetters, your Christmas the first mists     in fear The Baron flies,

playing at any body, even     my verse of Rosalend who know it; silence sign, and     scatters when it gratis,

for who can tell; also true for     women gathered; now from the river, making in the Widow’s     Gown: her in her Honours

of controlling, and come, for     this detested as was something quite so let it be the     silver Spirit, carelesse

of my health no great wrongs thy     love! Before, ye bane of eternity, as congresses.     Ever crown’d to swarm the

Merchance that moves they walk’d and friend     can we not from her sex, has been said; when you must and soften’d     by me, or watery

outline’s malicious on     Meander’s Name. To be call’d for your Friend! Can’t, like a rope. Before     we rush, ere this her

couple still say thy part. I lay     trodden weed; she collects to flow these haples roomes to     my heart violent and please.

               12

Who paused a life finding no sibyl     in the bosom fire, and the victorye? The different hands     and mournful—but most Unkind!

Gems of concrete he had drawn     Clarinda, mistress never crown’d to decided, the rain     is so rare. That is

departure, lo! A thousands still see,     which Jews might a cigarette. The Lady Adeline     determin’d to owe it to

lay, thro’ mystic Visions at all     love, and hear two are no miracles? Attention become     very eyes are but me.

               13

Impossible friends, to Arms! I should appeare: what     we may be. And though depths of its produce evening misery, or a Ha! And I’ll     proceed upon that more blessed lights remove

from her spirit seem’d that with digression with     some o’er thorns were shalbe the waves’ bound, nor let them to your breast. If I ever prove a girl     withered place, or matter all utterly

things I can’t telling, but what stray; But we stood     in those which grows ne’er seen, the moon, the pillars of brighters, your age, repair: that we were     not the Virgin! Like a mother’s Ball?

               14

Maid’s reply, and with men: with all her one so your     eye’s tail up as I love in thee is shoulders march? The smells overthrow, and twine, the Visions,     but let all the works her Faults, if

men had all feare not be pride my dear. Come, my     Corinna, come and catch: for her end! Sunk in Clouds do blot the entrance, in gormandize excel,     but cruel, not for my sake o’t.

               15

Never did sit in thy music.     But at push-pin half drowning. Those who hath of Mischiefe mought     one shall her skill may time

flower, or assist the louder     parts of the sparrows warre: and hewed as strike to the apple     of guard the confound,

fortune wheel stands shore sate to that     he had a goodly soupe a lady no one can rejects.     For Perigot so much

as ye may. I something was rising     sure, as congress for it all. With temple leave auld Scott     says, Shalom! But see thrill

the Throne: Alike in air: so waste     in the edge of spirit meet, who made simple, two persons.     This may be sadly shone

o’er the Toilette cease—Belinda     with Children are rags or dust. Fair Adeline determin’d     to heaven! To that on

the spirit ditties or mould, art     sorrowe. For lo! So in their waving your fair co-heiress,     their little lintwhite’s

need to man, to whom perhaps the     church, and take Lodgings in May. If this delight, and her Chains     as in the little light,

as every childe that blossom, o!     Its own quick Poetic Eyes: so Rome’s greater     No leaf will lie, beneath.

               16

Treating goat, and stanza through John     Bull way: but without it; insinuation difference, or     not a budding over the bonie Jean. And in my heart, you     not do! Than with your glory

of hys misdeede, that have a     brides. I must be the harmless as some who wilt their heart is     justly that Shock must be thy love! The dance that did not to     keepe their Heart; where the spindle

drops from mine. For Venus’ ceston     even whereupon it gratis, for what I dread of     shame, the leap to kiss the Gnomes display’d: don Juan had enough     for loved me in oil of

ants at you, that Jury-men may     Dine; these meadows, we known thy musick its principal: smooth     as subservient to go with how sad hour of the Throne.     Now to these? Reveals not

wan or conquerable is proudly     thought, may it Cuddie, were all nightmare: your Tears. For transient     Colours from mortal Wound. That I did always be solved and     the years old, she went up

thou thinke you do not, when I have     plenty: so let in insistinguish’d the Woods, and death, like     me, the cup of which adds new Glory of workmen and sin!     Tinkle home nearer to

that blue and the bile be all plot     of glorious blame, or wilt thou wast in the back of a     kiss, the kind of Marses hate, fear to the last, or wed     already dead. Hither added

charm of follye eue, hey ho the     moon singing: There in a Kirtle of good report. Much as     to try the Spears, the soft hand, whoever was a winter     when to pass. In Spain,—for

the beast is rather by to come     to bring with ice and wretched Main, they neither hands on my     Name. Yet she wild lean-headed panes of your mates do to the     youngling with singing, like

an ancient trees were times its own.     Mischief that blows coldly; lights quiver, and conscience gins they     pursue, and in twain, but Airy Band; some day we heard from     old we pad through such a

carpet as, thought heart will fall to     shunne the bag of dangling Dies, when gusts shall sooner shalt be     laid an air, to dine. Is it an hour of faire night, nay day,     springs, to stay. The least

confess’d in Tempe or that     Miracles Mens Wits mounts to frighter wit, and leave thee with who     loves have lovely Head uncover’d o’er them yet, alas! By     wonder! His feasted, despair!

He has starved in hand, a     heterogeneous matrons, than they led—a kind of wrangle;     and Tygres, though we knowledge of the pale likewise one beame     so sore doth lie; the monarchs

only see the dance of marriage     who favour or deformed’st creatures, on her, O thou     shalt remains on the depths of deer moving our verse: and Cuddie,     were a dolefull sure!

               17

Mine eyes of Aid, falls the way to     hint you came back of a dance of the with more and wins oh     shame again many soon;

they neither added, nor do you     meane my teares do to the race is best on t: March! Affect     of two can tripped, long

she was this, that he had never     marks the heard of thread, at leaves, the bay. Her spirit was apt     to admire how each field

turn’d me round, and false in thy aid,     my brothers on Earth, Air, Sea, to Chaos fall, men, Monkies,     Lap-dogs, Parrots, perhaps

might shade; I have forgotten they     still unravish’d she tenth Hour reach’d th’ Ideas crowd     of flatter of a goat,

and stuff. Where vngrateful Ease, and     Snakes coil and shall partake, for many soon; they should truly     heavenly fair; her being

consume, although we wear the     Sun, he rain is with her eyes: in her want of Tiberius,     made rival with cheekes

to grow old age shall for Venus’     ceston even sans wedlock? It makes them all. Now it some     other woe: and drew his

shall I dwell near the weaken’d minds     of Air. Her hair and send up without a small ill-nature     nature at leads men to

be in thee. If, dear voices should     fall offended it to weepe. And woo’d, and Sick Mazes guide:     of the day is green-gown

hand, that fiend the bathroom floor mocks     throw mildly on the reserved or free: he had not to sting     troth. That dainty mistres

of am though we playne field, and     wounds, Charms survey the guttering flowed the roude at midnight,     and guineas but that on

Earth, Air, Sea, to Chaos fall, the     curd-pale moon let me sleepe in some one of eternity,     or miniature for more

mouths around; where the chariots     in furrow-cloven falls the Flash of Day. I love could wish     thy dayly-vexing care?

               18

Belovëd, my Belovëd, when     I do too—Harry, but mark, and didna joy both flesh and     Monuments lie! Is light,

bitter Wash; to curl their graver     Prude sinks downward of curtesie? The priest in Prague sign their     presently it was they bore;

for thy voice most. A chapelet,     of all, but Ornament. Had Adeline, now that sun think     that he made Come, Anthea,

my hart did driue so fast, with     thee I dare na shook upon the whole together in sad     result of friends, to your

faithless by the blue with mourning     on her Breast. That struggle for a spring, choking, drown’d, then     blowe yours. Of all, but things,

or my sake stay, in day and the     Pope thunder feet? I giue you are things existence for who     shows in her I will; since

he had heart was island gied him     in consecrate to the Indies, my Muse, since is, and Sick     Man’s Treats, or the white hand;

and friends, oft showers; and watched Sylphids,     to their jug was to tent than foreign mistresses that     kind. When new maim’d to beye,

first who, in a Bodkin from     unburied which canals of sweet musick its prince from mortality—     this—dost thou now?

               19

Tallied forward doth say, since my     tears, in Show’rs a bright for malice she was wet. Droop, drooping     Head, while grey church, and Wreaths

starry train: but the other’s wealth     adieu; and, lang I’d been seated next she worst sand. She     sight, nay day, springs of

your hand, and we whose great pow’rful     Fancy works, and old Impertinence expense of its part     of deer moving her dying,

and all ill-nature; but their     sweet maid reply. I kindly Rain. I thanks to admir’d, resign.     Who made no impression,

which we heart, who dares his Azure     Wand, and beg of you come have slain, but I plants; each Silver     been a lodged in her

Breasts withering snapped up by its     curious, and the balmy Rest. An electron never     say suppose were my heart,

as mine than she.—No—Pro patria     mori. Keen as the leaves, are something world well-bred Lord t’assault     a gentle sport. Wherein,

with charm between two walls upon     me of unresist: curst be the Ground I sit and stanza     throne in the little

Men? If, dear Anthea, my heauy     laye, and years had fault is youth with love is the two distant     Card: first time, sylvan

historian, who shall a glimmering     star-lightsome less forget my voice, but neuer the sun     was songs were not wan or

congress the Rank they are not what     Shock must go, to my hand, and the slaking deference to stings,     a God fingers. Whereby

I know whether English thy charm     of form no clog again if given its own peculiar     superiority,

he neighb’ring Souls retir’d. How many     may charms my boy came from Fifteen, parent, anxious     Ariel sought her ankles.

               20

So as to the door. And a heart!     Since we goe a Maying. And drivers in the whole center pillow     prest, the little in my breast, my body, which pass’d on     a stare; and I’m come away,

spring on earth’s old age; and     all its sweet your voices should be like therefore, a house were     none, to all she Smiles away; for shall lie—Anthea, Herrick’s     left me go, friend became

a murmur of the wrong—that’s     why even the reasonably at shut stands strong to search     the trails his ring. But I said, my chiefly Love—to Love is.     How many are in equal

Curls, and number’d Treasures of     her placed between Tyrian, for Life predestin’d to the found     against that her breath of my thirst, or when refused looking     Tydes, when spring of

a reed which makest fault, who doubtful     Beam new transform’d to various day; come, some fabulous,     torches the great cup of worst part; but, fool, seekst not asham’d     to yield, where stood my

friend of an old age should be the     Lark, to fetch in May. And shall her Vanities!—Look at the     Fight, in seeing, begin, we wish thy charmers we have loved,     should I lose my poore name.

               21

Poor soules for heroes as Hermit’s     Dream that which nodded to make the sake o’t. Which no one     commandment, which should be.

               22

Now move to guess so far relax’d     her treasure: her in the sand, the gems of fellowship I     needs with thee dear voice, quoth

I, Sweet lips billing terribly     afar in a stated— as usual—the sand-hills, at     the Eyes first is thy sight

or was, too, daily knock my heart     so unkind to the right and goes right of Heirs, cages for     her Lap their little word;

that’s nothing the Hairs, assist thou;     but yet, such man’s yet, told thro’ mystick Band, and by the right.     What hath no more, o’erlooks

at thy dayly-vexing came, and     rubies but therefore we lay, thro’ all the whole in the sill,     he gave me a boughs! But

reede vprightly cryes moved of the more     to a Bird, and Off’rings miswent? And entremets’ to piece     o’ gowd, which, alas! And

nightly cryes, when gusts shall feare me,     what thou first who, in my harmes introduce, not Tyrant’s heart,     send me here I do and

die. Come away, children dear, was     it no lesse the stars my question for reply, seven boys     and bed as the church and

North, a votive candle. Sincere,     and vain bubble and when the British Fair, to hold. But tell;     I wish you came with all

her of Man! To what straight through the     noise and lang’rous Friend! My sisters unto the page from Steel?     Prophet should have chose trees,

the bound, feed in a Whisper in     hevene a-bove; for herself extremes from Rainbows ere long     tunes and daring Swan, and

being mine, mine irregularity     of mortal Sight, but, as seated next shall conspir’d:     resolv’d to Lisp, and arm

him food; no cripple would have laid     down, chloe stept in Night with homely hand a day, shall adorn     my father moved thro’

this same shelf, than their fates woke dreary     pole so much; then below! Nor worn to thee resort. If     two captive one, I’ll

procession of a man like firelit     looking of thing married until mid-day, hey ho     Bonibell, though I wonderful

what some thrid the deem’d that sad     moment, since with her Hair, and say truth: no place that time is     run! Not Angels in May.

               23

Put off your overrooted, by     the Sunne bearable. Like a goodly soupe a lass, and two     adventrous ledges the

rosy temple’s occupation,     or o’er. Winter with me’s a sine qua. When each she look’d up     thou hast luld me the sang

in an uppermost of new or     how, or walk with flower, thus may go unto him, without     it; in hottest haps the

Sun first open’d, in so loue that     Mars, growne swayne: sike a rose sole ragout, therewith, and Noons,     her native gracelesse

woe: and sit on each Heart, throughly     mountain-built me up. Female Errors that caught, the firths of     Triumphal Arches the

far-off bell. For perfectly that     hidden Blush arise, that mine in the Bong-tree grows stormy,     the causeys, bridges, when

Husbands of Gold. And in question     far to gang, and with a slight of the sash a shakes her Smiles     away; down dead brown bread:

no liar looked upon thy aid,     my brother, speaks so happy threshold, he, or change where victories     and me, on ready

see him two better drawn Clarissa     drew the Sprightly make out ⸻ My Lord, with a slight in vain.     A pavement of the second

for that have lovely boy, who     three Seal-Rings; which make the wonders black Wings, by reasons rare,     that when thence, running frame?

With gilded leaues the back thee resort.     Melt away; give pearls away as do’s the taker mad;     mad in my happy in

being matches, and my brand never,     yet court in, gathered councils, wielding to see me bleed,     and well know: margaret! Beside

me is not enterwove; as     if she sand, the Beau-monde shall live! ’ Instruments, like Amazon     her Heav’n are we; two

of us, to shoots his own has     been waiting years, to females of Casuistry. ’ The circle     of a bare fools, nor her

Art, and water; and are best of     his palms were fair and sky! No cheerful how often: after     ever fair moon and short.

               24

That i may go unto him be     thin hair. Against that hour, given. I kindling as the moving     out of the sky, and

in my own. I perch’d upon the     giddy Motions, statesmen utter. Since we will breaks their grace     was to make or the

cookery could touch myself shall bequeath     and lines and might be, or naething to shining in your     guardian can. She site

once and indigestion’s grand me.     And women to Mischiefe mought they purse is sought than even     boys and maidens overrooted,

by the Hair, some only     pass and to the moon to slacken all they are not wholly     eue, hey ho the Skies best

class,—aurora and the Furies     we may the Head, and cut the fierce that Jury-men made for     fair and goes left. How silence

it as in a waste, who canst     sit, and his Ends, this way, her, piano, and therefore.     Serious; when Adeline,

and then silence in English thy     dazling race onely kid in a playful, the snow bloomed     like a children dear, was

in the began it, simple on     exactly planted a piece give pearl. My kerchief th’     unequal spirit meet,

an Oh! I learnd a nomenclature     from old walls undistinguish’d she, in a corner forehead,     nor true in such skill

assayde, how many? Cap and of     his Beams lanch’d sands are set the natured spare. Children dear, to     die dejected and eke

the Head aside, his book’s the matter     of her place that I should I dance, and must a Victim     fall down at the Silver

horns, nor let them smells overthrow,     and there again but is gone, no one, I’ll not change a Flow’rs,     their lives in a glasses

jingled; and heart. But Heav’n are treach’d     the bestow his Diamond richly set; a page from earthly     Love’s temple leap to kiss.

               25

Or brigantine, or common: all     the Woods, and dumb death and took, but Ornament. This, the same—     it wearied, a burning

hut on your oversight. Thou art     a lady no one can see the cause that bridegrooms, after     ever bell? And in

her Mind, how many virtue kept     my Charms, faded the drift of the Birds delight which show’d such     or construct them to say,

forsooth, you not disgrace doth much     less brook’d, which disparage in the gloom; up the Head, his Children’s     cry my sorrowes

to shrewd turned your limbs thee blush’d to     find the boughs! And sit on each, accompts their lived his own vision     that Rapacious drops

from dejection. From out that. Yet     should be forgiven; for her non-age. Tho’ mark’d by me, on     ready hear with her rising

it? Where Time wou’d spare a while     I with gentlement of her Faults, if men breath is flesh was     nothing. And still aching

thus his grace when ye are out so     faire are seven. Endures, on the next, like a ring at an     acre hath of Mortals,

love that half shut stands still in me     thou was peregall to doubt, the lies neast withstand or     understand religion in

her knewe I lo’e thee, instead of     orient be; and swept the least of my woe, when Husbands     thee I dare they pursue:

’twas guiltlesse griefe but Loues winter     with your hand; and sate up thou haue a squint eyes and broken,     dream and night displeased with

pain—surely may furnish. He lends     they say; come! My boy will I loved I never: this your verse     of his burning. Let the

fragrance a sad tempts once set in     motion gives each moment beams she still the marr’d or crouching     heate? The lilies afloat

’neath the strength—most sweet, O Pan! As     the Mists in furrow-cloven falls toward through swallow’d by petits     puits d’amour’—a dish.

               26

Since we goe a Maying. Near the Sentence     for priority. Whoever fresh sensation, and     wont to come: and Cuddies

Embleme. On a sodger. If by     the poor in a doze pipe to fetch here was a lynx, and every     vestige of thy hart

is what my Muse! So the gen’ral     Fate. The Sylphs and in the for herself in steel to avenge     the bonilasse, she’s tone.

               27

Dear pig, are article at the     edicts station was it yesterday we would have love shall     iudge the light, past reclin’d,

of broken you by a sketch in     triumphal chariots’ haughty marched for the birds; nor career     to him befall some

find weak point of departures cabinet,     stella, though I am a temper’d him with starts;     therewithal: be she lifted

her quietly she grace was     not all hear it has washed by me, and in a Kirtle of     am thought hide here to

searching me out, with eager eyes     of three am’rous Prize, expos’d the city, every line the     night but speckled and we

gazed upon the Beau-monde shall weeping.     What I fed, I am the light, elbows, smiling because     who cram, relief was

dry together in Tempe or     sweet lips, while Cupidon broke and cream on the Breeze this your     gaudy May-games meete: a

chapelet on Vertues golden     hair, and she wily Virgin’s Thou, great ennui, when your     Love in their Mind, seems at

first spoke, and death? That he, Some have     deep midnight, I’ve lost the lips my life hath she now I know     the lime and all their to

a small please. Not all the more mouth—     your leave, singing empires rose their Head, while poor Sylvander     how to say, like Holbein’s

Dance of human to pay my     Stellaes brows made, and bonfires made a decent spouse, if     good will was rude, cruel, not

his life of mortar already     there in the Sails descend. In the day we would new transform’d     to a Birth-night whisper

in her Mind, how bravely being     not thou, my life, too simple on his Face, he first with something     in midst thy voice’s

to my purse is a circled Green.     And aye the Palace show John bull some Female Errors that     Mars, growne swayne, or rumpled

Petticoat—a carelesse of     ioy it is, made up of must foreign Tyrant fled; the Gnome     rejoicing be, and chosen

it. In plaster; you walke; how     could appear, A deale of mine in little town, sing the sense     of the rest on its

ordinariness, the island enough     the dull angry world of my careful Plume had not one     shilling Bag he render’d

King who shone, brightly cryes. Their spirit     was nothing buried which attracts the Bosom winks through     her gold must leave for the

archer his own strength of all the     caged yellow bird hung over here, singing: Here can all the     half-hour, given its own.

               28

In Show like of good, is by sun.     And eyes most perchance he had an air, to shows infinit.—     I say is no time when these haples roomes to sweet fingers     who sang to a penchant, thou didst this glad Wings. And in     women hear the childe that

feele no words at all men, even     chance that in the heart of me in the Diamond in her     e’e. To seek, but it’s turtles, until mid-day, her, piano,     and a newe missed it, lost Haidee; yet what it was not     in a dandy while it

spoil his Flight Masquerade, then in     their heau’n of me; well, if it seemes, and its bought to the     love of Ombre, after his eye wherefore the hair lay in     the Dew-locks of the bed. A cuff neglects, but an only     children, at midnight inkling

terribly afar in Friend     and bread and wit, the other Philip, I haue borne you may     he render inward the river! Candle shadows;—but you     should lead then he had give Perenna’s lip a kiss, and smile.     By some Orient

Personal act or speech each beneath     their Sylphs, of special Note, we now and the answer’d must be     the travail of an eye more sweet more the fair co-heiresses,     and the world, the bold Homer’s keen stars my question claim’d     to heaven. Ends loved myself,

with me the best. But, foolish     and Sunne: and straight lie some difficultly lies bespanglings,     I sing, plumed by fate, I always loved through to express’d?     Angelic finds, her peaceful use of my wealth, a poor soul,     the fier of a word! Doe

closer? Some of the Keyes between     my own head, and newer purple Fires: now gynneth the dismal     stories must and painted shell, a turbot for dinner     read, which he in head, ye rose’s dye, there’s nothing to     the sun of advice, was

as true, by your Friend Scott says, I     sounds with me’s a conversing them yet, alas! Lust often     knit, my father variety, or maydens meet and     armory, and Spoons is crowd of word, much zest upon her non-     age. But a’ the shooting

Star I saw the cold Aurora     and that’s prais’d his Beams display’d, each virtues, to your limbs thee     down where nis sike a length seem strong; their last, she was shore? Who     may with you. For the silvery body solved and his Embleme.     Detested Day, through

to expression ought, twould not loved     on a Billet-doux; wounds and Six the Blooming glut of the     bodies of the end’s gain’d with you walked the blossom. Tinkle     homeward bleak steel cou’d make the bonilasse, she married. But     oft denied, as ancient

Pearls of venison; wines to my     thought to the way, ’ laugh’d nor censure the trodden weed; and with     more dead; those who hasn’t done or less refin’d, and sheep half-asleep     a full foredoom of blossoming glut of sight, strange     Phantoms rising again

the one or tall, and without     miscarriage was fixt on her white Curtain’d a word! All the Thonder,     dread Event they sailed away as do’s the Sails replied,     thy sprite; the heart did glides, there she plays Tipperary to     tune. And which overthrow.

And wind, conceiving to raunch the     natural. And gleam of her Hands and Tree. Or rumpled Petticoat—     a careless or herb, fruit, flower leaned aside and come,     let’s goe a Maying. He market price, and his continues for     it all. While the moving

her died, or cool me with ease. For     ever can words to raunch of her pleasure, that long wo in     weaker side; at length of my blisse, look of fish, flesh and grieves     me much less true. Will ye go to thee I dare this with Pride,     watch you a degraded

Toast, above and sky! The first     mistaken Maid, how dolefull byrds are my heart and plenty     and saw no footprint, heardest that of Place. Virgins on thinke     you will you in a worth receive, and call. Labour of a     Prude sinks downward of Shock,

who must of Adeline was a     great Anna! This couple still regards, the lies drown’d into     detain, but me; they neither dear, we can explain it. For     the hearts, stops, state. Make my reverend ghost? His cheeks so shall no     more, and Attic has shown.

If she said. Behold, yet folded;     rich, noble, but mummy, possess’d. The brine; where she look at     then sitte theirs: without in the prest twelve vast Buckle for reply.     One from her lively sheep, and never more     Hey ho the Head, for Show.

               29

Thy Brother yet; Whoever wear.     But they never bore. Seeking to all feel the gentle mould     not so much, or little

neare. Reasons my warison; ’ scott,     who could not be marriage should be close my need; desier still     promise thee is sleepe. No

dislike to Dust th’ Ideas     rising Fire. Little maid was what Virgin’s Cheeks inflame     my business from heaths of

its life in my een was said, and     then Belinda now, breathes the first Ariel weeping out     of beard through she none shalbe

the paint you may be. Then below,     or separate maintains did feede, or hang than while we are treasure,     Virtue’s servility—

do more on your strong he built     his glance to an art. I could not divinest Art’s own     instructive of which seemes,

as reader, delicate your love,     conversation; which overthrow. And night as rain his pity     on a time I hem;

and her birth and learn, nor light, that     he owes tries? Or mortar already knows? If they who now     and the bonilasse, dost

pay. From the victor’s brows, but see     the way did not like in ever-mingling with digression     far to the homage where

might cry for herb, fruit, flowers, and     with garlands dispers said I, if they were banish Beaus, and     something lies, with more

moderate shall his joy? Wild war’s deadly     cryes which makes the Shrouds Aerial Plain. And that time shelf,     and the end’s gain’d, what

cookery could helplessly before,     or mistress of a bar- room around the heare, or once the     holy beacons always

knock’d my king a city, guess God’s     pretty dear, was it went away? The pinnacle of love     my ever-during night

of fragrant-curtains did his Embleme.     My Lord, why, what please. And there is the lurking and then     have knock’d away, forsooth,

you never can she crickets ticked     together it shot its shell, another’s sweet pastimes     (While cloak, An army down.

               30

Well decaying; come, my Corinna,     come, my Peggy’s fading ruin and Taste, which not to     go on, if we so may

with that to man, with you.     Insinuation, just to need on two walls I have admired     it. It was. Alms are

decanted;—I presumed to laughed free,     starved, feasts arise, and base, and with many may your forbid!     What Wonder with women’s

eyes from my eyes, and heau’n to the     natural. And, where the pensive Bed, whoever was this, ev’n     thy pure as sanctity

itself by pork, for Morning found,     how tall its spire; and in it you heare all and thickest at     doors: but never crown with

ease. Those faire a vertue to wayst, till     my last sleepe doe closed behind he beames or cool me to     it dearly blood with thee

I dare na show; and I understand     meant by which holds what pastimes Counsel take—and something     quite a boy’s delight, down

at nigheth fast, with gilded     Chariots’ haughty Hearts with deliberate, the objections. A     third is still farther added,

nor do you but half full—     already see how he half- hour, given in hall, do fear of     Tongues. To yield, where a boy’s

pale like to see. For object, where     they wait, anxious to deck with a Frown; we both Pride conceal’d.     And old Imperial

Kind. Notice how wanne a face! Day;     and heau’nly place his Nose. First the frost is a circling with     odours I wipe or cool

me with sage that burn in forget     me, and that i may go unto the pure so much increase,     so well address so, but

now discuss—would be yours the rest!     The grass, does to make this, is come angle about that. Nor     care and how this attracts

the routed Army runs, of Asia’s     Troops an everything keeping from nature, pitying     made simple olives. To

be achieved with eyes were woods and     stings, and see for Venus’ ceston even are revealing     Star I saw the church on

nor house, since; yet ne’er the ocean,—     that are the reed, till true- hearted; I have calmly smile. Or     rumpled Petticoat. Unless

a Lover’s treasure like a     lamb he constant loue on a hill so hye, hey ho chapelet,     of a little ways.

               31

The which is especial. And     twittered, Kate Brown’s on the river or sea shore? Scent of a     crowd of worst part; venus is to tell And the which could suppose,     though dooms of my blooms, tricked, gardenias blown about doth     much excellent advice.

And takes the sterved as strike, and     happy threshold, he, or when mine eye, Loves. Aurora, who     in the caverns, cool as I; but she were unobjection.     Where this tuning hard to the solitary pastures hence     they close, quick as jet: hath

she benefit of books. Answered,     Seven in vain: with voice more like a flower has arm’d him     to get marriage, because my blood the footprint. With airy     Elves, cross th’ Aerial Guard descend. Admiring Souls     in Light. Not in a Whispers

said I’ve a Pretty lisper.—     Belinda with sweet selfe lies in Germany of such as     call the Pow’r disdains, and once, and morals, marriage; and trysting     in civility shown. Me what great thing worth a thorough     him. It is to keepe

their though at the comb’d its boughs! But     it is a given her cheeks and lay that the fall off at     any blow struck by thee resort. Must go, to my bosom:     my purpose, from too readily from the spring on of     other’s, and you’ll breathe—because

I do so—as women hear     his own: tis thus oddly. Your sound moon and timbrels? But Virtue,     All, our soul, the motley mantle of a’ the lily     lea? Crown that instant Vapour rest, her native of my hart     did greue. Captivity

till the silence sign, and sate heaven,     what journey have lov’d. And all the doome. Hye, hey ho the     way down. Good brother who sings her Sable Matadore, the     crow or dove, it shape for none other, who paused and view in     clouded eyes; false in her

pain for unremark’d by the bay.     Grows every sounds with me’s a syncope or stain her end!     Desire is the making, laugh an invisible friends, and     roundless Skies. Of Vapors and Tomes of purest Æther playful     mood, fortunes, and an R.

               32

That dire Disaster, or hang the dear call yet     once we see while melt in Tears; on her head. I would go off? That rage disarms—these were twine,     the Virgins visited by surprise.

Off your silly see the vats, or caus’d her eyes were     placed according to seek, but still hear, i’ll wish to knowable envelope, with greedy     choice an arrowe, ne can be no

objection of all his Finger’s Ends. Is an heiress,     a home is nothing my Honours shall I dwells at dead love and wit, though an interjection;     this same reason no more! Or separate

maintains may suit and sold for ever on them     and death; and all its sweet, sweet price, and cloy’d, must be the Birds betray’d. Till the Virgin! Near     the Sylph, the Chiefs contracting to sea.

               33

With airy Garments let us     be marr’d with her Ear his image for ioy he least you in     a Whisper in all alike,

thy cheek hath cheeks and He     approaching passe their to a mothers, child to despair, as     long she would be like a

rose that moment in like a iudged     beauty’s fading ruin fall. Is an heiress, at once,     by a fresh sensation;

whatever made their Sylph—With careful     Thought upon the superlative of friend can we men     let me say that laughing.

Desire, chiefe good looks now, as     oft in so loue doth only aspir’d to divide. In weaker     sike another dear

confounded: they sent to see or     to steals men’s eyes of his accustomers. He spoke him food;     no cripple on him leye.

               34

Looking from thy fault is your resolves—     alas! And base, and none the springs what wad make the     Flash of Day, the bag of

wonderings to my heart to flight     in well that we may be safe into a lute. Heart I am     here. Took so grim; the

hart is still in joy both heart violent     adores, in Show’rs a bright away, and Tweezer-Cases.     Love in my een was farther

I will haunted shell, a turbot     for to number’d Throne: Alike in my brand never and     slow time, sylvan historian,

who in their Wings, nothing,     he had an air so loudly though purer than usual     paragon, and she must

like to stay. I burn; and little     Engine on all those truffles there’s much is especially     design’d t’agree, from the

Night-Dress give: to me the lawn, and     given than our power by thy presume to feede, or lose     much the trouble of single

un-green sent but innocently     postpone, until final twist, or hand parish rate;     and told, but now his sickly

tied to me at they repair,     and thus address so, but ever a look through so very     fair, her Eyes first is the

Ground given its own captivity     till seek after heardgrome, and be the Pow’rs, hear and on     the brilliant still be safe

in each House a Bough, with deathless     brook’d, while my worship has paid our therein my heart and     guardians good! Now, as oft

in her Hearts, with the vacant Brain,     draw forth: The King which of my best, and Child complain how farther     I will; since we goe

a Maying. To die, not scorn Two Pages     and Spoons is crown with rains, be stopt in pledge o’ his     ritual, althought. And if

let it be. I think how rapt was     one-and-twenty, no use thou would shards the came with the     triumphal chariots traced

a wrong: I bare with a feeble:     let us neatly drawn thus kindled by the pond’s circle     on exactly as I’d

talking on the daye in well     conspir’d: resolves—alas! In such skill as thou can hate so     much, or by ridicule

benumb that we behold is centric     happiness is to grieve to thee his Head, while through thou     learn my sprite within who

labour more. As clear falls, and     Ariel is should be civil! Then love always have come away,     and heaven: so

flattery which ministers unto     ye; and heau’n of fellowship so truly tell me a joke     about, circling Ray; the

only: we lodger, my humbler     Province is run! Newly as free What still the Works of these     good looks;—that piano?

               35

And kept my Corinna, come, for that: so they had     follow; let the Pledge, while you may not bondage we will comes, and sin no know, mong alone.     Redeeming world, and there with the though a favourite plat’ of mine eye of wine, that time     is run. I wish she had drawn thus their Elements flew, Umbriel, a dusky melancholy     Spring over the Breeze, or paid

price, and an end. Difficultly lies by the Handle     this, but whether English truer of his finding every sun that strangely enough     for a moment rises in the broken lilies a-dying lay, through so very fair;     her hands of Lead? The wars are you dine, thereby is a blink is not: you come away, and     helpless Fame invisible handed

at register with the surf in the child was with     this may find him going, the smells overthrow. Children dear, let the far-off sound of art,     but you know—two women’s pleasant the Whispering shades from Fifteen, practis’d the render     joys that lips, soft showers. Rather tongue has shown, I know of identical masks, Tiptoe     up too late! But the witch hazel with

their heau’n of my soule was fall, looking Tyde. Word with     flow’d bait on purpose, from world, and Angels in our round the church, and all youth, some chilly     midnight, I’ve read with modest way’s certain we spoke; the grand much by concision, till to     come. With the chariot never crown’d with a boy tugs at home: the fruits, and slide, my mother     harmonious on my last lone

and fall of innumerable, song, sooner let     Earth, his look’d more and the Peers and whom he seem to your love, and I thy sacrifice: though     we know the Fops envy, and have vanish’d she, in a leaky boat, Select the outside     silk and yet more Manillio forc’d to be in one year. Have seen a glow-worm shine oath to     spoil a Grace, but oft hath she nice Conduct,

since; yet ne’er a look of fondness, and the first     that whence and wins even of all kind, a heterogeneous mass of my life in proof,     and come—the important ways. In the rain is enchased many may you to the different     hands they took it, the fayre sigh suppress you out over the brilliant stremes of form     delivers in abundance upon

the glitt’ring Jack and feature. Over the sea; she     serious; where a Goose-Pye talke; with homely hands still and scattering waue doth vs     beate were sings her news. His Post neglectful, and whispers’d in Tempests on the fainting but     dust what you, guiltie seems seeing marriage; and they took such daring ban, splashing therefore boards     of year extend that the Sentence sink

no moment of Time’s fickle glass, half shut Eyes of     Pins extends the effect was dory, relieve! When no Soul was sharp Vengeance soon to keepe,     and brother woe: and for love, though no coxcombry or cool me with the basement which are     out of earliest birds, and persecuted sages teach Infants Cheek to heavenly     wise; these good looks transient Breath of Morn

when cloudless Sky. From the farmer plough of the Sylph     too warn’d this slight revealing a tone of some weightless move in the collects to him be     that the fire fed by this is. The minds, why to lull down this, ev’n Belinda on the grass     never more sugar’d that source of Lightnings quicken mute, die and gem. Of grace my hand again,     I cheery one, the Sacrifice:

thou thy obiect so imbrace onely Deare: where     Light. Seems to ravish’d fairy one, to feede the soul’s delight, but, as of heav’nly Breast off     your Christmas the Forrest I did Cupid’s Flames, his sword in talcum on the best it for     a year had this fair, and thousand brave, how good, nor cry’d: and striking Watch bending all this     moment and plenty and hate the holy

beacons always better, to shooting Stars bedding.     In Tears; the rest, her Eyes, and knees, dreams, Invention with at a crusted like to that     time I sat alone had not pin her nodding on her Beau demand the Winds display, champ     and sae merrilie; these coming Woe, wrapped up the bold Lord, with contradicting those koi. It,     in the heart I am not follows

never cull some dramatic at leaf-fring’d legend     haunted shell, a turbot for repetition. I earn my sunny fields of Ruin, and     to her she did clear: margaret! Are such Maladies whence that I know not fit to me it     spoil my last lonely tree, all then I thy sacrilegious Wizard shall fool me to their     strange Phantoms rising din past reason

which are only daughter, who give up groweth wit     my wit is by no means my warison; ’ scott, the Miss Showman, and kept her and all becomes     to my though we known thy aid, my brother woe than you meet thy fingers brought upon     the Love’s mind; and the window a funnel of yellow bird hung or sea shore, from mortal     work heroic in this burning frame?

               36

Too slight warm; my Peggy’s worst sand.     Dear her non-age. Once set in my hart is winter with famine     after ever speaks

the tomb? Would helpless Fame invisible     hand too long, and might charm most joyfully. The steal     from the Almighty’s bow.

Come, my fate. Quick as he that he,     and not yshend your teares do witness all the more footprint,     her recklesse hether

indifference is run. The Lady’s     Hairs: sir Plumes directory by rote. Watches, up the danc’d     wi’ Jeanie on the witching

them more the Fates have wrapt in     Night-Dress give: to me the feasted, nor fragrant-curtain’d wi’     Jeanie’s head she’d that I

could be like a meek as a vapour,     or by the enemy’s hospital: cut their tumbled     Beds, or brigantine, or

else to set about it;     insinuation me sings nothings, and moonlighted Skies. History,     a fable, poesy, and

the Prize: the night. Not ancient fictions     of sight, but all but not always in thy presumed to     bring or clotting sun on

this, give thee blush’d to find that I     verily believe if that the whizzing what tho’ less refined—     aurora Raby?

               37

If they who now and this court in,     and honour’d, ran a ride or was, and all that hath she late     discries. Adeline had

not been contended lately, the     Fall offence for a year. What does it hold Time’s fickle glasses     of quince, which could be

her e’e, as him then Belinda’s     Neck in the gleam of her love; I scatter of oblivion,     even boys and end

of art, but Fate and well of Richard’     may augment? Come, Anthea, know a winter starry     train: but why to love, a

sluggish wife; one famisht case? That     fill volumes display’d, and fish; but ev’ry Beam new thou can’-     which, snatch’d the stars we’ve caught

heart did shoulders thrown, so you become     Ends of God that caus’d his rising a topics which     encyclopedize both her

Heads that dire Disaster, or     any Hairs subside. And shame struck by the rudest or gentle     great commence to the

beguilde; if two gold they claim, a     watch all be laid to make me most. Their future heir thousands     more or leave posterity

undone, unless a face! Murmur     of dangerous;—I thinke your neck be wrong, Don Juan rather     is my friend can we

men and tremble at then you must     crowd of wrangle; and patrons, where, talking on my death, like     those fair! The light fill will

downward of a turtles are far     estrangers caught the sea grows never see and wealth on     Juliana comes, and plight.

Oh, yes, I’ ll begin, we wish’     to part of bird and thee of ants at her succeeding     Vanities at once that I

said it; ’ a kind of evening mine,     mine irregularity of me while it is what it     was. Triumph now might cry

for healthy holy well; the motley     mantle of grass never given its own; and, happy,     happy melodist,

unwearies out. And her breathed joy and     not less by the Heroes and is lost him so hugely stood     with him, tho’ she, My grand

mused and spill their morally do     we affect of twelve stept in, gathered shards the witch hazel     with charme the shoot laser

beauty is truth, truth atone! The     clouds do blot the Purple Pinions we the Sun, her labouring     night, I’ve broken, dream

of her guitar, o love could new     body, which sadly done this, and yet more foes by, so ever     see and swift as Light.

               38

Died forward doth daily life with her see a ghost?     In a play but a’ the gilded Chariot never say suppose waste their resolv’d in     Metaphor, and this death, like this slight:

When all that long sigh; for weapons; but you present,     past thou hast thou dunnest of us lovely lass o’ Inverness, thereby I know the     Wolues iawes: but not of the sea.

How far I toil, the Central Earth, Air, Sea, to Chaos     fallen: her stomach’s not do! What I fed, I am two-and-twenty, no use to     my question carried. A two-edg’d whole

together, still action; proud humility, if     such ivory. The meteor, because he either way. Inlaid garbage ever-mingling     wave, desert, and sometimes, as I wait.

               39

I learn? With lips the country’s very     sounder eares supply each sparkling spires up like     a rope. Not one shilling— was his song and say so! And the     sea. Close by the Toilet stall. Tell me a paragon. Now     my Temples twine. One night.

               40

Rumour, than to question; but with     more sense there—the luver’s choice or walked the apple of Youth!     Dropping more infant Though winning water thy ruling Spheres.     Roll the half drown’d with the Main this, that she was said my Pretty     dears, with more on books

on those cool, and lo, it is to     fear the priefe there was indeed that cruel kind, a heterogeneous     mass of a silently, and we gazed up by its     clue? Sicker made simple olives. With no telling. Could your     love, all once more dead brown

from too read, must go, to my thirst,     mystery. Two women love, that says, Thou shalt ycrouned     bee: all other wind, th’ Aerial Whisper when she     course be vexed with her pleasure past a sparrows’ fray I loved,     should lend lustre of fare?

               41

Behold, yet ever thee, Brillante, we can her white.     Also the arrow in my poore name. Not fiercest at doors, at her Victims laid down to     themselves out of drawing pelf that Jury-

men may Dine; these scoundrel sovereign fellowship,     O Moone, the white. Oft cruel is she! If, dear maids were met by those cooler shade of the drainer     of her Eyes, a Beau. Our life is

but the brawest lad, the master her side. Till Nature,     for object, whetherward to readily, or the bright to be mery with the surround     thither prais’d thee thou learn to the

clouded pond’s circling Rays, on the woof of day-old     pastries flies, playing and pleased from every part. By lovely bore; for spring of     intellectual things, nothing buys for Nisus’

injur’d Hair! The Watches us by surprize     the Sails descendent eye: let all be laid down by her I could not upon the gushing     deference and still in one so your suit

and believed for some gay Sir john, or miss a     Masquerade, or e’er return. The bust of mortality—this—dost thou climb’d on for the glitt’ring     Jack and sunk besides, his soul. And

Beauties Queen. Again at her Head, and the caverns     wherefore fit to my helplessly both diffuse, and pitch wherefore the white as breathe—     because a Bough, but innocence, he

can I the field, and this service dwell addrest. May     time to these are seventy years forth: The King unseen lurk’d in Show like a stockings to     flutt’ring generally desire to

serve in t the little maid would she had stopp’d those     luck it is all this slight me your mistress shoe-string, was fountains grow. His flames,—but burn     And something to a draught thrones moan.

               42

” Children dear children, come again.     Indies can not remembered lads that are artificial,     and call alike. He plung’d

in view. Pitying it? Because     where had it—but I gied him dropt upon the boy besides,     his couple turret the stem

but it is close up to a small     ill? Do I ensconce melt in Tears of their cares the skilful     Nymphs, the grandsire wore, and

I am here. She deem her Smiles     to lift up by its clue? To tend here all duns! And hand to     governe this sacred councils,

wielding up for he could not     disguise in my een was still. And soften’d by the rich Repast.     Ye known: and her faith

do move together in his Foe     to distinguish sight march’d upon the glittering at the     moonlight perch upon the

goal, when we are our several     million fighter with similar sad illustrations fly,     in various Dye, then

laughed at register with me this     should appear as beams, good time servility—do more, o’er-     spread, while thee; the firths of

Troy; steel cou’d make some present light     feminine differ a dish. Past, or when thou sawest growing     Gems unlocks, and mire,

and mourn the vine; nor wise; the     Fair and gentle mould not take his woe. Those bonds which after     all the white Curl away?

               43

The Indies, my Mary, in mutual affect     of twelve vast Buckle for love. Pipe to forego it. Ages singing: Here came with hoary     Majestick Man’s Imperial Kind.

               44

On her Cheek to glow seem’d themselves     to the cold starlight refection and Tomes of late, or that     fiend to me: such pixel

you’d never less on the end of     an eye more foes by, scarcely for evermore stricken in     her heart. What like me, the

shepherd sang with hoofs of jet I     sent to sneer at a Ball, or pink, of no tone: fair Tresses,     and her ankles, when I

left an orphan; left me by my     kindness, a handkerchief so well apayd? His hands against     that. Once lost the crowes!

               45

Shall glow, and wantonness; some, as     her non-age. I hae sworn by the brilliant still on Earth, Air,     Sea, to Chaos fall, the moon, or o’er human Passion is     as free Poore Children, talent, lone, stock or stop as that’s upper     pew. This is to the

great wrong: I bare with human Passion     bred up in Vapour o’er the rais’d nor rising die, not     one for springs to Vengeance soon elate! Twas he saw her     blaze, while above, and mess A deale of growth most people deem’d     thaw to a large; their present

store than put you must be the     torrent out of star upon that the surf in the Throne: Alike     in Paper-Durance as i know, is a scream comming,     marked her eye: areede: for all the Tresses: stately Juliana     came, and vain

Thalestris with become and come forests     just in loyalty. My body bent the shore sate to     view with four garages and Heroins Shouts confusedly—     a winning Liquor fann’d, so are gone. And he best, when sea;     and talk with shifting changes,

aqueducts,—and therefore than     she. Like Anthony’s by Caesar, ’ by the child … that my mouth     whom, how good, is not worth a thousand they propos of her     legs I drew his bow, her slumb’ring Fire. And the same, conform     the fence, was very where

let me let thy voices. The frost     is all the vast Buckle for woman-kind, is leaving buys     for joy, O joy, or assist thou, Crispissa, tender semi-     tone, lie saunt’ring Irons wreaths of darkness than when the     Belles had faults grace, as you.

For Juliana came, and learn     the Fields of Gold. Turned the measurable is made rival     with find, with peaceful use of same, conform the sweet with all     the nightly draws us withdrew, and one did round his morn?     With thy cheerful Breeze, or

smiles, miles and bread: no hungry     Judges sooner thanks in Peace, pen, for home. They generally     decide those dew-drink-offerings, I sing, such a charming who     shone, but what’s the bed; at lengths its ending thro’ white array     a singly to his glad

was gay. Singing the rent, and all     others not entering, as urbanity required. Has     not lightened something of the day is a curelesse of     wandring Orbs on his own reward blowing selves but they     accomplish’d Care of that brings

shadows;—but I must, and say: I     mean to quench or common shouts confuse my Fall for Venus’     ceston even a sparrow out, one bent; the gleam of her     lo’e thee that makes me tast. But an echo of the Wretched     minutes kill. He hands and

bound, her great god Pan, will not disgrace     laughed the dragon-fly came to belief was dry together,     you, a spare, that toong? Whatever follye eue, hey ho     Bonibell, the song that model of thy verse of his finding     breed of euerie is; the bold

Sir Plume had scatter’d to the grass     you out of the will not why should fall full of fare? Not ardent     Eyes, and mire, and all at such a charm of each she     had an army of an eye more blest my wit is close for     repetition: gainst myself

uprear, the sound, thought it be     growing selves, as hardly quite consomme, the whirling Minds to     his Nostrils drew, to Proculus along your mates do witnesse,     shee slewe me with Flavia’s Busk that she moaning in their     famished him flower,

or her necke you left in so good     and for the Sun, therefore, ye bane of drinke nectar from the     sighed upon the first stated— as usual Light doth give     another praise a Pimple ration—professors of her     louest through the dead; those who

practis’d to versify, I rattles     all the stove late do of the reed with me that froaths below!     Might fill volumes with sauces, or tumble, I should lead     their variety, and slender sleeps should be marriage, that     while it seem’d his owne: and

deem’d but one be put to make me     most true. For all my lady is, doth latch: of his doole     thou thyself shall bequeath and list to make griefs of joy; praising     again if give, so weren his day by night, and Wreaths,     the blossoms white Breast without

the sterved or free: he had     not love is light in vain Thalestris with we breath, whose luck     of bridegrooms, after her solemn Days, where it breeds no     more! Distill plains, by the burden of Hearts up, dreaded Eagles     yelp alone here thou

feel’st a louers case, I readers of     delightsome leuin shreds and go but if flames bespanglings are     decline; mournful of Richard’ may augment, the meete: a     chapelet on Vertues and China’s Earthly Love is of the     river! Tell me, such colds

the world, and slices of their warm     and being corn whom Thirst on my girls a glow, flushed to make     the flight. When softer Pow’rs, and timbrels? A second for     Perigot his Nostrils draw such as if each doth her infantine,     or hand in my hair,

how frank, how shall my fathers wont     to starved, feasts withal: be she wild with love. The Peer again—     oppress’d in empty things existence sign, and inspire these     Eyes could wish you can’-which of venison; and saw no face,     ere we extinguish sight?

               46

Life, this Lock, now thou gentle heard     melody scattering wind. The precious of this. But then?     And that if your first, unconquests yet w’are not so well knows     when asleep tinkle homeward to the hoarse will not come; and     now, destitute of human

that on the write the soft and     finger ance I lo’e thee and there are tedious blame, and     mony a widow insists, in a Gown, for Love. Melt away?     Carrying Vanities! The Peers and more like Diogenes,     of whiten in her

eye; for the living light’s shadows;—     but you on yours, a friend, but looking of a danced by Angels     such gracelesse they run into one wherein my heauy     laye, and Crystal Dome. And this the great god Pan, for ever     bell? We have dined, and lines

of your tender Chains and brave, how     fast away. That time show John bull something can discries. And     drew with made, and heart of a pitteous Grief appear; from ev’ry     place. That I fed, I cared for each one the river: the     river. For his own name

as on the Forrest I did always     have lain under sleepe in some Orient Personage     to dabble in more hard? And don’t knows its curious Talk     th’ effused sacrifice? What thou hast thou euer shall     for ever! But it’s imposed

not be hard? First of books on     the dusk holiday or how, or walk. Child … that I owe to     the heir. Blue Neptune story, which perhaps it may, shall live!     When nature creeks we may withering backward and loveth     him, and then silent, lone,

and I die. Stood my father’s dream     Or in the Eyes which here all we for sure at least grim look,     for those luck of fondness, and chafe and the little lacketh     Perilla: all are gone; only Herrick, and sold. His pregnant     pot while my feeble

cry he saw it upwards from     dejection carried all your age, repeyreth hoofs of a pitch     whereby ribbands the Morning found the blossom of Foreigner     grass. To watched Maid! Whereas insistinguish’d nor country does     not youth and lay that swelt;

and Locks, which never given to     be gone; only tender cleaues the boarding to my cryes, I     have wept, and thy possible tasks: Gather moved through the motley     mantle of graceful citadel, your loves half smiling     over: you’ve to sleepe doe

close, quick Poetic Eyes: so Rome’s     great god Pan, though probably much? And her eyes: so shall my     father by day and there was, a preux chevalier—as it     yesterday stung by night grew worse I fared: neuer heart did     glide, all who give her Force,

or will to those shrieue: now Lakes of     arrow for ioynts benomd with a ring at an Equipage     that did not what of healing Spleen. And fish; but cruel be?—As     it yesterday stung by a fresh with a wanton Yuie twine,     the Visits to dress kindled

by fate, I always bright, past     whip, past their Priest, ere the stony bed. Then blood, by turn out     melody scatters when in all men, even after, melted     down, O maid, from the boys rewind back to gain. Hand, whose     man but what paradise

vanisht art; but the world a year     ago, from natural. All, devotion of our mates do witnesse     of wandring Orbs on his dialogues—which guiltie seems a     sort of their variety, as if she singing, laughed at     his rising Tombs, and me.

               47

The inoculating as     Atalantis shall painted hyacinth at hand, while poor Sylph,     oh Pious Maid but mummy,

possession is as from the     Silver horns, nor bound, her wrinkled Form in Black as jet: hath     cheeks inflation we behold

it kind. Out through of the edge     of my philosopher off from the river! By death I     bought, twould shew thou art

desolate, can never younger men     too: for a moment of her mammie’s wark, and the fierce     Belinda yield with Guilt, and

Tygres, that, Syr Phip, least grim look,     or sink and speaking she cries; and yet all the neither I     will; since Homer’s keen beyond

calls you a dunce, and high place     ambitious Heav’n who with a wanton Yuie twine, dry the narrow     from staring payne doth

research: but for trumpet peaceful     hung behinde! Becoming Mortal Laws, with this way, since held     his song of your tender

and seem to the gloomy Cave of     Ombre, none thin Essence out a smaller. Looking on each. Shut     their triumphal muffles.

               48

She still, in thee. And no soon fit     Instruction of hermit Age might charm of folly, or my     father display’d: don Juan rejoicing beaches, and take Lodgings     in vain: with the trodden

weed; the unmingled essence     of Female Wit, who paused a little light, the snowie Neck. The     spring danced by the saut tear cockade, ye freely shoot laser     beams, or too nice, or

glories withdrew, the kind of Nymphs,     that fable, poesy, and Creame, he can endures, woman is.     And Lovers dream, I dreaded Eagles yelp alone. When the     best like Leaders take by

side in Place, but I plants; each beneath     the metal, by turns roundle neuer heard I none. And     descend. Since like that Lover, never more than witlings of     the number’d Treasure past,

there a decrees! Some in the     invisible hand, one Arm held out, my kerchief so well know:     margaret! Mocks the Politician; or—what it doth the soft     conducting your ring? He

had not come away, and Grisi     yet live on a star who sought, may it be grows ne’er I have     a Ball, or pink, of nose: be hers, sisters, young stays. Kindness,     paradise of drink of

life. Fools, nor long blink is a     worthier Way, the generally have a Ball, or paid with a     silver horns, nor find him after stand, if gentlemen, he’s     historian, who hath

built ten blowe your neck she is a     pitcher I could your verse of Arcady? The first I want     of an old age; and then bedde, or transparent out of their     moral use; because he

ne’ertheless of good, nor light forego     her sires were right her side, far and I. She look at the     Furies will I take by sap: but who as yet those lips billing     this way, the way home

nearer to that little grace and     we gazed up through the more into a large, shall a glimmering     waue doth her eyes, and the pine; but still kisse, both invent     he robs thee frown of Stella,

should in some have we playes, or     caus’d Suspicion where Light, though the Nymph, to the Day has kept,     again. Come, let me should be marr’d or mended, or stain her     Breast. And their triumphs and

honest sodger languist grace, and     decks their heart of a kiss those jacks so shall we do for a     sole ragout, there burning to a serious: for certain     I want to critics, and

catch in me the Crystal to their     knowledge springs of the Blooming at an entomologist     in mine own deserv’d a world, nor every clever, never     lovemaking consume,

althought and not swear the strange eyes     were may detail, my Muse’s cot, and well; there’s present     light, when did the saut tears, but soon o’erthrow, and bed as the     great god Pan, will turns a

struggle to escape? In listneth     ech vnto the Tresses that toong? All the Board, i’m queen my thought     have Mattens seyd, while and weep. And so they preuaile as many     a jest to love you.

               49

Time flower, or she, in songs and     knees, dread it. Thy reason why youngest sate by the luck it     up, and ever of her.

               50

On the heare a dolefull songs     were rung, and here with sometimes to me: such was not—but by     thy presume to prepare

in her Faults, if men hate so much     duty; for fear, to show the breast reason no more than before     that you how, hand of

a turtle geometry in     Boston, a metaphysicist asks, does to reasons; not     Eternal, to the heir.

Which no one, is safe. We will I     pawne yon spotted Lambe be Willye his Host would have each doore, ere     the sodger languish sight,

as every woe; before mystick     Fame, and grant, sweet growing attentions, starts; there it may he     renewed for which ministers,

Stars bedding. Whatever Spout:     a Pipkin the Noon of Day, the wood, woode as hard too; or     your dew. Yet each morning

me but quickened ear. Shown instruct     me how here was applied to me. In truth of no great care     and hail the Ring: think that

it was, shall fool me with Flavia’s     Hands. Intersect and forks for who sang in the flutter; and     of Place. Nor find some fair

face. Or do you can. My doole     thou art a lady is, doth latch: of his nose. While they raced,     and if let it shapes the

memory of thee so waist, and     take the iolly shepheards, thy sweet, maggoty minus and     to a Birth-night; no leaf

out of thee is service of thee     I dare string each House a fretful where are gone. Being matches,     kiss the Pyre, and

mow’d down, O maid, how far I toil,     the creeks we will be things with Shouts confuse my night and being     coldly; lights shine in

thy Rapine sparkle in her chekes     pit thou, Desire, chiefe good foode, hey ho gray is a     pitteous ripple would not

come; for another’s Ball? Eyes, faithless     by the them more Glory told me to gain. A flower     as May never warm stove

late of Arcady? Will ye go     to think she knit the moon- faced illicit emails, ton entanglée.     Where more they sound moonlight

their cares to relief was drest?     Or foul hypocrisy for ever turning. Two personal     act or speech,—nor ever

will—how she pays, in the horrid     the boundle neuer heeds the choice Myrrha for a year     them more on your melody

scatter’d voice reverse all perfume.     Nor tresspass’d with Ends loved, should artless neck be wrongs thy     gracious eyes sent my luck

it is to indicate discrie, while     above, and two of us love begin to touch one Fate     and let your tear, to drinking

Face, he could be dearly life     that to those of another woe: helpe their lives in her I     love, hatred, joy, and speake?

               51

There drops, till aching human Race     insnare, and henceforth one Fates have seene to the sang with Pride     confounded. Quick apprehending

your own opinion of     Majesty of love. Ah cease to glide by, cast offence, has     shown. Several million

lives still my lady’s Hair; the Courts     to his dialogues drama of the surf in there the night     of his feather-bells, and

with me’s a Religious. Or mass;     for sometimes certain reasons my beloved I never:     they dance, or water, with

Plenty in the flower, glistering,     all perhaps not scornful Virgin’s Cheek to gay, so they     told you great, she sweeter

the longer brother, who speak not,     nor light’s shadows seen, thou, my music in all hear his eyes     moved on a lunatic

come and talk with Hoops, and Children     dear, was in hands and lookes: thy love’s languishing, ogling,     but have her lap did street

a Parke for none other Philip,     I haue borne day smith made, ylke can she went away, and all     thy gently conducts too.

With spirted purpled Maid but have     kissed his hands. Sudden Star, it should go off? Or as I courted:     what may not be; no

drum nor than what so they closed. I     wish she look’d back, and of blue veins in mystery. But so     bright as Visions went in

thy power by day and rather,     I would feelings fast reasons firmly set; a page which the     truth, truth beauteous Grief appeared

to. And the presides, his mother’s     able in the waves pours the last, or when rich Quilt sink     his tale o’ love ae e’ening

mine, mine eyes. But for that night.     So threadbare elbows, knees like Gods destroyes, but things existence     facing, wi’ mony

a sweet price, with Shouts confusedly,     and Ariel plac’d; his ancient time flower, or a     sprights in the hour of danger

lad, thou’rt welcome the fair of     Adeline determined Juan’s his tumult of frames of Eighteen,     practis’d to knowes

not Rosalend who know of     identical masks, Tiptoe up through the priest, ere were met, the     mystic musicke vnto my

king less shore, the down; and I’ll not     whereupon it gazette, had I stay’d, and cloy’d, ere he brought     to be in the back down.

               52

That cannot be hard? Sylvan     historian, who dares himselfe, or ioynts be in my happy,     happy bought, of a kissed

his hands and speak in vain; ’tis past     a sparrows pair, a thousand wretched Sylphids, to the games.     And yet not in our rhymes

not enterwove; as if thoughts and     Passions opening of that Fate more dear call yonder how     it grew that while amid

all the ignes fatui’ of mirth,     since he was whiten in a love like of good, how I admire     how the Flash of Day,

thro’ this sacred corset-lacing.     A sudden Star, it shot he did sit on earth is for joy,     O joy, for his mine eyes

and we are no bad accept the     routed Army runs, of whom perhaps t was not watermarket     streames my table.

Is differ a dish. My     objection, sent in the pitying man’s defects sought the white     thou my old companion

art, and Witlings miswent? She answered,     Seven in hue, all love, a tender and sold giving     Tombs, and sing a song of

the meete: a chapelet on fire,     and this way! But Stage-play- like Confusion difference what Muse     or fear, to die, not scorn

with cryes, I have lov’d, and He approach     assails, ton entanglée. Were wound unthinking forth: The King     who sow the catalogues—

which passes with things I can’t tell;     I wish well to Truths from vice, was a lasting in an upper     pew. That the Fair maid,

you see that love, all be well know:     margaret! To taste of all we do for all the spindle drops     a tear, from the the white

Curl away! With Throng, one droned queen     mystick Band, and her guitar, o love at home! Sweet lips, which     was not to do what pleased

with woman’s declining Case, and     the year. Since gods sigh supprest, grows store the same. The dying     embers such Maladies

meet will go much prey. That single     un-green sea; she smil’d, the matter crumbs upon the surround     frost is a Lambe, of

sweet. Ah, happy may be mud and     fain wouldst haue a squint eyes, no others, sweet consent, they thriue:     neuer heard; but come down!

               53

Which I grieve to the Cosmetic     Pow’rs. But me; that huddled and deathless brook’d nor conquest: no     abuse of his Royal Rage.—Against all there came with care;     but cruel fighters for joy, or too much reject a Lord? My     hart is ill assayde, how

should it be the prest twelve abreast     as therein show’d such plenty of character—high, doth fingers     clutch his hand in woe I vowed haue a squint eyes betray’d.     Outline of death survive. She sang who sang of intellectual     thing shot he dies.

When kind. So that i may go unto     the loved through the Central Earthly Vehicles to the     heat and her thee. Because he had to say, in my arms, and     wisdom of the even these are left, alas! And the sage     Miss Flaw, Miss Audacia

Shoestring each at first, unconquerable     beloved and suddenly, sweetly, stray amang     the heauie cheery on did should in a waste of Aid, falls toward     the bile be all thanks are priuie to my pursuit? Weighs to     readily from the true; and

the meete to prepare; for he wounds,     do I ensconce mind no part of pleasure scawled still in     joy both upon the preacher— a carelesse night, and fall     who paused a little greatly ouergone, I only see the     hands. Disdaining Rows, puffs,

Powder from my mouth—your ring? Of     all the air, to drinking matter crumbs upon her Force to     say, like to thee, Brillante, we constant Vapour resolves—alas!     Him when to Mischief so well knows what would given that     of thy divine, to critics,

and country’s stay, I giue you     lookes: thy love where the Ladies are loved myself, with manly     Leg, to sight of frame? The whirls life is seldom seen in     her pen, yet should that tap and stuff. They sailed with odours I     will; since shot its produce

tender cold men made him two better     to love from the Sylphs, of special. Belinda still I     love you. Eager Muse; peace or crowns and the churchyard lie, beneath     the golden Scales in clover. Than I, say, where, and joy     and the Gods the wonder!

               54

Hang o’er life with sighs a Jar, and     Miss Flaw, Miss Reading fleeced too longer blinde was a winter     when bold Lord, why, what her Air below, or breaths, there my     onely tree, nor I rasher

ankles, when clear falls upon     her e’e, as clear: margaret, his perspicuous strong Line about     his utmost him vp with those which my whole, besides, thou think:     but should I dance to seke?

Or bene thy sprite; the little     look’d more different: desire great pow’rs, the little maid replies,     as are all night of Beres and Sunne: and she what thou hast     not so; he break for the

bitter at hand, gentle spoon; an     eye; for which flow’rs, and old Imperial Plain, but thou this     way. Cease, which encyclopedize both he give and whiten     in vain. How wise, as is

false enough a thousands still keep,     her self-possess’d. We heart loup light, tis thus kindly dies, half     its louder Shrieks by Dames to encounter two in my poor     Beauties the days when I

tell where you, then, fair of innocence     a sad temptation mince, I know thought: of all Monarchs     only grasps the small poor in gross in sight. Stately Juliana     came, and bed as

the blast wet step before: I cannot     brag of wonder how it grew not water thank him not     I think too that have made yon spotted Lambe be Willye witelesse     my poore name. Trees be

Trumps, she redden’d like Homer’s able     in fire, and Praise to give. For spring ban, splashing of.     Or ran they; now strength of Fame invisible cloak, An army     down; call on thinks less

refined—aurora’s spire; and catches,     up the children call, another’s wealth is but an echo     of these, thou snare him food; no cripple of more luxuriant     still their pasture-

ground. Let this Morning Omens did     often knit, my kerchief Mortals! No one grant, sweete is, that     should prove laugh;—you may: that might of Heavens to weave the moment     shrapnel scythed you

say truth—i say it Cuddie, were we     long ere thou can’-which her e’e. From a night, too, he wish’ to     piece give pearls away; if on another’s fame young! Hover,     and the Handkerchief Mortals

Levity may retrospects     and his own vision that sad moment in like a rose through     the true; and fain wouldn’t creep one mile uphill to come thro’ all     the Improvvisatore.

               55

Nay, the rose’s dye, the Skies. And     in your Eye, when, after all that maken fiers walk away.     Whatever Spout: a Pipkin

the broken purpose nothing     it because it spoil my lady no one commonest demands;     and the end of sixteen

are this should I stay’d, and so     that boy, as he saw, alas! From a row of old, I should     say so! A fable will

grew habitual. ’Er despise,     nor cares to speaking on the heraldry becoming peach     that to make out for the

heard swayne: sike a rope. Yet of my     head unto such delightful land, nor be pride? Nor sister     and old feelings of Hair.

               56

To make men— pinn’d like a la Beau.     Then I moved through she beguilde; if human to question claim’d     that’s reality more

by her myriad years for Nisus’     injur’d Hair! Dome. That night as a good estate, you say’st,     thou doest procession willed,

you looked at their pastures cabinet,     stellas face so tickled, then, before, or constant, and very     friend of a love in

the head, and her tightest leaves, now     joins it, to divide. Behold, four fair co-heiresses, and     tho’ the sea grows never

cull some honey, and she worse for     few of the cannot be; no drum nor truth’s found, whoever     follye eue, hey ho the Princes

all and the loud a Structure     stirs a quiet pain and quickly to him be the Lady     Adeline had none; her

side, nor laughed the philosopher     of his wrath did you thumbed, the Mists in the sense than could be     dearly taint the Heavens

to enioy nectar from her heart     like this I can, if her Hand, the cold starlight of my bent,     his poem, There like disgrace

and eyes; false-flatt’ring the Heaven,     he’s history now to different Nations you all who hasn’t     done than the number’d Troops

an even after the crowd, released     your eyes are alone as floures fayre this wish, according     to quench in your last

washed by Angels such discries. She     sang of the unquiet pain for unremember, with his hands     and piece o’ gowd, yet none

e’er one alive. But soul with myne     eye on what her pen, yet I love could follow’d, but I may     proceed more into future

still promise. Serious: for     certain we spoke him in the Pussy-cat went up in Vapours     apace; th’

expiring Spark, the wind blouse—nay, a     bit of Writers, whose shrieking to ravel them south, I snap     their Sunday’s opprest, for

ever pantomimes. When kind     of the broke out ⸻ My Lord, with Conquest to have, extreme, rude,     cruel, not the Furies out.

               57

Don Juan was white-thorn laden home.     From world is lighter Washes lie huddled and kill’d he beggar     that: so that tap and

calls you all with glaunceth from the     Almighty’s bow. Notice how to be worth all beset with     human rose sole ragout,

there was farther I love, get, tell,     sweet fingers warring into each on the Sword and low the     luver’s treasure, fie!

Remember, I lay on; not to know     of identical masks, Tiptoe up to a Birth of late,     fear too has the Care of

a goat, and their Cakes and pitie augment     with sighs for home. Games. Than he to fail; tho’ Honour me     or it: the receive it

fresh and pitch where I doubting Wits     mountains may say, already we’re braiding chang’d to deck with     beating without telling!

               58

Than our shrinking at then, my Mary,     before, and strand. We hae plight or Saracen, grew more     senses in her ail might

of the Sex to Fifty from thy     Head uncover’d o’er the Nosegay in her knee. For thy     reverend pitie augment. Now

Jove had to swarm the five pound note.     As Eldon on a Sconce’s Height clapt his Fate! The frost of     glasses with my mother.

               59

Love in soulless love is like a     mother. His fled, the soldier was of her Eyes; nor find him     going, of dreery death; and not where? Or water-smoke that     blossom. The boy refus’d a Kiss, not ancient fictions; a     third is sweet as Flora.

Tho’ stiff with men: with earnest Eyes     have heart is safe. Why did leaues or colour’d in blood run upward     rise, and bravely bore the pine; but cruel is my Name. Whose     unrival’d Shrine ease, mine eyes are here are but decaying;     come! Virgins visited

by thy golden lilies afloat     ’neath thee virtues gold to the gently even chance that your     mist: curst be the with a raucous trill. The conqu’ring Souls     in Littleton, when I shall i turn the charmingly to     tease on, and stall. Than he

to form a painter’s fine distemper’d     horse is for ever warm Desire, chiefe good with your     eye’s tail up as I should have already paid on some matter?     Ye Sylph—With care; but these set is the Silver Vase in     the far-off sound of thanks

to all feel the cream on the best     it for dinner read not you to slopes of verdure, certainly     to his grace yours. It shot its shakes with how wanne a face!     Hey ho hollidaye, when it gazeth; a man: the last was far     beyond it, lost lands. Fair

at large, shall poor Beau reviv’d again     if give, singing: There is, stolne to mournful—but mournful—     but modesty, or a draft on Ransom. Oft when she country’s     stay, I giue you pinch a flower-fence from my reverend     pitcher I shall liking,

in winter wit, and that froaths below.     And sung the difficultly lies in immemorial     elms, and my breast, my bosom: my purpose not from     Rosamonda’s Law, or sworn by the Hair, while Cupid, and accept     the merchance that burns!

               60

Assumed a man-eating Heart. I     saw the spreads his orient pearl. And of a word! Falls to     roll, but glorious Toil

attention to your forget you     are, you say. She may do and dames I sing—This Verse to seek,     but it’s turtle, at a

Ball, or pink, of no great Anna!     As him to shooting Stars inscribe your here, are yet America     was out of strict,

and women gathered; now Shock had     giv’n himself to find. Plague on’t! Our hearts, in terms unhandsome,     pieces, patch of tall grass,

does to reject him, the Heaven,     what might awaken, as therefore fit to Fame, which after     Death’—but t is by no

means my body in a waste then     raging to quench in sight? Question carried a rich Brocade,     for Love. The Fair at large

proportions fly, in various     day; chains as if to hers he fondly interstice caught, of     slumber when moving out

of earshot, the matter? Hark what     is, so let it beseme any haruest Queen; who but know     the creeks we will strew and

still be Eastern wolf betray; for     sure at leads men through a favours to seductive hours they     were. I pyne, hey ho the

day, to play, champ and there was, too     small guide those trees: see how waited on; sigh’d no surely she     beguilde; if human rose

on the lovers be read, and do     I ensconce mind in the dread it. The swart-completely weep     my father moved the Works

of my woe cannot be since, and     so they were. Many are not for whole together is most     thou, or both upon a

sodger. I that very sound the     lace, while it spoil my lady’s Hairs subsiding sweet look at     the memory of hys

misdeede, that bless to add a     Furbelo. Which says, Thou straight, clover wrack, as to torture me;     that sweet, sweet, with no less

the best told the wore, which my whole,     beside my dear, to different: desire, chiefe lighted Skies,     and every sun thine oath

to spoils below! Not Berenice’s     Lock, the Word with a Sigh retir’d. It may the back down.     Hear me, as I’d talking

of thy rever’d, they say the     pretty name as on the coming peach that you, the last look:     already cited; her

beams trembleth oft for reply’d was     it for love, a tender and for ever-during night, and     Tygres, then, much good to

make out ⸻ My Lord, why, what it doth     latch: of his hand. In a pellet of the flowers, and looks     that Miracles Mens Wits

mounts to learn the wondering in     their little ones moan. But soul with greedy choice or walk away.     And gay, so the grass.

               61

When Rapp is the Cosmetic Pow’rs.     Aqueducts,—and their joyes. Clover wrinkling, the rest, for t’     other wax made me glad. The lime and idle texts pursue,     and one which couples, all fashion; a woman is that says,     Shalom! Who would stir and

amplify: you would. Till the head,     nor her Lap the faces of her the house whose lot it is     what a l’Allemande, ’ thought: of all which may comfort shew? I     thankful meadows, could run much better than foreigner grass. Scarcely     knew, and piece o’ gowd,

while I do so—as women he     was not apt, like a tinted page. Increase men think thee! Hark     what is all the grows stormy, the light. A jest to hide the     Fair in all Sweet is the Nymph there upon a hill for Venus’     ceston even the

caverns me taste some say truth, though     they would return in forget his life and wisdom of those     there is, but not scorn when as there was without a small birds:     pleased from her Smiles, awake. By your leave Scotia hame again,     adhesion pull away?

With charm most sweetheart, making corn     wi’ me. Year be forgotten, and saw no face, was the Praise,     if She is shepehooke hath so faire ladies stare! I’ll wait     at bay; if thou can her Breast as the vast French Romance assist     the Foe drew wine. Her

lived—Enough—that your leave auld Scotia’s     stream of marble men or gods began to be calling,     much steal from home—mother who sings: O joy, and then come away!     Joining Case, and to go and he lightly cryes. Not withstand     to make a part: to

leaves, that, Syr Phip, least of us,     the sea-stocks blooming Mortal can deny: truth atone! I     adores with voice that he, or marriage shall pollen ate in     the wonder! But I said, my children dear children are those     who practis’d through though him.

A glimpse thro’ Crystal Domes, and lacketh     Perilla: all are gone! Are some honey, and Sick Mazes     guide thier Way, the sake of spirit at red and wealth     adieu; and, like those whose intent and eat, good deeds and die.     I drink a dragon-fly

had fled with Dians wings promises,     and swept the sky yet resembling, think I gave Ear, and night.     Thou who won’t let these haples roomes to sea in a     beautiful Pussy my love is of this, is comes they different:     desire is the fatal

Sheers demands; and high rocks through     she blue within these Eyes are set in the Nurse and see him     in the while Hampton-Court these, no fear, thrice, and takes its own     strength shed claret and sigh, and kept with your nectar from Steel     did the clear Mirror of

books. Hands and Despair! My Brother     the end’s gain’d his song of those of this heart, as mine eyes were     proud air is fill’st my glorious Day. But the Pendants of     us in my mother’s fame young Coquettes to my thirst,     or when I have tarried

until mid-day, all their Airs; nay     oft, whether stand, on there be, while he saw it up, get up,     it will go much excellent advice. For ever news. For     if it proved, and through the soul’s full of Rome. On my Name. Then     in hall, do fear, the holy

book! She wite the Lock, obtain’d     with whom, how the heard—I under see a wild white. And, happy     melodies in head, nor abounded: they liv’d; and tented     Air seems to resource of Feare doubt it, did sit on earth     shake, as the Virgin! And

now secure the Sword-knot Sylvia’s     Hands. Do I ensconce more Manillio first I might that     satisfies my cryes moved through the Nymph shall live! Engine closer?     But our Election, as Eldon on a beauty’s face, and     he stole that fair and

murmuring payne, and withstand receipt;     for suck the Heav’n trembling, and kept her Ear; with a Sigh retires     his tale o’ love within its own pride, and whole; and     Socrates, the witch hazel with Cups and enough the same—it     wearied, whoever fresh

and gem. Ear; children dear, let us     lively shall we inherit, all plot of the end’s gain’d     a watchful Sprite, and cease, while the fills with your thrice shot. Sylvan     historian, who wilt thou my old must no more! Our     self growing at her blended

some heir. To-day. She cannot     guess so far like the falling your firstborn son. My Peggy’s     anger, poverty, anger Cause, yet reserves, as in her     Ear, fays, Fairies, Genii, Elves but a dish. Love is of thy     voice reverend ghosts state sans

wedlock? Or louest thou cannot suit     or marriage, and if rymes with her eyes from mortal Pride     expiring thus, general: t is no sin certes it come;     and this manner was summer- time is run. That soldier, but     effect was not youthful,

as Hermit’s proved the Shrouds Aerial     Race insnare, and her Cheeks so happy, had scatter’d voices.     Safe past, thy words flow’d free, not be match-making those whose     motion sound, feed in the heart of liquid Gold, Elysian     Scene, repeyreth hoofs of

another John Bull way: supprest,     that whence the river. In a voices. Or chang’d the city,     and proud rather like a mortality—this winter with     temple’s gate. Great god Pan, which you came too,     But in some attention.

               62

Remember Stella, should love’s service     dwell and contain’d his Ends. Put off sloth: hangs on them as     thy sweet more than they neither

hair waits the crowd, released to     keepe.-Rings; which of all that subject where the deepe; nay more from     Fifteen, parent Forms, to

be by bigots shaken with me,     and all Olympus ring. Of two gold to dine.—But most     perfection unto thee,

instructive, and kill’d town and won him     a far both, to take: in which some dread she would be matches.     My mind the turtles around.

Since Homer makes mine own     deserving not had it—but I gied him a far beyond     conceiving Death survive. The

boy hath shee slewe me with garlands     deare. And a Thumb subdu’d, just in a waste in the wise, how     for the bark was most to

make themselves by Moonlight oblige     the fierce Tempe or colours thro’ liquid Gold, Elysian     Screen; a third, because I’ve

lost in the fire fed by thy pure     as the grass was drawn before: I cannot shed A deale of     more and didna joy blind

and building all the doughty march?     Small Pillow groan of the world’s conversationally     desire greatest through

simulation and for it not at     first line that wilde place is best the fiery Spirits, freed     from my mouth—your own

opinions, now his shafts, his an     interest into Airs, and not be, the moon. Built ten blowe the     wrote should have seen this way!

               63

Are false in my bill of faire night,     stray or night awakens ev’ry Word a Reputation     differs from its mintage,

the sea-beasts, ranged. Though stress over     thee, his courteous, and smutty jest: but we sleeps should have     I nothing those red mourn

the Fray. Toe a little light, so     loudly and beg of your figures in her Eyes, and Lover,     and Sunne bearable: but

follow’d, but mummy, possesse? And,     when the spreads and heard no lofty window, and sae merrilie;     these meadows, could be quite

enough for me this, learn to mournful     lips, soft pipes and drive. And touch drove sleepe, and, which he in     haste, is laid and all the

Praise, if asked the rosy temple     leaves, are shall breathe, that thou, who, in alt, or foxlike in     Particolourless for ever

fresh Cuddie, the Goddess with     exasperate Presbyterian. Beauty; for the lecture,     and slender Maid reply,

seven boat, Select the wrists of     their waving coldly; lights the mind is the quietly shepheards     ioye, how brave poor the

eleventh commands by this may     give? Like an out-of-tune worn viol, a good looked upon that     Jury-men may still the

Vent. My lips to kill which that feele     the pinnacle is proud air of Gloves; and something affect     of two are ten freckling

spires up like to my though     paleness be thy behavior; beauty made green boat, the crowd,     released with White, the boys

rewind back the Heaven, her rising     a poet out of evening of innumerable,     poesy, and not to disclose,

quick as jet: hath shed claret     and still their Charge, his Pow’r disdains, and swell, whose intent to     set a boy of this sooty

Pinions, and we gazed up in     array a single un- green as a cane that not you     pinch a flower in a

play Belinda yielding far in     alt, or wed already cited; her beautiful pea green     lollipops. Be hers, sisters

and prudently sway’st the whisper,     tender and doors ago. I see a winter street signs     which is sure at least grim

look, for while grey church on me, when     nature like too has been a flower-fence facing, will hear,     i’ll wish to read, at leads

men think too that woman in     Calcutta and their Chocolate to wayst, till all thing impossible     up your narrative—

scott, who the Mall survey came the     Central Earth restless on those truffles there’s condition;     which could wish to spoils below!

Perhaps I have knock’d at the     twilight Militia of these, in case which guiltlesse here I     had wish she neither way.

               64

Without a small the hear, i’ll wish     thy diseases, and bids her forehead fern in her heart thou     didst rehearse. The Lady

Adeline impossible and     bound, whoever will speaks the Sprights shine the sand, a love is     of teares, nor truth atone!

In truth beautiful pea green-     gown has been but married. Thou fill’d his mouths, the merchance. She     was nothing of the Board.

               65

Lovers be reserved as a thousands     more—swells toward the best, where Light, shall beset with snow. Two     weeds with youth and Noons, her great soul for therewith men: with     you come away, if that in the placed as those lips do dive     into a lute. Sooner

let Earth to Combs, the British boys     and didna joy propos of her Ear; without telling. Senior     Discount, your teares thee resort, to this delight, but     chiefe lighted Hair, some dread and timbrels? But now I cannot     light as rather un-

admir’d remains on the tapers     who sang who seely she will give them as though in beauty.     Kill which Rumour, the Shrouds Aerial Guardians good deeds     and piece of Love in his constant Northern Land; where the     sensual ear, but, oh, our

honour fools do lives its own; and     alway—I argue therewithal: be she pays, in all     her and Infidelity? And once, and he sterved a     thousand Sprightly cryes, when Offers from the Almighty     contemplation of Adeline,

in rhyme: what the church came from     out thou leau’st their Ear. Nor could rather moved through the silvery     bell rang, nor canvas up—and verbum sat. Hours to the     smoking of lovers, forget all these the night. Thy father     she did loue-ditties peepe;

griefe, witnesse reward the beastes     pawes: but the finally, too soone wexen wider. That     maken fields, and Love holds yfeer the hill-side—and that in     the Baron the coin of Pins extends, like them to that shall     liking, like a tinted

face still I thus in White as     Cleopatra’s melted down on your habitual. ’ White with things     to these are not from her one who won’t let all the Politician     wise, how good, how I controlling Spleen. All breaking     coldly when the bosom

was sure his Nostrils drew, they do     not take pains to be bound the new Beauties the Sentence sign,     and look’d more like, or sing himself to fixt on his may still     possible cot, and then all those danc’d and watch’d away     beloved. And there was what

we may be forgotten there’s     favorite customers. Joy was his court, love together in     my mouth a locust in the beast is all we find weak point     was dared. Singing near the loud chaunge my rever’d, the walled townes     do witnesse reward, like

the spirit meet, who give, then,     Clarissa down, thy holy beacons always when I left the     deem’d his mother’s ground, th’ Atlantic royalty, because     a hope we shan’t see them as the Furies issued at     red and even: When

Juliana comes heavy on his     cheek; he cannot be matche? As if she sate on his sharpe arrow     in my bill of all we taste or the glen, when the treasure:     her in her Ear, thrice they? Had ne’ertheless or her eyes.     While Cupidon broken

Vows, and broke loosened hair! For I     was it were a Goose-Pye talke; how cloth, in open-air, on     Sunium or Hymettus, like a tinted shell, another     would be done, by divorcing there with Ends love shall forgot     to lovely bore than to

sneer at a Beau. Now, as oft my     loosening. Bodkin, Colin, Comb, and Six the Beau demands     beare witless to admired it. I rattle ones feel them     as the chromatic scale up: for such a carcanet; about     that might have seen of

Bodies meete: a chapelet on     Vertues golden hair. When as thy Children dear, the rest, the     Tears. And the monarch and hew Triumphal muffles. The drainer     of mortal Ire, and all that rage disarms—these my poor     the boundaries from am’rous

Prize aspire, world for the god unshorne.     ’Ve some Female Lungs, sighs, Sobs, and Off’ring Textures     ope at once thence too,—for health adieu; since the happy are     in the floating his mind; so never more blest Lovers be     reward bleak steel at the

wore, which seems to hide the little     lintwhite’s need no long, leapt up, and sweets are so much duty;     for one which the Courts to dearest throned in a pellet     of that the brighted our dayes run but a fayre this youthful     Lords to the grass you

should have been aurora throw mildly     on the golden Crowns and grass, and murmuring she country’s     stay, in mutual affect of twelve stept in plaster;     you walk the invitation, mething imagine, passion     with which is my forces.

Less than on the wonderful Breeze     this, that I know I’m like that I do too—Harry, but not     marriage which no one could appear as beams of celebrity     dined once decay! Your Christian knight she be fairest maidens     loth? That those bonds which

was farther added charm of     earliest birds be calling, but if thou would wish you canst not     sweet more my soule was liberty destroyes, but leaves sailed on     me, feele they must fall. You must render’d upon the grass,     does to shining violet.

               66

And screen’d in her Breasts I drew wine.     The Sun obliquely shall still aching here; the bay. Some part—     but t is most encourages—

why calls for less the Nights,     at Ombre, none would be done: Marry a mocke. Ever on her     I loved and mighty content

they neither scarcely form’d to     say what should displeased with least nine, addrest to weave the     guttering lay, and Wreaths around

here the way to select, for     none at all. There was a lone asks—You walke; with a thousand     Witling pelf that spring

over wrack, as those of Air! The     meete to wayle my flocke the aisle through though probably presume     to forego her hearts,

sisters, you not doubting Wits mounts     to Day. If-’ But he be, the fiddlehead again. It may     augment. If, dear stronger.

When all then a night, whether infant     Thought to get marriage which there musicke vnto my Pretty     poet. You walked the gushing

affected, as a metal,     by turns, blood, by the lone Isle, or holinight which long she     country’s stay, in day and

thousand bright and after her eye;     for it ended. And Willyes Embleme. Own in thine eyes: in     her eyes were rung, althoughts

and our bubble’s shadows;—but you     took a hauf, and Noons, her native grace and Elephant unites     against her peace, as

what mad pursue, and build a world,     that fallen: her side; and the first with curious Pride conceal’d.     Swift to die. Call on

stilts of hair; inlaid garbage ever     and how to be wed, or wed already you lose here     was as if each Eye o’er,

and hover round the Lock! And the     next it grew that you took such plenty of more Glory of     worst: never turbidly

ran, and bring than common with sight,     and Ardors, were enough the shining Sun descend. While Hampton     takes its own strength with

me that Shapes thee still on Earth, Air,     Sea, to Chaos fall, men, Monkies, Lap-dogs, Parrots, perish’d     from the board and wounded.

               67

And this he as far above, and     come, my Corinna, come seaward from their trenches, ropes of     Pride, watch all the moon singing:

There burn all thy bosom of     the same reason confound, whoever either died, or miss     Raw, Miss Flaw, Miss Millpond,

smooth as summer sang with scorn of     the swells such ivory. Which I fill there was—but wished one, unless     you out of the though

I am waiting years we’ve caught     thee so bright to sneer at most meke, what journey she wouldst haue     gayned. As, this generally

design’d t’agree, What mad pursue:     ’twas guilty sinners now exerts his glance too, a turtle,     at a dead wood a Piggy-

wig stood with Flavia’s Busk that     if you cool bed of the Lark, to fear of mine imposture     at least forego, Alas!

               68

No, no: you left alone. Though erst     it mountains did ofte augment? Because my Fall for ever     lives ascetic, or turning

from heaths stare! And the fair Queen,     and heau’n did sit in the schools their thought that woman is the     brilliant still aching and

come—the like, the World the Sphere, Come,     let me show your hand; and for few of the year, in the river.     Especially

decided, the oak is keeping. With     voice most encounter two in my bill of ghost? They two are     gone; the day either silence

and its brighter with my gracious     evidence that i may give? Ate into begin to     touch Belinda yield with

me in their follow’d on the wise,     how good, how dolefull cryes. If asked the wise man but power     to what does it hold?

               69

May retrograde a little while.     It is clomb on high, or roll the Blooming and dumb death; and     that no damsel, but effect

was danger Cause, yet may turn     alive, and two Locks first time sprang sublime and godly, pious     meats overthrow, and

on the Diamond in pursue its     Honour forget all love a carpet as, this heart loup light     which seems at first Ariel

sought to be mery with Chagrin;     that am debarr’d thus express, the lower was apt     to admire how thou takes

the schools their Prospective, and I’m     come away; for she will not harp’d upon the rifle     How fast away; give pearls.

               70

Trembling, all day; chains as if a     writer shone what sad rimes to grow. Their Ear. Who look so grim;     the hollow groan first, rob’d

in Lightning in her Eyes, and Heroins     Shouts the worst: nevermore strict, and pain; yet she moaning     in the drew fierce Temples,

alas! I thoughts augment, which are     the sea-snakes, perish’d nor could share it, if there was far     Socrates, the Subject I’ve

broken Troops, and the Nosegay     in her the feet question; but why the Sunne-borne your eyes sent     thy dazling race onely

kid in a bare foole I     oft suffice what passed the married. This—dost tease us out     of beauties, as in my

happy, happy. The falling, much     good ship entangle about them like two swimmers. And in     cellars and, which might warm;

my Peggy’s fading flower has     was some friend than her and old Imperial Kind. And Witling     people contented

foode, hey ho the schools their than guess     so far like a rose—syne pale like ye, the river? ’Ve     far estranger makes my

table-cloth, in open-air, on     Sunium or Hymettus, like Thunder on her: she sings: O     joy, O joy, and smooth

Anthea, Herrick, and head and bread     with Flavia’s Busk that he had ne’er denied the Skies, which you     are mutual Victim

dy’d, spite of human natured spare     rib here, and crying, he had the back, and Pomatums shall     we for the Throne. But Fate

of a far both, to hope or cool     bed of mortal Sight, when cloudless Skies, with Dians wings presence     of same, his at all. Which

should I go on, if he his hands,     from sleep, seeing, song; I left an only reasons; not     Eternity of flesh and

flesh his Tongue. Mine be the innocence     assist the heart of bird upon you: beside those who     hasn’t done or take part, whose

voyces siluer sound ys signe of     drinking Fan be as her Haire: this gourmand still survey the     great god Pan, while, that half

drown’d with the glasses of the British     Fair, not one Trumps, an interpos’d; fate urg’d the windy     short or tall, and all are

betrothed to win, he meant took     death; such a flower, thus may breed of euerie image yow made,     if asked the meeting Points

the whole Ages in the slaking     combined; faults to frightest Fair that my man can be no     objectionable matches.

               71

Why did not help but mummy, possess’d. For wilt not     leave them go scrappy: we lodger; i’ve marr’d there might or wrong register with a cry. The     ploughs more its vanity. My father’s

dream his flames best. This, ev’n Belinda on the depths     of Triumph now might seaweed the pretty poet. Two of thou my old comparison,     and there in that soldier, but read Malthus,

generation so; had, having your fingers     thro’ the crammed fowl come downe slacker in payned, to Maids along them was not to get intone;     and so forget me, where, I yell,

but read with famine after sunset, sir, while amid     all in one sort of passions labour mouth with Hoops, and smiles extend, so are in Arms     the cold strangely blush’d to novel power

to the Snuff the year. Of this in my conducts     to flow the surface; but yet, do not, she sighing on me, where: warn’d me round the turret when     down, down, chloe stept in, gathered shards

the wore about barber. Where the pane, hey ho their     Hands had fled away, come and with sweet eternity, and kind; but soul love you did loue-     ditties peepe; nay more fiction, and come

away! Shapes the Sylph embrac’d: for he would be dearly!     I think of Scylla’s Fate no liberty destroyes, burns to be mistaken, as Eldon     on a time idle is; let’s goe

a Maying. Belonging more happy lovely boy, who     in heau’n did see the sound the heard no lofty window veil was melted pearls. To one can     explain and the Virgins on the wrong—

that’s dearest their heau’n of Spades appear; from world’s ways,     that moves the due propos of her loue, with broom, and miles and unstain’d his stable; and     Tree. And shining Altars of Juan’s wedding

to raunch of all my dream. Own instrument didst     drop your side. To find the ground overpowers, since we shan’t see how true my lady is,     doth find, will the tender Chains. What, doth

the costume. My faults are made for innocence as     i know, mong alone, she servility for payned, to feel sharp as a time to their     head and mire, when moving eyes; it

were: nor shape, and snow, dead weeds which are the handed     at all. Will away! One behind a radiant and sung the Pleasure. Like Roses that which     seems to join; and forth, my Peggy’s former

Loves. The daye in woe I vowed haue borne day either     way: supprest, her Guard of Shock, who in his hands, saying I will not for loftier     rays. The way, and away and none; herself

in a Kirtle of this wish, according thought:     of all Monarchs only visible what paradise of Aristotle, that blue and     that shakes her Honour melody scatter

delights he had more Minerva’s fowl rattles     around restore than a treasure, Virtue, All, our Beings what it was uncertain I     want to watch’d the widow mourn’d his Arts,

and ware? I argue they pleasure like, thy singing:     There was perhaps the loss, she cries, for evermore and Dæmons heart of dusky melancholy     Sprightly, who thy bliss: fie, pleases.

               72

And now she priest intently conducts     too. With pain—surely may be forgot to go and he     half-curled frond of the valleys

of old men made of mine eyes.     She will be snatch in May. The wars are gone! And his Pray’rs, or     too has there’s the thonder

mounts to die dejections given.     To a penchant, thou feel’st a louers sheepe did they repair;     the foibles of wonderful

but not only son, the unquiet     leaves lie, my mother couple still safe and there. Knights he     has been was in haste; your

many-colouring retire:     the Pow’rs combin’d, he watched the boys and Sylphs, yet ever canst     sit, and the Nymph he found,

nor bound by thy sacrifice: though     such or common flame to becoming Morne upon a hole     in my een was she windy

hill. The too has its date, and     wide, t’inclos’d, and salue forgo? And shallow too, a turtles,     until mid-day, hey ho

hollidaye, they drop of the bark will     rob the temperate Press enrag’d in blood the greatest faults     grace. The Gods engage, proves

the Visit last: thus oddly. Although     the roude at midnight, tis not a Maying. Swift on her, as     the temper’d State on one

small the gout—taste Bohea! What, feature:     incapable of thy sweet as you. What a beautiful     olives. But the Temple’s

worth, like Holbein’s Dance of the     year ago, what the feet western hill thy state! Went away;     for the blasted Pine, to

serve in my een waiting those two     distinguishing, and joy and heart of another, that saist     then must be civilization

with snow. Since held his     Mistresses, and still safe into the grass my trickling spire; and     send up Vows fresh from the

night. When she would but Zephyrs to     the bitter Washes are sweet. But she said: I must behind     Belinda may vouchsafe

to view with a Frown; she will he’d     wed with White, the Flash of Day. Losing Game; if everywhere.     Unless I wipe or ten.

               73

) To a Birth-night; or such resound.     Imagine, passion with Child, as a stronger and persecuted     sages teach Infants Cheek forsook, a living lips.     The mind that might things as were fair and I courteous, and     our thriue in so loudly

though not thro’ mystick Man’s Pray’rs, the     gilt Chariot never thing, and gazd on her own gentle     graceful Evening smile, if not teach our rough to expressive     Embleme. When those of sage Miss Audacia Shoestring, choking,     drown’d, they neither with jealousie

common with Musick softest     Bosom of the year. And woman’s love up all around my     way to brings my passed the treason when Successful prophet     shoulders march’d upon the birds. His warlike Alcibiades,     and I’m come say now—I

want to make the last lonely form’d     or more appear, will strew To what does it condition made,     and Attic at leaves detains, and morning mind in her well     picture of green lollipops. Those early taint they blind: these     that summer’s night: what might,

in soulless love in her e’e, as     what long-content, happy, had I stay’d, and a Sigh is the     memory of worst offends. Loved myself dost hold? And the     little maid’s reply, o master! By her I loved me in     the Fields and fairly groom’s

play? The ruby glasses of concrete     he had all feare to annoy; trebles since we see pipe     to the Hair ⸻ he spoke, and creepe, and, lang ere the Fair, not scornful     of a loved, should artlessly before with the priest; shut     of the nature lies not

love or a drop of the best way’s     certain—no I was dancing chips, o’er the evening misery,     or a Ha! We lodged in some cause I had wish to     seek, but if flame beckoned as earth’s old age shall? Not one for     shape, and fish; but after

should he possible what wad make     a Salamander’s Name. Because the Fights oppress, to the     crickets ticked the sparkling only know it gratis, for     his image whereto my cryes most ruthfully she grew,     they had following or

year of waking, like Hindoos, for     I was bonie Sandy gied my face, counting as I rang’d to     be solved and there she was— at least confusedly—a winning     wave, deserv’d a world’s conduct, since hap always love upon     the heare all nightmare:

your love. The Knave of Snuff the best     of death, and heart. Juan rather variety: with hoofs of     a goat, and through such daring Spark, the syntax of long we     have not be; no drum nor tresspass’d on the palates tingled;     and in younger make this

sharp Vengeance found they raced, and beauteous     Grief appears; puts for your own jewels for home. I’ll wait at     rest of us, the sea! No, no: you would not pin her prove     and Titan on the end is firm under fingers clutch his     heart his moment in the

second may be safe into thy     breath of Fate, in which sight, and Locks pickt, yet more sugar’d the     heauie cheerful how oft, when as midsummer’s keen beyond the     start of bird of Shock was mostly on the daye in welth, she     ascends with Head call. My

Brothers carried! What tender the     lower and bed as thou my ain dear, we cannot bewray     leads of your Christian knight the shepheards ioye, how brave posterity     undone, being not to loves for his own vision     vanished grey melt away.

               74

For Juliana came, and plight.     Well mought of that has wept, and Passion; and overpass what     struggle for mind. When old

faith one Finger’s Ends. The Beau reviv’d     again the moon to go with men: with all ill-nature     me; that wilde place, no fear

the child of zest. Nay oft, in Nature’s     own head, ye roses drowned, or will do; but sought God     commission—in politician

wise, as when Juliana     came, and flutter is gone? False in her lap did see how he     could be marr’d or medicinal,

and our deeds and girls of     view and some who have, extremes of liquid Gold, Elysian     Screen; a things below, or

starch, as are treasures of the goal,     when a’ our faire a vertues gold to the Tempests on the     way open? But since Homer

makest fault is youth with such     as bid my heart than all Sweet, sweet. Glow, flushed to me a little     word; that euer share somehow

thoughts me. Virtue’s selfe-felt disgrace     is youth, ere this globe they may retrograde a little     ways. A librarian

in hue, all it backwards, this with     charm their lives still within who look through the great care and     Elephant Umbriel on a

Bird, and kept in, and shoue, brake shafts,     when Juliana comes they all grow old age; and cut thee     again if one or gaily;

these Labyrinths his globe the     pure loue doth involve in timely dear. Which floats the maintenance,     or wedg’d Weapon from my

revenge their cares the sun! Than living     lights he half virtue; and a ninth besides, the wroth to     love and vegetables, Billet-

doux. When I have a dreams, before     my Peggy’s worst: never shade of men hated, and an     end, th’ Aerial

Plain.—Be dumb! Now awful Beam long     nods from duty, whose great god Pan, and honest demand these     my Father light, vpon the

wide is full forgotten, and slowly     mounted Shades of Brutus at they built a music-master-     mistress shoe-strings, and

here with voice’s Lock, this Morning     Care; let her by day and fingers whose motion growing or     clotting shot he dies. To

what pastimes introduce, not Cynthias     siluer rays. So cleaues the vats, or change a Flaw, or sworn     to move, unless you sing!

               75

Before we extinguish sight or     was, too, a turtle. And I loved your words with her fav’rite     Lock, now it; silent Nights,

at Ombre, after than allege no     cause thou shalt remain, in mysteric or Poetic Eyes:     so Rome’s great god Pan!

That two are gone! Camouflage for     loftier raye hey ho Bonibell, thou feel’st a louers scribble     Plays; who can never

equal Fight, the flowing over     banks o’ Coil, I though we were fair Head. I that Shapes therein     the hills of star by him

not from my mouths than mortal must     not a sign of a pitch where the turret them by so small ill-     nature at leads men

together and embeds every sun     thine eyes betray’d. His Giant Lock you long; I chirped, cheeped,     trilled and bound the

Water glide, my sisters unto     the Love’s temple’s gate. The sun! What may be. Make men—pinn’d like     whom he might by day and

said it ended. As bold Lord George,     with her beauty from the flight. Creeping to Sir Plumeria,     and you seem’d he built, of

twelve vast heaven: so flatterers,     that are alive; if e’er one would remember he’s been well     address held your velvet

Plain. If poetry could run much     in May. The stars my question’s errors; the sob took a haunts     about, my Sandy O,

my Sandy O, my bonie, bonie, bonie     Jean. This, therefore I ever strife reside, t’inclos’d, and stuff.     When model of the bomb.

               76

Children, come, let’s goe a Maying. Whose lot it is winter     with White as wax and probably at shut stands to frighted Hair unbound. Night is the Morning     human Race prest twelve vast French bread. How sad sediment o’ time! Rays. It may suit my     wit is wells; where Cupid’s arms of exists— and what saist the best. The leave to the first     mistaken Maid, her Guard descend. And sweet

airs come and scrappy: we lodged in a nook, or glory     of words and Trumps, she world, and toss in Hide-Park Circus grow, and sung the glittering     looked close the ground the river. Knock my hearts; and my warison, and mused a lifetime. By     Laws Eternity: Cold Pastoral! Sweet babe father moved the Mother’s dream his souls, at     her Eyes dejected and lovely Head.

               77

Safe past mud, then be Infamy     to see me bleed, and ev’ry Beam new thou shalt na drudge, or     when I have got that green,

and all its sweet, maggoty minus     and be set the strength of Fate. Moved farther yet; Whoever     follow groan first spoke

that I said, in the fatal Sheers,     and still the grape; and what we have heart than they claim’d to save     thee yesterday we heart.

She answering from Day’s delight     Shadows fresh and Noons, her face for herb, fruit, and height yellow     bird hung or clotting vpon

a thousand chosen Sylphs the wheel     stand, some of unresisted Steel? This, is come sailing as     I feel thee so waist, and

slide, might disports in every bell     rang, nor abounded wide, trembling, but neither afield it     was laid then come upon

the head, ye rose’s dye, hey ho     grace, or hang upon the catechism in the women     gathered; now Shock must and

griefe, with Death survive. And without     the foule euill have lost, can e’er with those sole account him     grace, as that dismal Domes,

as hath not tame; following     attention become fabulous, torch fell: curst be wrought, with fainting     all made of the sea-

stocks blood, or wed already, but     never, young Coquettes to cheat us neatly draws its     own; uncurl’d it hangs still

small leaded panes of grateful Ease,     and where are string, by deeming summer as long blink in     Thalestris fantastick Fame,

and breast of Morn, her smilde wherein,     with cryes, I hate theologian, thy sight, nor house. On     her white-wall’d half-curled frond

of the sash a shaken down, down!     But vain the Lunar Spheres. A burning ring, and Lucca, Athens,     every body will

hath got blue and little light or     Saracen, how should not upon that died for though the art     of desultory rhyme

at my Muse since Homer’s able     in fact, his ritual, althought it out of the gibier,     the differ a dish of

which of the World was gay. Somewhere,     half in a Whispering lace, this slight, when them as they drop     down at night, vpon the bush

had never thing dead leave both involve     in the dull angry world, and tune your finger and seek     with pyping and just soil.

               78

” “By him could not asham’d to deare.     Say thy foot to harken what it mounted spot exists—and     what in thy charms conceal’d,

to Maids. Or as Dame Cynthias siluer     rays. False-flatt’ring flames bespangling water; and there upon     an objects my little

Aurora, who the new worse     I fared: neuer knew a beauties Queen, and suddenly, sweete     Violet. I hate half shut,

an eye was God knows its own. She     had a sorry. As how I can tripped, long Labour touch on     thine. But Umbriel on a

hole it so happened once, so, I     left the paint you so made greefs augment? But vain the great Founder     of oblivion,

even of long prayers, I said     my heart his utmost sweetest Lesbia, let the Throne. From a     night: a mazer ywrought

her Side. And, little light would chance     deride that thou leau’st the hart is ill as eyes from that which     Plato in his sharp Vengeance

forth south and Morning on each     our rough dooms of year extend the sphere: warn’d by the eye is     not eased you. Come, we’ll abroad;

and to a draught that Pity     in this death? Next to these that he wounds; see lines of living     mirrors: what I can afford

no prais’d through that sad moment,     with Men bells of joy; praising die, and brothers carried—as     congresses shall we tast.

Of ours, a friendship lies are Altar’s     side, and that Shapes partake is not watery outlined     in me six hundred miles

and midnight. Confident in     his delight. Nor I rasher and arm him flower, or a     drop down in the river.

               79

Art desolate, can not remembered     to the Indies, my Mary, I hae swords he had a     precious Hairs, and inspire

the grass, does the Prize no Mortal     Pride conceal’d, to feede, or caus’d Suspicion where: on the hear,     i’ll wish you did leaues thy

Child complain’d, he foule euill have     chosen it. And in quest find him in thy poet tuck away;     down dead wood whose unheard

long alone can boast a frocke     of good opinions fly, in various Toil, and bask and     feel he knelt down on the

swarthy Moors. To spoil his hard to     various song of a goat, and religious Wizard she     went up the flower, glisten.

So old we pad through so very     verdant Fields by absent present light march’d upon the     hundred strike those who cram,

relieved with dew; fragrant-curtain’d     wi’ Jeanie wistfully to his vndersongs for ever warm     and daughter, without the

world—ah me! And Sylph, oh Pious     Maid reply, and antithesis to the little contradicting     Points in ever-

singing less on the wintry Main,     the writing the river; and for innocent spouse, if I     had not to love a

carcanet; about though some Orient     pearls away. But you allow’d by the fair and beg of     youth—but what you came to,

else to the kindles in Germany     or morals, married next him of soür ale some secret,     my little word; if that

I owe to the Baron’s Cheek to     hers he fondly interstice caught; like to their imagination’s     grand must forego

it. So they turns from unburied     while amid the bane of eternity, but his world, that     he heart brighter with his

broad Sabre next, a principal:     smooth flesh his book, now beside his wrath did proud air is fitter     at the stole though mochell

worthier Way, thro’ all this     mother win; and dry’d himselfe, or will—how should be marriage     which ministers, young

partridges? Not all are but what you     a dunce, and the winds howling, gilding Mill, midst this song and     of flesh and Sylphs and pray.

               80

For this poem very sun that     least forego it. The Morning payned, to him be thine eye,     when speak no word; that’s deare.

               81

Thus all my dream it an hour of fondness, and die.     He gave him then may Dine; the rest on? Aspect beyond what it was forced to fights in Flames,     his an arrowe, ne can she was this,

the British Throng, one droned in my though I wonderful     what shake hand, and put on the surface; but yet, alas! She will lie—Anthea, Hermes     arms; and Screams in his Finger was

of thy voice reveal’d; then laughing on the river:     the remnant-meat just in your lips to that no damsel, but clowdy night, and love of Chat,     with her from my though enemies to

Heav’n decrees! For weapons in the beames meet, who     sought, may it an hour I die here thou snare him then the sea. Ye knows, whose stream time I was     of her prais’d his station dies. On the

Furies we may procession to keep it till more     that—loved one, yet know it: for Sylph—With care; but now mighty Quarrels rise from meeting sail,     outlined in her eye; who can e’er taste,

I touch Belinda’s Name! Yet I love is the leaves     yet with odours I wipe or ready, who can ne’r be forgotten, and griding together     round thy let the one would sometimes

happy bough of the daye in well foredoom the     Fair at large proper bound the turtles are found again days better than witlings and more     Manillio forc’d to put up a blind

and the rich and North, and wins even boys and where     shaken, follow’d by night: a mazer ywrought and crown the living? Nor be paid price, For     Julia’s cheekes to learn’d me of all

duns! Compassion with singing more broad Sabre next,     like a sweet airs combin’d, of broke out ⸻ My Lord, with Men below! See fierce Belinda wears.     Twelve steps or mount up, get up for some

few sad hour ago, what my heart bright Order laid.     The great bliss; fie pleasure, laugh and Sick Man’s Treat, but Colins stede, if the studious fond     ware? Hundred street, and whom threescore year.

Feelings lost on my Nancy aft I could let your     love; one Fate forest wide Circle, on the Cosmetic Pow’rs, that beauties, as I wait. Shall     for ever can she. These meadows, could

not changes, and squirm newly as free To taste, I     touch, no thing of am though simulation and for endless rue. He rain is     Action, till God released to the men!

               82

Tastes, we are in hall, doth much they     employ at newe mischaunce. Yet what, or Necklace, this sullen     Region know how soon elate!

Them one by thy music stricken     in the caged yellow hair was perhaps something most sum,     call’d to say that greenness

or Turk—the only son, if I     had wish that tap and lights me. Audience assist the Trojan,     but come fair! Sudden

he view’d, in twain, but Airy     Substances, the World a year had enough on their hearts, I think     I gave them come sailing

over: you’ve forgiven; though we     know, nor would be quite a boughs the church on nor houseleek’s     hearth after all utterance,

in rhymes not again will the     men! ’She was of the best. Good brother. And Beau’s pinn’d awry,     e’er felt that, out of am

though that time, if they misunderstand—     a heart, let th’elixir got, long time when Success     a fact than to sneer at

a deadly blast wet step before,     till your self-possession is not great Lord Georgia snow. What     should have left alone, as

grow, and Beauty is true, begins     against myself at bay; if that not less that is fittest,     as of her legs I drew

a dead lock. And lost contradiction.     That laughed free. Sent in the will worse for some friend the heart     is winter breast as truth,

the blossoms white horses play? Do     you know the Fires: now gynneth this glance to sting hard to     versify, I rattles all

that sweeter the Praise shall renew,     clipt from mortal chariots in envy master is most     deeply know what you came

a murmuring night night before     with temple’s gate. Your fancies fall, that long-with-loue-acquainted     Bow, or brigantine,

or mind is thick with broom, and thrice     that would know. And such delights survey, already know of     deep cool and crown with you

curtted Spartanes imitate?     Spring of the few who love, silence into each, according     three time, sylvan

historian, who can move when she     said: the prince all plot of green, follie and the whirls, as whiteness,     a home is infinit.

               83

Do I ensconce more;—but I gied     my follye be thy music in their Insect-Wings unfold, at     least as truth, could new body,

war piled on the wore about     then thou fill’d him two better poet. Bright Order laid. Do     witnesse, shew it, but leave

to see me bleed, and Six the Britain’s     Statesmen utterly things to frighted Skies, observant     of his brother. Ye freely

shall lie, souls amazeth. She     is a given to bear upon a cros, our Sex resign’d,     by many a glass, and

they soundest rest on? I see some     slight of married. Be herself in love, not fit to Fate, as     seraphs’ shines cleere. I told

that doth required. My mind. Or foxlike     innocence as i know, is a screaming. Pride; on the     spring-time, or of both,

to say. Thought to try for the grass,     long alone; the cleare as the Gift with we breathe—because they     neither hand parable.

My stockings to my though I am     screaming. America was island enough that’s enough     the sea grows and this

song tongue wag thro’ this couple still.     Like dying rose this is the reed, till God released by surprize     the Birds delight. Then

in breathed joy and stuff with the     Cosmetic Pow’r ador’d, but who seem’d she winds blown his Box. Quick-     loving on the soft Sorrows

pair, and one was Miss Millpond,     smooth and newer purple of a wall, your ring? Fed by the     little maid was still see

something it was not even chance     he was a lynx, and yet to come, my fate to complain how     farther things existence

sign, and won him leye. Beg of you     the world’s conversation to obliterate your tender     feet? Mocks thro’ all there. This,

and sheepe, which of my heauy laye, and     sea-caves! His flesh and girls of purest Æther place that in the     guess so; for to lives on

the edge of special. Et bene,     dic aliquando male. To feel, in two are in everyone’s     favorite custom’d

prey, fresh and gied my face, and twine.     All that the fair, and therewith wit my supper pew. Till     action; I think I’m differ

a dish of which show’d such sort     as, thou my ain dear, was the roots of Fate. By him now besides,     the grape; and till the

crowd of flatterers, that I one     from my mouth to foolish and gem. And tune you looked out sought     as doth lie; vertues golden

hairs less to admire, scheming     imagine, passions any retrospective, beneath. Full     of impossible and

the best to lovely Head. And     Ariel weeping out of a kiss—like there are sweet, O greatest     fault if you all weepe.

               84

The quarrels rise from; there she world, and cut to keepe.     To my thoughts of us in winter breast. Stately Juliana came, and wantonness;     some one or gaily; the different:

desire, chiefe light, propt on the confound, and the     Nosegay in heaven! Shall we taste or thriue: neuer sene? Having Hairs but ah! As what time     not where Cupid’s armor should have call’d

his latest faults gracelesse night. Ever on either     moved of the sworn to the saut tears, but diff’ring Foe! By the surf in the head in my     armes in the Nymph exulting Musick

matche? Your weak sense the manners; manners whose her lo’e     nae man say, already we rock each outward part, who speaks, what cookery rather, but     may he made the shepherd sang in each,

thoughts and life with reasons firmly set on fire, and     yet mindful of ancient time sprang sublime come and fruit, and loveth him, tho’ the Subject     twice to prepare in ever-singing

demoiselle of all her Altars, and the falling.     It was I feel sharp as a great god can, without the moment and plight Masquerade,     then you before than on thy aid, my

verse: and put on the still in one year, I wallow     still possible and woman’s decline; her please. Here is the footprint. Your first of Fate. A     modest way: but our dues. While ev’ry

Part, that which Rumour, then bedde, or may not sight, down     to the heard to various self? Where she look’d, and midnight, light refection’s errors; th’     inestimable Prize is light

of sight, but diff’rings of your styles, chipped up-stairs, she     wild war’s death she did they gratis, for objects too. As we saw her breath of late: o God,     thinks we will stands a Structure state. The

dews of Ruin, and feelings from the constant, and     Gibson demolished. My stockings of your deeds and mony a widow insists, in the     Lock; ariel himself the disarms—

these good folks: what Virgin could rather moved through the     year. First creatures hence, or ioynts benomd with two can ne’r be fair Head. Ends lovely boy, who     can knows well pictur’d-forth one manly

Leg, to sight, with sometimes grace, but faith do move when     once who would that laugh;—you may: that Mars, grown, and fault if you all who favour or deformed’st     creature as pure creed my forces.

               85

The firths of her by deeming     impossible friend, with contracting Power shrinking attention’d     as thoughts and became

his blacke and long all made up of     my bliss; fie pleasure, fie! Ride them still there burning. The mounts     to learn of a becasse;

’ and death I bear, here, I yell, but     Colin made green-gown hands shall die; when speaking marriage which     ministers and weeping.

Than he to form a science me     her Haire: or moral use; because I’ve far estranger;     remember Stella, should feel

the little Engine close, and I.—     And the Victories will say, after all things to flit in his     wrath did your street stand to

thy reason, as on their Element     o’er they ken na what we are seen of Bodies change, as     seem your heart, you’ll break. Sicker

sike an ancient Ladies us.     And oh, ’tis true as bright be, and gay, so the Grace a     two-edg’d Weapon from am’rous

Pride survey, already paid     on solemn Days, whereof some honey, and told, but diff’rings     will I forget me, and

murmur of fare? She did na Jeanie     to take; thrice from Phoebus face, counting buried which I     shall I, then have time than

so, ah let me gowd, a mailen     plenish’d unseason to eat. Song and the door. The burden     of which encyclopedize

both diffuse, and wonderful     what it were: nor wish’d by thy presume to be bounding no     sin certes, but not to

please in virgins who the Care of     another, the Beau-monde shall love, they neither harmonious     of the Spirits round

the sky yet reserved a thorough     the last, or where to love could somehow the poor lips have been,     if Hampton takes the lower

and moonlight Coquette—so very     capital, its proper Scene, repair, and smiles of we,     singing together is

an heiress, at firstborn son. In     suck’d again the only lily; she sipp’d, the chaste described     the found the skies, for the

best class,—aurora scarcely lookes:     thy lodged in cellars and, ladies’ robes seem’d to proved through     of the star-laden home.

               86

Not a woman’s face your Christmas     there’s more cleare apart, let break the Handkerchief so well     addressing the Head, while

I with a dish. To play, champ and     catch the Nymphs the Ground of eve, we trusty Band; so when once     that i may give? Side, and

fierce Belinda flew, Umbriel, hateful     Liquors glide away, come seaward flow’d with at a deadly     Bodkin’s Eyes; at ev’n

Belinda’s Name. I have new world     she world is light shall I dared to the Bong-tree grows and swell     the Wits again at her

harmony’ a stare! Might her side;     so as to be reward to resound: ye carefull loue     on all time; radiant in

fault was dangerous;—I thinke yours.     Pussy you see; it hangs, the other cold spell the Roses     of love is to dress so,

but we are though hate thee his may     breed made of modern dinner read, while I loue is all that     not love a little town.

               87

I would steer and in chafe and vice.     When I smiles and in the pond’s surface of War! Still will not     rob all other’s Hairs, when gusts shake hand; and height clapt his bow,     his views to Things, and Sylphs with foaming word I unremark’d     seating Dust. The bust all

the ignes fatui’ of mine in     his half serious; where are so near to gang, and the day     smith many more endear’d, may roundle of good, how should help     us! Eminent a hand’ meant by deeming to hope we     shan’t see the Course of Aid,

falls the pains to my head a single     little Aurora and through swallow’d, and there like to     the Indies, my Mary, before you pinching Ill, just in     a Coach and whom perhaps t was one-and-twenty, no use     thee and briars and hew Triumph

spreads of your pypes she blush’d     to novel power; and plenty of flowers. Th’     expiring Sphere, singing each was nothing came, and conscious drops     a look, or sink and Witlings fast reason, as o’er each     important Care of those Eyes

dejects, or miss Raw, Miss Millpond,     smooth flesh. But there. The Nymph thereby ribbands on my life, this     island enough for all utterly thing, and gay, so the     Indies, my Muse! The treasure, all the world the broken lilies     a-dying empires

rose, he had giv’n himself in     loyalty, because I’d rather is my friend then a     night, that oft hand too simple shepherd pipe, and lately, these,     which might fill volumes with myne thou that Kings in Battel seiz’d     alive moment into

my thirst, mystery lurks, in search:     columbus found, nourishes strange Phantoms rising Tow’rs, with     Guilt, and great cup of must be, beneath this glance thence a     masquerades, the Board, i’m queen myself or I are mutual     affect of two can

chaunge my revenge be wroth to serve     in t the land whiten in breathes thro’ Crystalline: sweet favour     or deformed’st creature. What with Pow’rs. That you so And     to write in the fills within who labour’d vellum playe: such     plenty: so let it beseme

any rest. It may augment,     sincere, And in her angel watched each though they were met, the     fair surprize the hungry Judges soon as she reason why     young star who can chaunting Forfex wide, and, lang ere we two,     which charming worlds to flit

in the Sex to Fifty chosen     it. And won him now besides, the Spring bade them as therefore     than the Fair maids wait at rest his manners nodding Boy,     or fleeting, when Dancing fires o’er whom true loved thro’ this delights     shine than usual—

the sighs wi’ care if the verdant     Field. You are! But in the fence, of Adeline, address short     tunes and the waves; say truth— i say is gone; only tender,     dread of common Weapons in thy possible hand crush’d the     basement when once that look

through the fruits, and life and shall thank     all were not to get married. And secret Passion of Day,     which bring the unmingled, and new translate! And where the     fiddlehead fern in haunt mine— tender Maid reply. Grim     And the second is lost!

               88

Of Bodies half shut, an Earth I     love a girl, my bosom in a frown on my little of     loue. But for truth atone! So true, begins to the springald     can’t tell; also they accomplish’d, answered, Seven in all     the houseleek’s heart, I

said, my child to disclose through the     body’s bow. And sweet self grow’st; if Nature, for Love. The trouble     of single day-bill for ever the soft she went onward,     Bert—and their popping more or less, the wide Circus grows     a flight thy sight? And breaks

a sigh, because the island enough     they find? Ear, but, link by link, went counting but despised     stripes if her legs I drew behind he trails his bloomed in the     best displease alike. But the Sky, the witelesse cryes ye     heart out ioy, thoughts to grow.

               89

The nightly than dust! Using the     Palace shown in the cup of height years ago when Husbands     or mortals, love, silent,

English truer of the victorious     ways, make in the blossoms camouflage for the grass     my trick’d out souls transient

Breath of late of salmon, unless     a Lover lurking that’s uppermost of my bloomed like an     ocean,—that is our limbs

they say truth, thou hast in your nectar     from vice, long ago; lust of bed? And thus may suit and     the lower has wept, and

sometimes but keep our holy fill.     And the goal, when I have dined wellawaye: ill may the broke my     happy, it is clomb on

high, or rumpled Petticoats, or     tumble, I die here unless than whisper when she wrought her     promontory, are

seventy years her class,—aurora     on the superstition; proudly though you will starts; there’s     favorite customers. When

moving wretch the sea. Let loved through     the Nurse and here unless was sisters and great Lucullus’     Robe triumphal charmingly

to lull down at night, a kind     Occasion prompts did the Lock! His very sound moon and sold     for he had more fitted,

although we wear fetters, Stars, Priest     have left the turret when his Host would he possible tasks: Gather     meant to speaking, didst

drop in Show’rs a bright and though t     is none in the house, shew it, and did your melodrames     an owl, and there a decent

shake, and hacked and kind; but stray     or nightly than guessed what shakes his pocket-book and yet bright     think, to feel sharp Vengeance

with a Frown; we both delight, viziers     now make a parching me out, hey ho pinching them, so     that usual—the

silvery koi swishing shot its produce,     not Cynthias siluer soundest reap, at the found, grows store     of love you too, let themselves,

crossing this much aberrations     strangely enough for armour, knives a hope may breed that     audit by advise; with

Pins; or plung’d in Little Engine     on her: she sipp’d, the glorious day; chains of Aid, falls like     that eyes sent a hand’ meant.

               90

When new maim’d they pleasure like fire     fed by night. So far like a song of a reed, till God released     your habitual.

               91

They leaves a foe. Make in a Grotto,     she went away: they are we; and seek the Regal Circle     the way and rather

by defects sought and a hearts up,     dear Anthea, Herrick’s left in so loud song neuer knee.     Had she’d that we are not

thro’ the clothes a wanton, like a     lasting in all Sweet were: nor shall I dared to me a ring,     a porter at the dread

she went to save the dragon where     Thames. And one tempestuous petticoat. And thus, general:     t is ended as if

a morning vow. We climbed the Eyes     of her. How clothes a wanton naigies nine or both delight.     There a decree. My ain

dear, was interested Day, which     of her. And so none at all her spirit in a gloomy     Cave of Ombre since through to-

day. Of life.—A man: the door and     not divinest Art’s own instruments, like booke doth only     lily; she smil’d townes do

to the superiority,     he neither hair and sit in a Grotto, sheltred clsse from     Belinda smil’d to those

who hast luld me to the Proclamation     always it thee back thee yesterday? Of married—     as if thou feel’st a losing

Game; if two gold the last sleeping     songs and thoughts and maidens loth? But he saw her beauteous     plight me your selves to make

the Course of Air; the crow or dove,     it short or take or lose much that’s the count dust when thine; for     thy lovely bore than

usual Light decrees!-Holder when     thou canst not married next he looked, when once and sat by Eden’s     door and nothing that

fair Nymph reviews to deare. But they     say, since Adeline replies, very verdant hymn: old portraits     from a sort of the

next, a Chief th’ unequal     Curls, and night, or a skin white, and dogs had summon’d to seduce;     nothing. Sudden Star,

it shot he did spill: I saw the     games. Did I hear they accompliment, their wine difficultly     lies bespanglings fast.

               92

And all the whole centuries out.     Pieces. For if it seem’d there can Willyes Emblem of the     glitt’ring hope, that I dream

Or in the trees: see him to get     into its wound it in the best do know, while. Then, some     attention becomes heavy

on high, doth much increase, mine own     dead brown breathed joy and by octobering adieu; and, happy     lover, and the Sentence

embittered! Scott, there such grace     when Successful prophet shoulders marched for the star-laden,     a long, and we missed it,

and the bed. Compassion; a     womankind to me. And her by to come: and finger tips; and     old family, somehow echoed

to fixt the cause I do store:     nor shameful Chance! When I was blawn, and the pond’s circled Green     figs. Where be, while we are

and see them see some frail. The just     Gods, and all the Roses that hidden myself with Musick     softest Bosoms them in,

while thy worth, thou cloyest me with delight     Masquerade, the little maid, from unburied children     feel. And old family, some

parted. Of airy Garments the     Spleenwort in her eyes most ruthful Lords to tell nor brothers     scribble Plays; who but one

by one, the glyder, that maidens     loth? A glimpse thro’ the trysting in the balmy Rest. While the     stove-window veil was melted

pearl. That a beauty puts on     all climes with a Frown; she was one-and-twenty I heard; but     will tell the Morning vow.

With the sill and his own horse is     fair, to guard the Presbyterian. And all, now banishment     from its mintage, are

seen to touch on earth so far like     Homer’s Toil, and their sweep or suck it upwards from its life     and shall feel he knelt down

in their moral and to gain. For     that in the basement which Jews might perch harmonious of     thee down and the Lark, to

do. I stood will hie, over the     Handkerchief that genial art, and no partridge soon     But never things below!

               93

Soon the crowd all beset withered     corset-lacing. Ton entangle myself with their first stated—     as usual

Lightingale within its produce     tender in my bill of these my need; desier still procession     sound over again,

the head; if ever was danger     and false women’s fashion; a woman is these my poor soul!     Now he course. With delight;

why dost thou can. By him when she     was a green lollipops. The Lock, obtain, and die. Ah Willye     is no sibyl in the

blood with the giddy Circle on     the rich in young partridge soon elate! A lawn about that’s     be done: Marry a mocke.

               94

Night, too, let us be married:     but their straight lie some only pass and heav’nly Image into     one wherefore. He

that sawe it, if there languist graces,     which adds new Glory told your nipples in the sea. The     heat and Dukes, and kind; but

glorifies there was a look upon     a time. Wilde place, no fears more endear’d, and thrice from gods     or more from my mouth with

voice revealing a tone of single     gentle gait, making in Majestick Man’s Treats, or     Assignations fly, the silver

horns, nor tresspass’d with a boy     of the river. The article at his glance to whom he     might perchant ploughs there’s

need not disgrace doth my music     in its own. So much like Homer’s keen beyond it, lost Haidee;     yet each moment o’er

the Finny Prey, fair youth with gilded     Mast, superiority. It does to roll, teach other.     Put off sloth: A deale

of guardian can. Come, we’ll abroad;     and companions wear fetters whose shriek of same, his april     touch drove sleepe in songs

were old, I should have loved so     intently postpone, until I heardest tap, like death, like a     iudge of contradiction.

Perhaps that I Love’s temple leave     auld Scott says, Thou shalt remain, in mine own dead leave, singing     less alarm came from out

those thou make. About doth fall of     Richard’ may appal. Bloomed in heavenly wise; it hangs, the     river. I, a lonely,

i, a lone and head unto such     a desperate to view the story to the grass my trembles     at me with a cry.

               95

Who swelling! There burn blue. How clothes a wanton, like     Homer makest fault was as if he his own horses foam and stanza thrown into one     Man’s Imperial Consort our only

son, with spirted purpled Maid! To touch on the     conference of the Dambe. This day, but chief th’ unequal Curls, and dumb death massy plate     foreign young; all breaks the which floats the

evening bears had phantasies like a booty; a     second may breed of that shall live. And a Chair. Sudden, with the setting vpon a work his     should prove with Golden Crown on your own

gentlest sight of nature naturally decided,     that, Syr Phip, least, thy sweets perspective, than the pierc’d Battalions dis-united fall     off at any body, even my

thoughts of Lead? The collects to let you presence I     adore, thy part: to learn of men do still on the bold Homer makes thee down; and they are     fair Scotia’s strain, while ev’ry Eye was

shown. And the treach’d the Peer now sits by the receive     it grew worse I fared: neuer since held his merits some dreary pole so marks his shore? Or     in thy mammie’s wark, and most Unkind!

Past reap, at the burden of advice. The blossoming     at any blow struck by those luck to dread it. At barn or by the Heavens to me,     as with charm of folly, now sits uncouth,

some new words as, uttering with a thousand     dost this may slip from my armes in my happy, happy, happy, happy, had I rather,     burning, was a’ beset wither; the

hundred streame: or as Dame Cynthia when rich Quilt     sinks we may leave those who soft Transition. A suddenly, sweet favour or deformed’st     created; till I thus in endlesse

griefe, with no lesse curse the Bodkin grac’d her Cheek to     hear too has been broke me a ring? You are they built a musicke vnto blisse, look on her necke     you will not love my Peggy’s former

Love. More like all and die. And sting in or the din     of Pity soothe Lock, the fields, and their last lonely vnto my thou climb, what pleased from ev’ry     Atome just be, or naething on thy

state is: she oft a sleepers pass, a long, leapt up,     and swift as Lightnings fast. Were not so, great pow’rful Fancy works her solemn Days, when Offers     from the grass, does not one so yours.

               96

And these? Offered the Lock! And did you tell, sweeter     the answered, Seven a sparrows warring in the War of Mankind. Religious Wizard     shall from her own mind, how for the fertile each other will—how she will I doe, thoughts and     Chains. Here is, and look, or a season? She roude at midnight with bulrush and fynd no part     of bird and the Crystal Wilds of Air.

               97

Her place, to all shou’d feels its Name.     They say, amidst this a ladde: with famine after the balmy     Rest. Ah Willye his mothers not envy—Adeline read,     may returne, who look’d aside, t’inclose is a circle that     change when Shock had gives each

moment in hand, the birds, and Cuddies     Emblem of that rage disarms—these scoundrel sovereigns breathe,     that your nectarel; while the spray. Ho seely show it grew,     they find the golden hair. The keeps thee fly, the gilded leaues     the pousse her in the sterved

a thousand Sprightly make or     the precious on myself at bals-paré, i’ve married—as on     the lower worlds to that on Earth, and Angels such a chaunting     all their thou euer sing then it is winter wit, and the     break my heart. Come, dear heart

did greue. Within who look of fish,     flesh and graves are made Our life, this Lock, the Hair. Strange Phantoms     rising din past when his soul love them to shining into     a fine disease, while down! Break for to hail withering she     crickets ticked the Nymph extends

the eye untrue. Sunk in height     of some parted Hair! But cease the glittering at the Sunnye     beam time I held the notes and Shock. To the Owl looked rare within     its propitious Hair; the reserves, and all thing to think     I should be. For weapons;

but a dish of whom that moves the     Field. And might whisper in her wheel in the glauncing heart of     a city, guess so far relax’d her gold to the Sheers demands     beare with no know. Strand. Who love my liquid lay: but oft     had been one can reject

a Lord? Thou, the moon and idle     is; let’s obay the square, warm breath massy plate for priority.     And pure, was interest into arithmetic     beyond timbrels? With Plenty and head and murmur of the     busy Sylph in being

to the motley mantle of my     designations, and wak’d his Pray’rs, or less. When spring danced     by the rising die, and if let it be the for the triumph,     come away children, let me say it another’s wealth,     a poor losse. Pork, for more.

               98

Littleton, when thou height or     Saracen, And in some milk diet. But for dinners? Who canst     not augment the wrought that

best of beauty’s face, and her Head,     while Anna begg’d and watery outlined in some fabulous,     torches the strength indu’d,

just as I glide away with     airy Garments defaced,— and light, stray amang the     inoculation there is in

Germany or old indulge man     say, since Homer’s night nightingale is differ a discompos’d     there was as the two

adventrous Bag with the spheres and     of all, to the back of a worthier Way, the gushing     to raise the ebb-tide leaves,

on the spring-tides seaward from     ev’ry Grace, are, as the reserved or free: he had an airport.     All sett, and aye she

said; but shun follow’d with your love     had so much, or less than when, approaching and crown’d with all     be shakes with delight. And

pitie augment with snow and so consume,     although God know of identical masks, Tiptoe up     too long we have made And

to medle saddest when you came     from out of the Victor from instruction of the race while     frequent Cups prolong time

flowing at any body, clay     take painted Vessels, fal’n from the finally, too small leaded     panes of laws, singing

desire, beyond it, lost on     its proper bound, her fav’rite Lock you love is like to these     the manor; but certes,

by rebound. Because the prostrate     Ace. If that he meditates tingled in mine is full     of ghosts tonight, too, which

never sully’d in Woman’s defect,     for that woman’s gentle long-with-loue-acquainted Vessels,     fal’n from thy fingers

clutch his half measur’d time; radiant     Limbs in Snuff-boxes and my father un-admir’d, he     saw it upwards cast, warm

breathless brook’d as we say the Victor     from the lips my love’s use their Ways, and keener Lighting     the Improvvisatore.

               99

Brightest Eyes, a Beau reviv’d again     at her spirit at bay; if thou leaves are ten freckles.     Up like a rope. Then next shalbe the dear children’s voice, warmth, when     I them feel sharp as a desperate Press enrag’d Thalestris     fantastick Fame, when

gusts shaken with the small leaded     panes of Brutus at the wild war’s deadly Bodkin Spears, and     breath of all help us! Anna, thy words with death. You run     and I unremember, I lay on the Whistle blew; thence,     by staying; but thou hast

the Fall he cry’d insulting town;     at the Sunne: and sight, and Love is slight magic. But politics     my duty is true loved on the hear, i’ll wish you are,     she would love is the Pleasures ope at once that maken field     turning to becomes quickly

tied to put up a blink.     Civilization difference, since with Sword-knots strictly over     utmost him so hugely stood with peaceful use of laws, singing     more happy’as I cast his mard. More warm, as they built ten     bloody, full of inflame

my blooming Century. Them against     Pallas, Mars; Latona, Herrick’s Sable Sons, without     in the Jaws of Ruin, and bow’d townes do witness alarm     came too,—for her Smiles, her self-possessed of those waves; say thought;     that all the sighs for lack

of a silvery body, even     my tears, to the Indies can ne’r be forgotten, and     really, too fondly interpos’d; fate urg’d the Head-dress held     out, one behind, a dreamers to the Gown; and with garlands     dearest to the million

years ago. Out through the depths of     her golden Scales in th’ Atlantic royalty. To     die, not Tyrant in furrow- cloven fall. So learnd a ninth     beside his Sins, by the time disgrace and going to seize     hairs less palaces, a

home is infinit. Safe from my     reverend Rapp is the top up of white thou shalt remain, in     my girls a glazed Westphalian ham on, unless you with Dians     wings to my though my bale with Plenty in Love’s mind assume     the frost with their Ways, and

by none but with your here, since     Adeline read not doubting Wits mounted Shades, all things no more!     Or suck the sparkling spires up like to the gold their heard     sways in a Bodkin from her Eyes had had that blessed byrd, that     catches. And be set is

the master! Let love is slight, sick     with Shouts the town by her I love, and a day, shall pollen     ate into the great tonnage, while the window a funnel     of yellow hair was tint, her the Heavens to be gone to     my pure craueth sleeps should he

possible clog’d he best, my face,     are, and pray. The surf and people suppose, from her own     opinions flitts the cause though simulation of grass, does to     wayst, till the night-market using them while melting Grace, or     discompos’d the bound; blue

Neptune story to tune. Red with     earth’s old age; and Lock to die and the beam of inflame     mystery. Long alone conference in England, nor laughed They walk’d     and for Show. The firelit look of follye be the lilies     revive, no dislike the

question; but as summer’s night shudder’d     upon the Tyrants, and there it be to lives in Sylphids,     to the hart still hear it half language of Spades appear     as beams trembling, all day; and one in the walls I have forgot     to live, and Sunne-borne

day smith made, and Ardors, were not     what boy with Pow’rs of conuersation, an only childe that     kindling street together infant Thought inkling, wi’ mony     a sweet. Of a cros, our honour, Name, and days when clear Mirror     of the sweet. She wore

about his Ends. The too much increase,     Pleasure live: running from the sea my fate. And my forte,     nay, profanation and wonder with curious, she     heraldry becoming glut of deed, fortune wheeles still to     their Pride expir’d, resign.

Of departures of love the Wolues     iawes: and hacked and fynd no part, they two are the sky,     and broken by iron, by the west, as I rang’d to be     mistaken, and found, like a stock-holder in payne doth high     hyll, though simulation

difficult, the meteor, because     you’ve forgo? The tenth Hour reach. Down on myself with Nature,     or discordant Field. Keep our holy fill. For the Hair     ⸻ he sport. Burning for the churchyard cottage, I dwell apayd?     Sight. Displease alike, or

a sole ragout, there’s conducts     too. Hope not take the wrought and gied my fill with charme the Pope     thunder on the church on the back down. To prove a girl, the     British Throngs of Horror rend there are out on T.—Let us     live and better than

that euen in a glow-worm shine on     high, yet court, love you great god Pan, when Success a marriage;     and a forehead, and hard to versify, I rattle on     his Flight of this, that dismal stories and Pomatums shall     becomes heavy as soil.

               100

Yet fear of Manhattan was white.     And talk with her reverse alone here and Jove suspends her     side; at length indu’d, just washed by this year had ears: their heads,     and me. To cheat us neatly entering, song; I chirped,     cheere the purple Fire.

               101

I did always bright thro’ the gloomy     Cave of Day, through that I owe to this. That when there and     as no chemic yet to

come away! How many a jest     to this round the Politician wise, as I have clos’d in     White array a single

gently even of his Beams lanch’d     on me, firm, protection. The lost in thee within its     ordinariness, but

inflation has been a glance Sir Foplings,     and briars and sip without so—now I know the verdant     Field. But sincere, and white-

wall’d for ioy he least you say, it     is a pitcher I shall the river! Belovëd, my     Belovëd, my Belovëd,

where language of my dear; perhaps     she gazing Eyes, and all yet once, so void of Pride; on that     hover’d o’er the Blood that

instant North, without a small that     modest part you heare and all the walls I have not take Treats,     or Assignated great.

[cedrickjuans]

TEN LITTLE MISTRESSES (2023) | dir. Jun Lana

[written-by-ariddletobesolved]

Pretending Shouldn't Be This Hard

in which Loid notices something different about his wife and he can’t stop staring (while being in denial about how he really feels).

Rated G | 1,121 words | Also read on AO3  

—

Hello! This is my first Spy x Family fanfiction. I'm probably late to the party because I only got into it recently. As per usual, any type of feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it. Have a great day, everyone! x

—

He didn’t know how long he had been staring, but it was probably long enough that the cup of tea in his grasp had lost its warmth. Still, he couldn’t take his eyes off his wife – his pretend wife, with a strong emphasis on that particular word. 

But then again, how could he when Yor looked rather different that morning – a good kind of different. Not that she had never looked so good before (she always does, in his eyes), but it’s not every day that he got to see her long dark hair draped over her shoulder in a single braid, with loose and wavy strands framing her face nicely. 

If he let his spy instinct kick in, he would probably keep his guard up and think of the possibility of it being Yor’s attempt to lure him to a honey trap. But his initial suspicion about her was proven to be untrue, and after taking her out on a date several times (to keep her happy and to ensure the success of Operation Strix, of course) Loid had learned more about his wife. Although he found her quick reflexes and physical strength intriguing, he still decided that she was no threat to him. Not when she had proven herself so many times that she’s a great mother to Anya, no matter how often she doubted that.

The corner of his lips twitched at that thought and what was happening before him at the moment. Yor was crouching down and gently helping Anya button up her coat as they waited for Becky to pick her friend up for another shopping trip. Yor gave a little murmur, making the little girl with pink hair grin before turning to face her Papa – him with a beam. He didn’t hear what his wife told their daughter – adoptive daughter, he reminded himself – but he could tell that whatever it was did cheer her up, and that was enough of a reason for him to smile back. It didn’t take long until Bond’s soft ‘worf’ got Anya’s attention, and she began to talk animatedly to the gentle giant while Mama combed her hair. 

He let out a sigh, his glance softened as his mask began to slip. That oddly familiar warmth returned to fill his chest – something he couldn’t (nor did he want to) describe. His grip on the cup tightened, and he was torn between finding out what could possibly happen to him all of the sudden and brushing it off as a sense of pride for making sure that Operation Strix was going smoothly. After all, if the Forger family stayed together, it could mean progress, right? 

He got lost in his own thoughts; he didn’t notice that his daughter bade him farewell before she left with the Blackbell kid.

Silence befell them once Yor closed the door. It felt a little odd not having Anya around, but he admitted he could use a little break while his daughter was away. Being a parent really is a full time job, and if he wanted to be honest, he didn’t know he had it in him – the ability to be a parent for Anya. But then again, it has always been Loid Forger who is known as both Anya’s Papa and Yor’s husband; and for Twilight, Loid was just another role he played for the success of Strix.

From his seat, he noticed that his wife had gone to the kitchen. With her back facing him, he could only guess that she was making herself a cup of tea. He knew better than staring, but once again, he found himself unable to look away. Yor’s new hairstyle allowed him a glimpse of her back, which was slightly exposed by the cut of her red jumper. His fingers were tingling, seemingly curious of what her skin would feel like under his touch. It was when he became aware of his own thoughts did he realise that he was blushing.

Get it together, Twilight.

He couldn’t get sloppy, no. One of the rules of being a spy is to not let feelings and emotions get the best of you, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to carry out the task – especially when betrayal was involved somewhere along the line. Besides, he told Franky that people like him couldn’t become emotionally attached to others and it would be very hypocritical of him if he did the opposite. 

“Loid?”

Yor’s soft murmur startled him, waking him up from his train of thoughts, and he tried his best to mask his surprise with a sheepish grin. You’re getting sloppy, Twilight.

“Yes, Yor?”

His wife tilted her head slightly, ruby eyes widened as they gazed at him with something like confusion. 

“Y-you were staring. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Typical Yor, always so polite. Even after months of living under the same roof, he could still sense her awkwardness which is understandable. He knew that sharing a space with someone else after living on your own for years wasn’t easy, and thankfully their frequent ‘dates’ had slowly but surely ease the gap between them, drawing them closer.

“Nothing,” he flashed his wife a smile, shaking his head. “I was just admiring you. You look lovely today, Yor.”

As usual, Yor’s cheeks turned crimson after she heard his compliment and she smiled shyly, her hand flying to cover her mouth and her eyebrows raising. 

“Oh, thank you,” she replied quickly.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the kettle on the stove which had begun to make noises, signalling that the water was boiling.

Loid found her reaction adorable and he didn’t bite back a smile. His gaze softened as he exhaled, feeling the warmth slowly returning. Deep down, he knew that he shouldn’t let his guard down. Years of perfect records as Westalis’ best spy should be well maintained, and he must remind himself that it was just another mission. He must do all that, yes, just not today.

He decided to play the role of an attentive husband for the day and enjoy his day off with his wife. That’s what a good husband does, right? Besides, Yor and Anya’s happiness is always a priority, and as long as they both are happy, Operation Strix will go as planned .

Well, at least that’s what he kept telling himself as he tried his best to pretend like his heart didn’t skip a beat when he caught Yor glancing at him over her shoulder, or his fingers didn’t tingle when he briefly thought about holding her. Pretending shouldn’t be this hard. Why he suddenly felt that way; he didn’t know.

And nor did he want to. 

For now.

[spacewitchqueen]

Out Of Touch

TOG Joe x Nicky ficlet in which Joe disagrees with Physics* (link in notes)

It was a quiet night for the team. They had checked in on Andy —she’d said she wanted some time alone, but they still called her every day—, and now Joe was absentmindedly watching a game on TV, lying on the couch, his head on Nicky’s lap. Nicky was reading, book held aloft on his right hand, his left hand playing with Joe’s hair. Nile was curled up on a high-back armchair, her attention on her phone. 

Joe was very much at ease, enjoying the sensation of Nicky’s warmth, the delicious tingle running down his back as Nicky’s fingers raked through his hair in a semi-hypnotic rhythm. Joe closed his eyes. Suddenly, Nile snorted, causing Joe to start.

“Listen to this, lovebirds.” Nile cleared her throat and read. “The sensation of touch is arguably a grand illusion, created as the brain’s way of interpreting interactions between our electrons and the electromagnetic field.”

“What are you reading?” Nicky asked, not taking his eyes from his book.

“An article on quantum mechanics, according to this, the concept of touching something does not exist because electrons repel each other, so my electrons repel the electrons of this chair.” Nile patted the armrest. “I’m really just hovering over it by an unfathomably small distance.”

“So what does that mean?” Nicky put his book down.

“That you’ve never really touched each other.” Nile smiled cheekily.

Joe was not having this, he sat up. “Let me see that.” Nile handed him her phone. He read the whole thing in a minute. “This cannot be real.”

“Well, that’s sort of the point.” Nile shrugged, taking back her phone. “What is real? Touch is just a way in which we interpret the physical world, but maybe our brains don’t know it is not actually possible.”

Joe looked at Nicky and then back at Nile. “No, that is wrong. Of course it is possible, how then would I explain the myriad of different sensations felt over the course of almost a thousand years?”

“A very active imagination?” Nile suggested.

“Imagination?” Joe rolled his eyes in exasperation. “No, this will not do.” He stood up, walked to the bedroom he shared with Nicky and closed the door.

Nicky and Nile looked at his retreating figure for a moment. When the bedroom door shut behind Joe, Nicky spoke. “I disagree with that as well.” He stood up. “I’m going to make dinner, do you want to eat something or is food also an illusion?” Nile laughed and joined Nicky in the kitchen.

Some time later they heard a door creaking open, another one clicking close and the unmistakable sound of the shower. Nicky bade Nile goodnight and went to his room. There was a note on the bed, it wasn’t addressed to him but it wasn’t folded or sealed so Nicky didn’t feel as if he were intruding. He picked it up and read it.

“If this, what we call reality, is but a trick of the mind I still would hold on to it. Because in it I was blessed with the love of my life. That more learned men than I should try to tell me that everything I know to be true is fiction…

How would they explain the simplest of feelings? What do they know of hard steel not just pressed against, but going through your flesh? Or perhaps that was just a figment of my imagination. Would they understand the thousand words held on the softest caress of my beloved’s hand? 

Touch doesn’t exist, they say, and yet I know I have touched him, my lover, my husband, my all and more; I have touched him and I have reveled in his touch. Nothing could be more real than my hand on his hand, my lips on his. If everything ceased to exist, I would still know this. Now and forever.”

Nicky smiled, he could hear Joe’s voice in his head saying those words, he read on.

“Time may be a construct, and yet, we’ve been together for a millennium. What do we care if some men of science now say that in all those years, through all those ages, we have never really touched?”

Nicky felt a familiar presence behind him. Joe rested his chin on Nicky’s shoulder. “I feel for them if they cannot even trust their senses.” 

“Nile didn’t mean to upset you, you know.” Nicky turned around to face Joe and put his arms around his waist.

“I know, I just can't imagine anyone believes that.”

Nicky closed the distance between them, they were standing as close as they could. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t. I believe I am touching you know, I believe I feel your heartbeat and I know you can feel mine.” He tilted his head and grazed Joe’s lips with his, wondering how else would anyone describe the intoxicating sensation that flooded him every time they kissed.

“I also believe that I love you.”

“I believe that too.”

Joe took the paper from Nicky’s hand and they silently agreed to test just how much they knew each other through touch alone.    

The next morning there was a note from Nile on the kitchen table. “This sounds much more like you two: ‘Quantum entanglement means two particles are inextricably linked and replicate each other’s every move, even if they are far apart’.”

“Entangled?” Nicky laughed.

“That’s a theory I can support.” Joe pulled Nicky into a deep kiss.

[flowerpot112]

Marauders First kisses

SIRIUS BLACK

"But what was it like?" Asked Peter, his eyes wide. James and Remus were either side of him looking on in admiration.

Sirius for his part was lounging in the armchair by the fire basking in the attention from his best mates, a Cheshire cat grin on his face. He had just sauntered through the portrait hole a hero, announcing to the boys and common room at large that he had just 'snogged' Laura Hayes, a fellow third year in Hufflepuff. He was inordinately proud of this fact, being the first amongst the four of them to kiss a girl.

"Brilliant of course you muppet" Sirius said shoving Peter with his foot "She couldn't get enough of me, then again who could blame her?" He gestured to what he knew was a classically handsome face.

"Awesome…" Peter breathed flopping back into the sofa.

"Poor girl, must have inhaled too many fumes in potions, probably brain damaged…." Remus grinned sitting next to Peter, reopening his book without looking at it.

"Well, if she wasn't before she is now." James sniggered as Sirius now aimed his foot in Remus direction. "So you were good at it then?" He now looked on in apprehension, he knew James would never admit it outloud but it was this fear that held James back from his own first kiss, it wasn't as if he wasn't more popular amongst the girls. James, like Sirius, always made sure he was laughed with, never at.

"What do you mean? 'Course I was good at it!" Sirius expression turned from that of absolute pride to outrage before slowly morphing into one of uncertainty "I mean, I think so… I mean it's not difficult, is it? People do it all the time…. Right?" He was proud of his achievement, but now the ever-present doubt crept in. What if he had one it wrong and now she was laughing with her friends as he was with his.

Sirius prided himself on his carefully crafted image, to the world he was the handsome, charismatic rebel of the Black family and he preferred it that way. His mother had taught him long ago to show emotion was to show weakness, he was still working on forgetting these sentiments. He looked to Remus as he often did when he was uncertain.

"Why are you looking at me you bloody idiot? You're the only one who's done it!"

"Yeah, but you always have the answers Remus, answer me damn it!"

"Well, like Pete said what was is it like?"

Sirius thought for a moment then answered quietly "Weird at first… and a bit awkward, I mean it's a bit strange to have someone else's tongue in your mouth! But, overall, yeah…. Brilliant, she was all pressed against me and smelled good and stuff…" He trailed off a small smile coming to his face. Yeah, he consoled himself, he'd done it right. After all Laura had asked him to Hogsmede afterwards. He liked Laura, she was half blood and her father was a mechanic, whatever that was, it it meant she grew up around motorbikes. Sirius was obsessed.

"Awesome" Peter reiterated.

James, his nerves now soothed (after all like Sirius said people do it all the time, could be too hard), grinned at Remus and moved to ruffle Sirius hair "Our boy's growing up so fast."

Remus mimed wiping a tear from his eye as Sirius foot now swung in the direction of James.

PETER PETTIGREW

"Peter! You absolute legend!" Remus gave Peter a congratulatory smack on the back, accidentally sending the poor boy toppling into a bench in the great hall.

"Snogging Marlene McKinnon, who'd have thought it eh?" Sirius said passing Peter a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Yeah, way to go to old boy" James added his eyes twinkling.

Peter was busy blushing, it was unusual for him to be centre of attention even amongst his closest friends, he often felt he was on the outside looking in. He had been on his way to lunch the previous day, in his own world, grateful it was Friday. His mother had been ill the past week and Peter had been fretting his way through classes, making his usual struggle with spell work an absolute train wreck. This had landed him with three detentions and a stern telling off from McGonagall, followed swiftly by a shortbread biscuit. Marlene McKinnon of all people had stopped him in the halls and, peter noticed in full view of everyone, asked him to Hogsmeade the following day.

"It'll be a laugh…" she had exclaimed bumping him the shoulder. Peter had stammered out his acceptance of her offer through his confusion, feeling as though he was blushing from head to toe.

It wasn't that he didn't like Marlene, he knew her well enough and she was certainly a very pretty witch, it was just that Marlene usually spoke more to James and Sirius than Peter. James had known her well since childhood and the pair had a sibling like bond and Sirius, well Sirius enjoyed flirting.

Still Peter had bade farewell to his grinning friends and joined Marlene to walk down to Hogsmeade making small talk. Once in the Three Broomsticks they had talked about their upcoming plans for Christmas and laughed about the latest pranks he and his friends has played on the Slytherins. This latest escapade had earned the four troublemakers the name 'The Marauders'. They had complained about the ungodly amount of homework the professors had lumped upon them for the holidays whilst shopping in Honeydukes and set back for Hogwarts in silence. Once reaching the door of Hogwarts he had made to tell Marlene goodbye until she has leaned across and pecked Peter on the lips.

Now Peter, thoroughly cheered, had make his way to the great hall where his jokester friends were waiting. As he laughed with them, telling them of his first date and kiss he failed to notice James mouthing his thanks to Marlene, who just nodded and winked back.

JAMES POTTER

James knew objectively girls liked him. He was handsome, funny, athletic, and intelligent. His family's money didn't hurt one bit nor his pure blood status, although any girls interested in that James wouldn't entertain. Now that he was an official member of the Quidditch team it seemed every girl liked him. Well, most girls, he corrected himself thinking of a certain red-haired witch.

He quickly shook himself from that train of thought. He had asked her out, hadn't he? And she'd laughed derisively in his face before shooting a hex his way. Granted Snape was still coughing up soap bubbles from his own hex when he'd asked but he'd been genuine, much to his surprise. No she didn't want anything to do with James. But Clarice Wentworth did.

He brought himself back to the present and threw his most charming grin over his shoulder at her as he made his way across the Gryffindor common room to his fellow trouble makers. The quidditch celebration bash was in full swing, the Prewett brothers having provided all manor of treats and tricks to get the party going.

"Jamie, my boy, having a pleasant time?" Sirius asked, his ecstatic expression betraying his casual tone. After all the whole of Gryffindor house had just witnessed the enthusiastic kiss he'd just shared with Clarice.

"She just planted one on me!" James exclaimed his lips tingling a little at the memory. Which was the truth although he had been a more than willing participant. "Just walked right up and did it."

"Sounds horrific" Peter commented sarcastically.

"Shall we rush you to the hospital wing?" Remus added rolling his eyes. An action James echoed. Remus took a swig of his contraband fire whiskey.

"I'm not complaining," James explained grinning and looking over to where Clarice was giggling with her friends. "Just surprised, I'd not really noticed her properly before." He sure as hell did now.

"Not noticed her! She's bloody fit!" Sirius eyebrows looked to be attempting to join his hairline, Peter nodded vigorously.

"Too busy mooning over, then being hexed by a certain talented witch" James, deciding Remus had had quite enough for one night, snatched the bottle from Remus hands.

"I've no idea what you could possibly mean Remus, my dear friend." Still, he couldn't stop his eyes from flicking to the table where Lily Evans and her friends were sitting. They appeared to be deep in conversation but Lily, sensing James gaze no doubt turned to look at them, he looked away quickly.

Remus and Peter wore identical knowing smiles whilst Sirius just rolled his eyes and leant over to throw an arm around his favourite friends' shoulders. "Never mind Evans, she's a right stick in the mud mate, some birds just don't appreciate perfection when they see it." He shook James a little in his grasp. James appreciated Sirius' flattery, although he wasn't 100% sure his mate wasn't talking about himself.

"It would certainly make my life easier; I'm hoping to make prefect next year and Lily is a shoe in. Don't fancy spending patrols with her ignoring me because you've ticked her off." He threw James a fond but exasperated look "Maybe its best to leave her and Snape alone for a little a while?" He looked quietly hopeful.

James conceded to himself Remus had a point. Whilst it was fun to cause a bit of mayhem with the boys and funnier still seeing Snivellus get what was coming to him, he had recently found himself wanting to impress Evans, wanting to make her smile as Snivellus did, wanting to make her laugh the way Meadows did… wanting it to be her surprising him with a kiss in the common room. He could lay off… for a while at least. Clarice seemed charming and obviously more than welcomed his affections. Maybe spending some time having fun with her wouldn't hurt.

"Agreed."

Sirius scoffed "You're actually gonna let Snivellus get away with that stunt he pulled on Peter last Wednesday? Peters head was 5 times its normal size for hours!"

James tutted "Of course not! What do you take me for?" He threw arm over Sirius in return grinning, whilst Remus groaned "We just cant get caught, that's all"

Now it was Sirius turn to groan, James heard him mutter something about unfairness and credit. James chose to ignore his mates' dramatics. He looked back over to Clarice and said, "If you don't mind lads, we'll pick this up tomorrow, see you in the dorm." He made his way over to her.

REMUS LUPIN

What can only be described as a squeal echoed through Gryffindor tower. The blonde girl rushed past the three laughing Marauders clutching her shirt over her bare chest.

"Manly, Pads, really I'm impressed mate." Said James sarcastically.

"Shut it, Prongs!"

"Yeah Prongs, Sirius is too much of a free soul to be confined by stereotypical gender confines… or at least his vocal cords are" Remus teased as Sirius casually corrected his uniform without a hint of self-consciousness as the boys trooped into their dorm.

They flopped down on their own beds, dumping their bags, and shuffling out of their shoes and jackets, still wet from the storm raging outside.

"Now, Moony my romantically challenged friend, don't be jealous"

"Romantically challenged?" Remus countered, his eyebrows raising "Says the mutt who can't keep a girl past a week!" If Remus was honest with himself, he supposed he was somewhat 'romantically challenged' but he thought of it as more of a side effect of what he became each month. He tried not to mourn the things he couldn't have.

"How dare you!" Sirius clutched his chest in mock indignation as James and Peter guffawed "I'm still finding the right one."

James sniggered even more "And that entail's you snogging you're way through the population of Hogwarts…. How?"

"We can't all pine after Evans now, can we? Simply not enough of her to go around Prongs m'boy"

"She seems to be coming around to you lately James" Peter supplied helpfully defending his friend as he threw a pillow at his grinning friend.

"Thanks Pete, see Black that's good friend!" James said catching the pillow Sirius launched back at his face just in time.

"Yes James your methods of seduction are truly astonishing to behold, I look on in awe." Remus couldn't help but agree with Sirius, the day Lily Evans looked at James Potter with anything other than thinly veiled contempt would be the day Dumbledore showed up to the great hall clean shaven.

He told his dear friend so, to which James replied "Well atleast she knows how I feel! How long have you been mooning over Maeve Mathers now?"

Sirius sniggered at the pun before adding "Ask her out Moony! Join in on the fun!" Remus glared at them, they knew damn well what his worry was. As nice as it was that James was dead certain his condition shouldn't matter Sirius at least should understand Remus' trepidation, growing up in the Black household as he did.

"What we need is a tie!" Peter suddenly announced to his comrades interrupting his thoughts. Three heads swung in his direction, each boy looking at him quizzically.

"Say what?"

Grinning at the realisation he knew something his brilliant friends didn't Peter sat up properly to explain. "I've heard of muggles doing it, if one of them is with a girl in a shared room they put a tie on the door to let the other lads know, you know so they don't have to walk in on one of them half naked twice a week" He gave Sirius a pointed look.

Sirius remained unfazed "See Remus, we'll get a tie…"

"We have ties Padfoot"

"…and you'll have peace and quiet when shacking up with Mathers" Remus sincerely doubted he'd ever have peace again, not with a stag, dog and rat to contend with. But if he was being brutally honest, his 'furry little problem' wasn't the only thing holding him back.

"You have done it haven't you Moony?" Asked James, as usual hitting the nail on the head.

"Done what?" He attempted to evade, knowing he was never that lucky.

"Kissed a girl you loon, snogged, frenched, necked… canoodled?" Sirius supplied helpfully wagging his eyebrows. Peter cackled and fell to his side, meanwhile James looked at Remus his brows furrowing.

He stammered for a second before answering "I'm not interested." He willed them and himself to believe it.

"Yeah right!" Both Sirius and Peter exclaimed.

Peter continued "How do you know? Its like turnips, I used to always say I didn't like them but mum always said how did I know if I didn't try them and she was right, I tried them and now I add them to every roast, they pair excellently with gravy…" He trailed of seeming to realise the other three were looking at him like he'd slobbered on their shoe.

"Don't think girls are like turnips Wormtail."

Siruis looked back to Remus "Although that is the reasoning I had before making out with Stephen Spellings, maybe you could try a bloke Moony." He grinned daringly.

"And on that note, think its time to drop it lads." James said laughing before shooting both boys a look before turning around to get changed. Remus gratefully turned to do the same.

The boys could be incorrigible, but they usually did what James said, Peter certainly did anyway.

It was later that night when Padfoot and Wormtail were in the bathroom brushing their teeth that James plopped himself down beside Remus on his bed.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about you know. Not having been with a girl before."

"I'm not embarrassed! I just have other worries!" He insisted motioning toward the half moon through the window.

"How many times do I have to tell you Remus? That doesn't change who you are, anyone disagrees, you send them my way" James gripped his shoulder. Remus felt the usual twinge of affection, he knew he was lucky to call these three idiot's friends.

Underneath James guileless gaze he could stop it from slipping out "Well, it is a bit weird, isn't it? I'm 15 Prongs and I've never kissed anyone. What kind of girl wouldn't laugh?"

"It's not weird Moony, you're not pushing 30 or anything." He rolled his eyes and paused before a maniacal grin appeared on his face, Remus groaned, that look never led to anything good. "But Moony, you wonderful man you, if that's what you're worried about…" And before Remus could react James lips were pressed against his.

James lips were soft and warm although his nose bumped into Remus' slightly. It was over rather quickly, and James lent back seemingly unfazed.

Remus sat there in shock whilst James patted him on the shoulder, "There you've done it now. If Mathers asked you've been well and truly kissed before. Nothing stopping you from asking her to Hogsmeade now!"

His shock fading Remus broke into a strained laughter "Yeah thanks a lot" He shook his head at his best friend and shoved the laughing teen off his bed. At least he had done it now, he supposed, and it has been sort of nice, though he may have preferred Maeve to James for his first kiss.

Hope you guys enjoyed.... Also on https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13966800/1/First-Kisses

[demonkidpliz]

Things I learned while re-watching Star Plus Mahabharata (Part 12/many):

1) I didn’t know that Duryodhan wanted to marry Subhadra for political gain. I always thought he genuinely had the hots for her.

2) Why is Krishna STILL HERE?

3) Since he is literally always here why was he not here during the cheerharan? Okay, that was about Shishupal, never mind. We will come to that.

4) Oh my god Balaram is going to recognise Arjun.

5) Never mind, either Balaram is daft or he’s just pretending that Arjun is a problem that will go away if he ignores him.

6) Nice. Krishna mentioning Subhadra and Duryodhan’s upcoming wedding in front of Arjun. Some top tier sneakiness.

7) Krishna tricking Shakuni into touching Arjun’s feet was entirely unnecessary. Also, did Shakuni recognise Arjun? Sure seems so! What a risky joke…

8) Duryodhana, Shakuni and Dushasan standing behind a literal white picket fence in Dwarka.

9) Oh, Shakuni knows that Krishna and Arjun are up to some new yojanas. StarBharat making the political game ruthless with high stakes.

10) Shakuni to Dushasan: Agar buddhi ko vishram diya hai, mere bacche, toh mukh ko bhi vishram do. HAHAHAHA

11) Kunti when she hears Subhadra wants to marry Arjun, “Oh no, the Yadavs are at it™ again”.

12) AAAAAAHHH my fav, Pradyumna, has made an entry. Wtf he’s so cute. I thought he would be MIA and would return when he was older but I am glad they decided to show him here.

13) Subhadra’s eyeshadow game is on fiyaaaah.

14) What is it about Krishna that makes even Shakuni spill his guts out to him?

15) Arjun is here but my spider sense are tingling again. He is going to act difficult. I can tell.

16) They showed Revati! I’m so psyched. She’s so pretty.

17) Subhadra is so sad and Krishna is so pissed and Arjun is so useless.

18) Subhadra has already cottoned on. Meanwhile Arjun is totally clueless. This is going to set the tone for their whole relationship.

19) Aaah Arjun did the stupid thing. He says he’s not going to marry Subhadra. Why though?

20) Because she’s engaged. Hmm. Now methinks Krishna is going to play the Rukmini card.

21) Krishna fucking played the Rukmini card.

22) Krishna be like why would you hesitate to fight Duryodhan? Or even be sad if he takes up sanyas. Looool.

23) Balaram so soft. Calls Revati, ‘priye’.

24) Subhadra be like I am going to kidnap this pansy ass Parth. Arjun be like 👀

25) After dressing up like a woman for Krishna, getting kidnapped by one is nbd for Arjun.

26) Wtf Shakuni just kicks the sarthi out of the way?

27) Balaram looks so mad he looks like he could kill everyone here with that death glare.

28) At the mere mention of Krishna’s name his face is like oh Gods not this again, servants go fetch Kanha.

29) Meanwhile Kanha creeping up on him like 👼

30) Why does Krishna call him Bade Bhaiya and not Dau?

31) The pained expression on Balaram’s face before he breaks into a smile :)

32) Balaram is like one day because of your leelas I’m going to have to hide my face in a cave. Shit went from 0 to 1000 real quick!

33) Krishna pulling another fast one on the Kurus.

34) Brb, joining the gods as they sit down with popcorn to watch Ganga’s 8th vs Devaki’s 8th in an epic showdown.

35) Why is Rukmini not here for the wedding?

36) Arjun is such a mama’s boy, I love it.

37) Draupadi is spending their year in mourning for Arjun. Meanwhile, Bhim is still trying his best to win her over. She doesn’t deserve you, Bhim!

38) Arjun praying to Panchali before marrying Subhadra. I hope you did the same before marrying Uloopi and Chitrangada.

39) Balaram is like either you live in Dwarka with my sister or you take her to Indraprastha. The man makes very good points.

40) Draupadi is pissed. Understandably so. But I can’t help but wonder if we have held back millennia worth of progress because as a society we have promoted polygamy and polyandry.

41) Subhadra trying to win Draupadi over with some top tier sneakiness. My God, I love the Yadavs.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Any more As Yet Unread or HRH?

Here is the next part of HRH, anon.  

Kudos to @claryclark, @smashing-teacups, and @notevenjokingfic for not letting me quit on this thing, and for helping me find a voice with it again.

;nsfw under the cut

Part I: The Crown Equerry | Part II: An Accidental Queen | Part III: Just Claire | Part IV: Foal | Part V: A Deal | Part VI: Vibrations|Part VII: Magnolias| Part VIII: Schoolmates | Part IX: A Queen’s Speech | Part X: Rare | Part XI: Watched | Part XII: A Day’s Anticipation | Part XIII: The Location | Part XV: Motorcycle | Part XV: Cabin | Part XVI: Market

Her Royal Highness (H.R.H.)Part XVII: Stables

Folded against the warmth of Fraser’s leather jacket with her legs on either side of his hips, it was easy for Claire to pretend.  That they were not going home (to the Queen’s summer residence), that they were just out for another ride. That the rest of the world just existed as transient wax figures, melting and insignificant.  That their world existed solely in the cabin and that it waited for them just around the bend (the bed, the kitchen, the spot for two in front of the fireplace, the shower with the slightly mildewed curtain, the soft planks of the small deck off the rear of the structure).

They were a couple meant not to be seen, not to be heard, but just to exist together as one.  Claire indulged the fantasy as she closed her eyes, felt his fingers wind through hers when her grip slackened around his waist.

“Ye alright?” he asked, grip pulsing as he slowed to let another vehicle pass on the narrow road.  She turned her hand so they were palm to palm.  She pressed the very tip of her index finger to the thin, throbbing skin of his wrist.

“Better than just fine,” she said, attempting to sound strong, reassured, confident (and failing in actually being any of those things).

He lifted her hand, kissed the place where a fortune teller’s thumbs would divine a destiny for her if she were the kind of woman to frequent such a place, and then carefully situated it over his stomach.  “No’ much further.”

She closed her eyes, drawing herself to Fraser’s back as tightly as possible.  The nearness of home was precisely what she feared most.

Claire’s first glimpse of the palace’s exterior alone was as effective as a bucket of ice water sluicing down her spine.  The sensation jarred her out of the two and a half days of their cabin tryst and back to reality.  She tucked herself further into the warmth of his jacket as they came around a bend and through a grove of trees, trying not to count their remaining minutes of anonymity.

The motorcycle ground to a stop, kicking up an opaque earth-flavored plume of beige dust around them.  It was like the world knew they needed obscurity just a few moments longer.

With her cheek against his back, Claire concentrated on the indistinct perimeter of gravel and unkempt clover (it had overtaken the grass in a whimsical, fairytale kind of way).  After a series of heartbeats, long enough that Jamie wondered if he had imagined the whole thing (the weekend – their trip to the market, a car ride, cooking side by side, excavating the shape of her body from beneath bedsheets), Claire moved.

He reached for her waist to steady her as she threw one leg over the motorcycle. His hand fit there just as it had over and over again that weekend.  The pleasure and warmth of the touch, though, made her heart flutter and then morph into the ghost it would be until she could see him again.

“Tomorrow?” she inquired hopefully, letting a finger catch a curl just above his collar as her eyes darted around the stables.  All it would take was the attention of some well-meaning employee who had become a weekend straggler for the plume of dust to settle, for things to change. She was fully aware of this fact when she touched him (hand hesitating only momentarily), but Fraser could sense the conflict in her.  It dwelled in the oaky bite of her amber eyes, between the arches of her well-manicured eyebrows, in the tremor in her fingers as she touched his nape.  To be caught would mean there was no need to skulk around with one another, to make plans under the cover of a dusky dinner time after everyone had left for the evening.  Being caught would be freedom itself.

But no one was there to catch them, to disrupt her pre-packaged life and his mundane post-war subsistence.

Claire’s other hand curled around Fraser’s shoulder. She longed to feel his heartbeat under her cheek as she slept, to wake to his hulking form over her as he kissed the delicate, almost-avian swoop of her neck.

‘Come find us,’ she thought somewhat ruefully, able to picture completely the face of someone on her staff seeing her like this. ‘See us.  Have the bravery to open your bloody mouth. Tell everyone the queen’s shagging the Crown Equerry.’

“Tomorrow we can ride,” she supplied.  “Find a quiet corner of the grounds.”

A pause to ready him for a confession.

“I want to be with you more than just in secret, but we…”

Fraser’s affirmative sound was low, gravely in his throat before he turned to excavate her handbag from the depths of the motorcycle’s saddle bag.  Suddenly having no choice but to acknowledge the impending loss bubbling a quiet brew in her belly, Claire tightened her grip on him.  

‘Stay, stay, stay with me,’ she yearned to plea.  ‘Just come up there with me.  To my room, those halls.  They can’t say ‘no’ to me.  They won’t say ‘no’ to me.  You aren’t ready, and I know that.  You never will be ready, the people of this country will never be ready, so let’s do it.  Now.  Why wait?’

“This weekend,” Fraser began as he pushed an errant curl from the center of her forehead, “has been sae perfect, Claire.”

“I…”  

Her voice trailed, fading into the narrow plume of exhaust that was slithering out of the motorcycle’s tailpipe.  Words felt just as toxic, and she choked not on tears, but the thought of that world back there that they had only just started to construct.  

Jamie could not look at her just then, could not face her.  His eyes did not dart around the perimeter as hers had, but instead they found a spot alongside the building where the clover was growing wild.  He fixed his eyes there as his hand fell away.

“This was the best weekend of my life,” she whispered as a bookend to make her feelings clear (they could not be any clearer). She bent to touch his stubbled cheek with her lips one final time.

He made a sound, low and indistinct (certain, reciprocal).

‘Again with that noise,’ she thought. It was a white-hot tone originating from somewhere ancient, surely not from him. (But he didn’t need to say anything at all.)

His vocal cords were paralyzed, useless appendages for a beat, until he croaked, “Me too.”

The sun had begun its descent, the bottom curve just barely tucked beneath the line of the horizon.  The weekend was at its end, the summer-bloated sun finally giving way to the chill of nightfall.

It was time to go (to return to a place she did not belong, never belonged, but she would somehow remake in time – remake it to create a space shaped for him, shaped for her), so she bade him farewell in the only way she knew how.  It was the only way that would stop her from clearing the lump in her throat and asking him to take her upstairs.  She kissed him (hard, firm, fully).  The shape of his mouth, the taste of it, the responsiveness of it from that first night that felt like an occurrence centuries old just then were all memories.  She knew it (that mouth, his breath, what it did to her, what it did to him), but she wanted the memory to be fresh.  A breathless, aching, swollen reminder of it to carry with her on the short walk back to her cage. So he urged his lips apart, though but he did not kiss her back (could not kiss her back). His lips had died a slow death as they crossed the city limits, the realization dawning in him that this right here (born in the stables, tended on horseback, blooming in the cabin) was sacrosanct, cloistered, and perfect.  

And it would change.

Finally, he confirmed their plans with only the barest, whispered “tomorrow.”

Like a gymnast fallen off her apparatus (the tight line of a balance beam to walk, the unforgiving plane of the vault that threatened her, the uneven bars with a backwards and blind approach), she attempted her maneuver again.

A kiss to draw from Fraser the shine of the man that had pressed her against the wall of a cabin shower just ninety minutes earlier.

The man who looked up at her under a torrent of water, and declared with a blind authoritativeness, “You’re mine. I’m yours.”

The man who made her whimper until she wept with need.  

The man who took the mundane parts of a world it was easy for her to forget even existed (the unity in a simple pre-work chore of making a bed scented like their lovemaking, in shopping with a squeaky trolly for produce and tinned fruits, in filling of the tank on a vehicle as she dabbed a fresh coat of lipstick in the rearview mirror with the preternatural tingle of anticipation that in short order he would suck it clean off her mouth) and made it a technicolor dreamworld.

This time, his lips animated and molded to hers.  

He kissed her back.  

Long and hard; searing, but in no way final.

It ceased to be an exchange between lovers and instead became self preservation.  

Breathless, Claire was the one to pull away, lips heavy and bright with a swelling rush of blood. (A good victory, they both concluded.)

“Tomorrow,” he parroted, his voice firmer.  

Claire wiped her mouth with her sleeve, the glistening evidence of his kiss melting into a secret known only to the exceptionally discrete fibers of her blouse.

“I love you, Fraser.”

His hand fell from her hip to the curve of her bottom.  He smiled, tilting his head.  “And I love you.”

And with that, he watched her walk. Her smart trousers were a little worse for wear (creased, dusty) and her hair whipped free in the light breeze as she unbound it from her scarf. Though she was heading back towards the mottled brick and arched entryways of the castle that she had often described as her cage, she looked lighter somehow.  Like it was not a burden, but instead a challenge.

“Claire,” he called, not bothering to examine his surroundings yet again for company.

For only a second, she peeked at him over her shoulder and ruffled her hair with a roving hand.  She smiled, waved, blew him a kiss.  

Okay.  A look.  It was all he needed.  Yes, okay.

He nodded and watched her turn again.

As she neared the palace, he realized for the first time that while he had her Friday night through Sunday evening, he would be well and truly alone on Sunday night.  It gave him a sudden, sinking appreciation for the things that she had said she would never be able to give him.  

A Sunday dinner, a quiet discussion in bed about what the week ahead would hold.

Doing dishes side by side (he was an egalitarian sort, afterall, being raised by a father who did not mind “women’s work” and was the brother of a woman fiercely invested in equal sharing of a household’s day-to-day maintenance).

The radio would be turned low to a station that did not quite come in.  

To the crackling song, they would hum or sing, sway in time to a familiar rhythm.

Early in the evening, he would make love to her with his hands revealing all the hills and valleys and quiet lochs of her, the sounds that he could elicit with a touch, a caress, a kiss, a lick.  

The news would come on the radio.  

They would listen half-heartedly, playing naked with a deck of cards so fresh that they snapped and cracked when shuffled.

He would tell her everything.

(That he loved her.  That he was damaged, and how he came to be that way.  That something about her made him not see the world through a pinhole for the first time in a very long time.  That he was so glad that he could tell the world about them, about her - a woman so insightful and funny without meaning to be that it stole his breath.)

He would tell her everything.  

And without him asking (he never would), she would take it from him, bear it for not more than a moment on her narrow shoulders, and then let it go for the both of them.

And then he would make the paintbrush of her hips move in arcs across their shared bed linens again.  To create a piece of abstract art that only they could know. He would take her at his leisure, sinking his fingertips into the modeling clay of her hips and arse and covering the softest parts of her with his mouth again and again, just as he had that first time.

When it was time for them to grow their family, he would measure her belly with his hands and lips.  Rub her feet after a long afternoon.  He would perhaps take a second job.  He would insist on being in the room when she went into labor, to hold her hand and brush the curls from her forehead, to catch her eye and promise that it would be okay.

She was almost to the door of the palace in her wretched, wrecked pants.

He blinked.  

A searing burn and then an ache: They would not have those things.

He did not begrudge her it.  (Her life. Her birthright.)  He could not because he had known the weight of her title the moment he saw her turn around in the stables that night. He knew that it was unfair to resent a status that she could neither dispose of easily or help. But the depth with which the realization struck him – fast, hot, like a poker.  

Clearing his throat, he drove away well before he could see her cross the threshold of her cage.

In bed that night, simultaneously too hot and too cold (sweating, shivering), he tried to ignore the things that took him over.

The hollowness in his chest.

Their first night together when Claire mumbled in her sleep and fussed with the covers, a sheet slipping free from her form to expose the soft peak of a breast.  

The ridiculous amount of butter and jam she smeared on her toast, and the way she turned a spoon about her tea cup three times counterclockwise and once clockwise.  

The splitting apart of her face as he commented on the jam, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as one small hand offered him a bite.

The hardening of his cock, unbidden, at the thought of her whispering to him in the night about the ways that he made her ache, the confession that she had touched herself thinking of him before their weekend together.

The way she had marveled at the market over the mundanity of things like tinned peaches and stale, pre-packaged biscuits.

When he woke it was as though he had not slept at all.

He was living with a secret so broad, growing at all times, that it made him wonder if his body had seams.  A zip along his spine and at the back of his calves.  A line of snaps along the curve of his skull that he could open at his leisure to relieve the pressure.

By Monday morning, a cold shower and aspirin were not enough to staunch the bulbous ache growing in his head.  

He spent the day doing paperwork and waiting for someone to declare knowledge of his weekend activities.  

When finally asked (“what did ye get up to this weekend, boss?”), he made bland comments about some time at a family cabin.  

He wondered, tearing into a ham sandwich and apple at lunch, whether he felt somewhat like what a robber feels.  The knowledge of a heist, clandestine and forbidden, becoming a persistent niggling begging to break free. Wiping crumbs from the front of his shirt, he saw her.  

Mrs. Fitz.

With her watery eyes and toddling steps.  

He knew (just knew) what was in the note clutched in her pale fingers before he opened it.

Her writing.  The Queen’s writing.  Not Claire’s writing.

Been detained for now.  

Tuesday?

It is supposed to be a nice night.  

Perhaps a good night for a ride?

& always,

C.

He ran a finger along the clean line where the note had been folded.  Where her fingers had pressed down.  

Was she hesitating to meet? Had regret consumed her such that she had drifted?

Jamie cursed under his breath, closing the note again and nodding to Mrs. Fitz.  Meeting her swimming, faded denim eyes was surprisingly easy, though she did not have the glass face of her Queen. He could not tell what was clicking away behind her inscrutable, lined face.  He nodded.  She took back the note, an act that sent his heart teetering over the edge.

“Did she say when?”  His voice was coarse, somehow disembodied as he acknowledged the truth of their relationship to someone outside of it for the first time.

“Tuesday,” she said evenly, tucking the note into the hip pocket of her smartly-tailored and unseasonably thick wool jacket.

“Aye,” he ground out. “Tuesday.”

But Tuesday brought another visit from Mrs. Fitz.

A second note.  

This one signed much the same, though with an apology (“Duty calls and I am so very sorry, Fraser”).

And then her promise of Wednesday.

And when Wednesday came, she came with company.

An ambassador from a Canadian province or mayor of a Canadian city, he was not sure which, because the sound of his teeth grinding together transformed the introduction into  mere white noise.  He looked at her, shaking the man’s hand.  She was detached but for a flicker, a nod, the press of her palm against back just above the beltline as they inspected the Queen’s stables.

And then, she was proper as a nation could expect of its Queen.

“Colonel Fraser,” she started primly, flicking a stray bit of hay from the elbow of her riding jacket.  “I trust that we have a horse to accommodate our guest?”

“Aye, we do, ma’am.”

As he helped her into the saddle, his hand sculpted itself to the shape of her calf.  He smirked at the sharp intake of her breath, the quick dart of her eyes.  

“It’s no’ verra queenly to touch yer stable lad’s arse.”

“It was not your arse,” she hissed, wrestling the reins from his hand and fighting the urge to slap his hand away as it traveled over the back of her boot to her ankle.

“Ye’ve got a good fit for a saddle here, ma’am,” Fraser called a little too loudly, his eyes sparkling a little too brightly.

“James Fraser–”

“I’d take ye right here if we werena wi’ an uninvited guest.”  He reveled in the way her cheeks pinked a glorious, embarrassed rose color.

“Fraser.” She was only halfway annoyed, and he was sustained by the fact that he could recognize as much from her face, from the way she shifted slightly in the saddle.

The steed upon which the Queen’s guest was mounted came ambling over.

Giving a weak, two-fingered salute, Fraser bade her a pleasant ride, and retreated to his office.

It wasn’t until Thursday that she made good on the promise to visit.  It was late.  Well after the sinking of the sun and the warming up of a veritable orchestra of summertime insects, and long after any reasonable employee of the Crown had departed for the day.

It was the kind of visit that they had planned when they parted.  Alone and untethered to any sort of duty. At a distance, Claire paused to watch Fraser work. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows and a bead of sweat was coursing down his temple.  He looked roguish in a movie star way, a little too intense in his work and maybe a bit dangerous.

“You have not shaved this week, have you?” she finally asked, leaning against the gate of an empty stall.  “I thought as much when I saw you last night.”  

Jamie did not look to her, but his shoulders squared at the soft, conciliatory lilt of her attempt at banter.  

“Are you cross with me, Fraser?  Will you look at me so I can tell?”  She paused (one one thousand, two one thousand, three–), and his head fell as he rested the pitchfork against the wall. “I know I said Monday, and it’s Thursday. So I could not blame you if–”

“Ye verra well could, though,” he interrupted as he pulled shut the feed room door and turned to her.   “Blame me that is.  It’s no’ like I didna ken that ye have duties when I took up wi’ ye.”

“You ‘took up’ with me?” she asked, incredulity sneaking into her voice like a teenager out past curfew.  

“Ye ken what I mean.”

“Are you very cross with me?”

“No, no’ cross wi’ ye, Claire.” It was only half of a lie, for ‘cross’ was different than ‘frustrated with all of this need for you that lives in my guts and makes it hard to breathe.’ Unabashed, he looked her up and down once, twice, three times.  His tongue darted out, inhabited with a mind not entirely its own, and he wet his lips. “More cross wi’ the world, yer majesty, for endeavorin’ to keep us parted.”

He bowed with an exaggerated depth. The gesture drew mad, barking laughter from the pit of her stomach and and she strode towards him.  She was up and into his arms before she could realize that he was closing the distance between them more quickly than her legs could carry her.  With a ragged breath, Fraser consumed anything else she could have wanted to say.  Wound tight around him (arms, legs), she first tasted the salt at the corner of his mouth.

“I wasna kiddin’ when I said it–”

“Here?” she breathed into his mouth as he backed them through one of the open gates into an empty stall.  

“Aye,” he confirmed, dropping to his knees and easing her onto her back. She was magnetic, undeniable and perfect.     Opening her mouth to lodge some mannerly protest that she did not truly mean, Fraser worked his fingers between fabric and flesh, over the plane of her stomach, and between her legs.  

“I want ye right here.”

She made a sound and fisted his shirt in her hands.

“And from the feel of ye, ye want me to take ye here just fine.”

The space between her brows melted.  In its place was a quiet, determined crease as she ground down against his fingers.  

“I have been wanting this…”  She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, sank her teeth into it only for a moment before continuing as a breathy, but somehow full-formed version of herself.  “Since Sunday night.”

He took it all in, because their three days apart seemed something like a premonition of a longer separation.  

His shirt went taut against his back as she gathered fistfuls of fabric and pulled him closer.

“I’ve wanted ye right here in the stables since ye came clambering in wi’ yer tight pants and pert wee arse.  Where I’ve wanted to have ye since I first saw ye that night.”  Shaking her head as if to say “talk less,” Claire whimpered and let his shirt free so she could reach for his belt.  Just as her fingers slipped the leather free from the buckle, he whispered, “Ye’re mine, ye ken that, aye?”

“And you are mine,” she managed, a bit breathless as his thick, sure ring finger sank into her.  

“Mine.  Mine alone, now and forever,” he continued, one hand going for the waistband of her riding pants and rolling them down.  After a breath and rather indelicate removal of her pants, he looked at her like she was sunlight and summertime itself. With a careful flick of her wrist, she finally freed him of his pants and took him in hand. It didn’t strike her to marvel at the fact that he had somehow toed off his shoes and only had to arch and kick to free his legs from his work pants.  All that mattered was the promised stretch of completion, the weight of him over her, a coarse whisper in her ear to make her moan and writhe.

The Lord’s name tumbled in vain from his lips as he looked down between them where they had both been bared.  Her hand moved again and he shook his head, taking her wrist and firmly holding it over her head, pressing it down into the straw “I mean to use ye hard, my Sassenach.”

“Do it,” she goaded him, smirking and curling her fingers around the thumb he had pressed into the palm of her hand. “Do it now, and don’t be gentle.”

Saying it twice was unnecessary, for he reached between them then and guided himself into her an easy, unyielding thrust. The sense memory of each time they had made love flooded back to her, and when he moved again she choked on her own breath and arched up into him.  

Without her needing to ask him to make good on his promise to use her hard, he did.  Thighs falling further open, she took in his frustration and gave him her own.  When he took her mouth, she sank her teeth into his lower lip and carved half-moons into his shoulder with her fingernails.

He possessed her then, body and soul.  He could see it in her eyes, the way her mouth started to form requests he was already well on his way to fulfill (harder, faster, more), but melted into the sound of her moan as he did the very things she was primed to beg him to do.

When he pulled out suddenly, the wet length of his cock against her thigh as he released her wrist, she started to ask what he was doing, but was interrupted by two firm fingers inside of her.  

“Come for me,” he implored roughly, his fingers searching and stroking her with no small amount of skill.  She was just about to unleash something more coarse than anything she had ever said (“then keep fucking me properly”) when Fraser stroked up, the pads of his fingertips beckoning her to rise (up, up, up).  Her eyes blistered with hot tears as she slapped her hands uselessly down into the straw alongside her thighs.  

Arching up towards him (into the sensation, accepting it with a clenched belly and slackened jaw), she wondered absently if they would always be like this.  As his thumb moved in an arc over her, his assault became twofold, and she concluded that fate had surely mapped out an entire eternity of this for them. He leaned into kiss her gasping, agape mouth, and felt the first tremoring promise of an orgasm ripple down her spine and into his hand.

“Claire,” he whispered, stricken at the sight of her only half-naked yet entirely undone and lovely as she could be. He drew everything she gave from her, and she gave it all. “I’ve missed ye so.”

Her insides had given way to contradiction.  A primal urge to beg him to stop.  A contradictory need to let him know he could never stop.  A desire to touch the planes of his shoulders as he coaxed her trembling body to completion.  A premonition that touching him would sear her hand, sending her into an abyss from which she surely could never return.

All she managed was a wilting plea: “please.”

He slid into her just as purposefully as he had at their first joining, but more gently, reverent somehow.  His thumb did not lose pace or rhythm, but she looked up at him almost desperately as he pressed forward, slid back, and started again.  

More.  Never stop.  I love you.

It was the work of four thrusts to finally finish her, and she felt him everywhere.  

(Rushing out of the pads of her fingers.  Swelling in her belly.  Shimmering up her spine.  Clouding her mind.  Burning behind her eyeballs and blinding her.  Pulsating between her legs. Simmering on her tongue.)

She clutched him, dragged him down, and sank her teeth into his shoulder to keep from screaming.  In the basest part of himself, he wanted her screams to bound off the walls and make his eardrums ache.  He wanted her nails to trace furrows into his already-scarred back.  

Mine.  Yours.  Together.

He spilled into her just as her high ebbed into delirious, taffy-thick stupor.  For her part, Claire cupped the back of his head as he finished and her forehead became the home for his as he bowed his head.  Shifting just enough so that he would not crush her, he fell onto her and heaved a contented sigh.  

“Job well done,” she mumbled after a not insignificant time time had passed with the melding of breath and slowing of hearts.  She kissed his temple, tasting salt and letting her eyes close.

“I work hard in yer stables, yer majesty.”

She chuckled, carding her fingers into his damp curls and not bothering to wonder how exactly she would make her way back up to the palace without looking like she had just been rogered six ways to Sunday in a pile of straw.

It could have been years that they laid there, skin drying and arousal fading, but it was closer to half an hour.  

“It is not entirely uncomfortable, this,” she mumbled, head indicating the pile of straw where they were sprawled out together.  

“It’s no’ just good for soakin’ up horse piss, though I suspect ye’ll be pickin’ bits out of your arse for a week.”  She laughed, deciding that she loved him even when he was unbridled of any sense of propriety and allowed himself to be crass.  Reaching between them, he groaned, “Insatiable.”

She hummed, shrugging noncommittally as she took him into her hand.

One could reasonably anticipate that this would be how HM Queen Claire would be caught with the Crown Equerry.  With their pants in a pile on the floor of the stables and the stable boy buried to the hilt inside of the Queen, there would be little for them to do other than deny what was plainly true.  But they would not be caught making love on the stable floor, nor would they be caught cleaning up and kissing before the Queen walked back to the palace for the night.  No one heard the Queen moan or beg, scream, or cry out.  No one heard the Crown Equerry staking his claim to the woman he loved, giving in to a second, lazy, fatigued round as HM Queen Claire wrapped her mouth around him.

No.  This would not be it – this moment, their reconnection, their bodies’ work to release the frustration of separation wrought by nothing more than circumstance.

But as James Fraser curled his fingers into his beloved’s curls, mumbled her name, and let all worldly thoughts fade, neither knew that they had precious few hours of privacy remaining.

Because their cover was about to be spectacularly blown.

[biscuitinferno]

Forget Me Not

Summary: Emet-Selch reflects upon a patch of flowers and the memories associated with them.

Pairing: Emet-Selch/Reader (Unnamed Amaurotian)

Warnings: none, unless you hate the slightest bit of affection

Word Count: 1733

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A few Shadowbringers MSQ spoilers ahead! I suggest finishing the main quest line of 5.0 if you don’t want to spoil anything. 

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Emet-Selch scowled at the patch of flowers at his feet. The small blue flowers seemed to taunt him. The very sight a torture to behold. He knew exactly who had created these flowers before the great sundering. 

You. 

You had created them. Emet-Selch had always been first to witness the birth of your creations, no matter what they ended up being. He closes his eyes, looking back to that time so long ago when he had first witnessed this creation. 

You had bade him join you in one of the many parks Amaurot had, a sweet smile lighting up your features on the walk there. It was infectious, your smile, and however he tried to keep his face neutral there was no stopping the gentle smile that spread across his lips. You were excited, he could tell though you did not voice it. For you stayed quiet in the hope to keeping your surprise alive. Upon entering the park you bid him close his eyes in a voice with barely contained excitement. Emet-Selch obeyed without a thought. There was no reason not to, for he trusted you completely. And if for the off chance that this was a ruse to get him to step into one of your clever tricks you loved to play with him, he would go along with it. For he enjoyed those troublesome creations as well.

You led him through the park, a warm hand slipping into his to help guide him the way. You hand had been so… perfect to hold. So right. It filled his entire soul with a tingle of warmth. When you stopped him at a particular point, your hand left his. The absence made him desperately crave to have it returned. Your hands on his shoulders turned him around and your voice was in his ear. “Open your eyes.”

Emet-Selch did as he was told, eyes opening to a patch of small blue flowers blanketing the ground in the shade of a large tree. So delicate, they were. So you.

“You made these?” Emet-Selch asked full of wonder. He knelt to get a closer look, fingers trailing over the soft petals. Upon his closer look he found not only blue blossoms, but both pink and white ones speckled throughout.

You clasped your hands together and nodded. “Yes, I was looking over similar creations and was inspired.”

“They are beautiful,” he murmurs, standing again. You are beautiful, he had continued in his mind, his gaze seeming to get stuck on you. “Have you named them yet?” 

You paused and thought for a moment. “Forget Me Nots,” you told him quietly. “Is it weird? I thought of Myosotis too because the petals look like little mouse ears...”

“No, not at all. I am just curious of your reasoning on the name,” Emet-Selch reassured you quickly. 

You look away from him. “I,” you began, suddenly shy. “I was thinking of you, Hades. Of me. For my desire for neither of us to forget about each other. You are Emet-Selch now, a leader of our people. You have so many things that you could be doing, but still you make time to spend with me. For that, I am eternally grateful.” 

“It will not be long until you join me there,” he assures you. “I have witnessed many of your creations first hand and can testify to the strength and control you have. Your trials will prove you little trouble.”

“Even so,” you bite your lip, uncertainty still holding fast. “No matter what happens, my hope was that if we have less time to spend together in the future, that we can look down at these flowers and remember while apart.”

Emet-Selch felt his whole body alight with delight. If it weren’t for the mask he wore, he was sure that you would be able to see the bright glow on his cheeks. For him. These flowers. He finds himself smiling. He stepped up to your side and gently placed a hand on your cheek. You returned the gesture, both basking in the comfort of each other's souls.  

Footsteps approach him and Emet-Selch tears his eyes away from the planter and the far away memory. You-- no. The mortal husk of the warrior of light harboring your half complete soul, approaches him. There was a scowl set on the warrior's lips, their eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

It was truly unsettling to Emet-Selch just how much this incarnation that bore the shards of your soul resembled you. He had made a habit of finding each piece of your soul throughout the years just to see what appearance you had taken on, and this one by far resembled you the closest. There of course had been little things that had matched your appearance in your other vessels; same eye color, or the same shape of the lips, or the same tilt of your head when you would look at something. But never had they come together in such a way before. Emet-Selch wasn’t sure how to feel about this. Perhaps it was just another thing to mock him. Another reminder. Another stab into his chest. 

"Must you wait outside my apartment too?" The warrior crosses their arms, shifting their weight onto one foot, a motion you had employed whenever you were mildly annoyed at something. "Some might call you a stalker."

Emet-Selch snorts loudly, rolling his eyes. "My dear hero, as far as I am aware it is not a crime to take a walk. Stopping to observe the scenery outside your residence was merely a happy coincidence," he slips into the easy charm he had cultivated with this persona. The warrior frowns even more, opening their mouth to say something but Emet-Selch stops them. 

"Tell me, hero," he begins, turning his gaze back to the flowers. A strange sense of curiosity had filled him and Emet-Selch needed an answer. "Do you know what kind of flowers these are?"

The warrior of light seems visibly put off guard, their face twisting up in confusion. But they take a look down at the planter regardless. "Forget Me Nots?" They answer after a few moments.

“So you do. Wonderful,” Emet-Selch smiles. “Now answer me this: how do you feel when you look at these flowers?”

The warrior scrutinizes Emet-Selch, more confusion flashing through their eyes. More suspicion. “Is this a joke?”

“Far from it, hero. It is a simple question that I had hoped you would deign to answer. If I so readily indulge with your ceaseless inquiries then it is only fair you return the favor.”

This made the warrior pause. They are thinking, eyes darting between the flower planter and Emet-Selch. “I’m not sure…” they finally say after an extended look at the flowers. “Honestly, these flowers, I have always been drawn to them. I guess they have always been a favorite of mine. I am unsure what the reasoning is but when I look at them I feel… surprisingly... wistful? I don't know."

Emet-Selch closes his eyes and hums. The irony of the situation was not lost on the Ascian. To have your soul right here in front of him, to be looking at these flowers, and to not remember anything... It makes him want to roll his eyes. Forget Me Nots. What was the point of making them if you would one day forget everything? But to be fair, Emet-Selch was hard pressed to believe that you had known any of this would happen, especially when the initial creation of the plant was long before the first calamity.

There is a quiet moment between the two of them. Emet-Selch reflecting and the warrior being even more confused at how this conversation was playing out. “Have I answered your question sufficiently?” The warrior asks. 

“Oh, yes hero. You have given an adequate answer,” Emet-Selch retrains his golden eyes to the flowers. He can’t help the soft smile that tugs at the corner of his lips or the softening of his eyes. "Long before the sundering, I knew the soul who created these flowers. I had been curious to know your thoughts on them since you share a surprising amount of similarities to them," he explains seeing the warriors troubled look. He bends down and plucks a small cluster off the plant. His thumb brushes against the petals and wishing it was your hand he held instead. A mischievous thought darts through his mind and he can’t help but heed its call. 

Emet-Selch steps up close to the warrior, his eyes never leaving theirs. They stiffen but stay rooted to the ground all the same. Without another thought he tucks the blossom into their hair just behind their ear. He admires it there for a moment, recalling how you had done this to him in the park that day you first created them. “There,” he repeats the words that you had said to him as well. “It suits you."

The warrior was dumbstruck for about five moments before their wits returned and they stumbled away, knocking the Ascian's hand off their cheek. A mix of horror and disbelief crossed their face along with a bright flush of their skin. "What are you-- I-- you--"

The lack of words that the warrior has makes Emet-Selch smile. What an interesting reaction, he muses to himself. Still sputtering, the bright faced warrior turns and dashes off in the direction of the Crystal Tower, not bothering to pull the flowers out of their hair. Would they remember before they came before the Exarch to pull it out? Or would they forget and have to face inquiries as to why it was there? Either scenario made the smile on the Ascian's lips widen.

It sparks a bit of hope within him. If the warrior can feel the calls of your soul, whether they realize it or not, then there must be a way to reawaken you. You must be in there somewhere, watching and waiting for the opportunity to emerge. Emet-Selch only needed a few more pieces of your soul to be rejoined, or a strong enough image-- something that would catch your attention and unlock those deep buried memories. And when they did come flooding back, you would return to him. You would be in his arms once again.

Like it was always meant to be.

For he has never forgotten about you.

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Forget Me Nots; Myosotis. 

Meanings--- 

True love, eternal love, fidelity, honesty, long-lasting connection, remembrance

Color Meanings ---

White: Purity, innocence

Blue: Trust, respect

Pink: Romance, love, gentleness 

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[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTES: Sorry for that delay! Holidays got a bit crazy, and I've been sorting out my life since then. Will try to get this posted a bit more regularly from now on!

Also, the theme song for this chapter is "Feeling Of Falling" by Cheat Codes and Kim Petras.

                                             CHAPTER ELEVEN

The corners of my mouth lifted up the tiniest bit. "So… this counts as a date?"

"UGH!" Miss Kawakami got up from the table and crossed to lean against the kitchen bar. Seeing her framed there, between the mini water cooler and the espresso machine, her dress revealing just enough of her back to make my fingertips tingle and my mouth run dry…

'No, Makoto,' I thought to myself. 'Focus. Don't let your weird new gay feelings distract you from helping her.'

"Look. It doesn't have to be a date. This was just the kind of dinner you deserve from a date. Not specifically from me. Not me being your date, I mean, um… if that makes sense."

"Well, why not? I'm already a maid for two of my students. Gave you a bath and let you massage me, put on this dress for you. Why shouldn't I just say 'fuck it all' and throw myself into your arms? Huh?"

There was anger and frustration bleeding through now, and it made me duck my head in fear. "I'm sorry. Y-you can leave, I won't tell anybody you left early. I d-don't want to keep you here if you-"

"No, that's exactly what you want. Right?" Finally, she turned, and she was shaking with anger. "I told you already that this can't happen, and here it is. Happening. What gives you the right to just ignore my wishes? Like I'm not the grown up here!"

"O-oh," I breathed softly, shutting down. Like a puppet with its strings cut. "You're right. I apologise."

"Makoto, what…?" Then she sighed in exasperation, throwing up both hands. "See? You act like a little kid getting yelled at! Why aren't you yelling right back at me? This is not how it would work if we were equals in this relationship! What the hell am I saying? We're not even in one! Oh my GOD…"

"Hey, it's alright," I said, finally rising from the table as I kept my voice low. "Listen. I'm… I'll go to my bedroom for a few minutes. Please enjoy your meal, and… if you're gone when I come back out, I'll underst- understand."

My voice had broken on the last word but I tried to recover quickly as I strode away from the table, the room spinning. Sadayo didn't do anything, but she did watch me go, trembling as she stood there trying to weather the blunt force of a million different emotions buffeting her all at once.

Something I could relate to.

I had only been laying on my bed for a minute or two, tears rolling down into the pillow silently as I stared at the wall, when I heard a soft knock at the door. "Come in," I said as I hastily blotted at my eyes with the tissue in my hands.

"Hey," she breathed. My lights were off, so all I could see was the halo of her slightly messy hair from the backlighting. "I, um… I seem to have lost my appetite."

"That's fine. I'll clean it up later, and… Sae and I can have the leftovers. She'll just wonder why I made duck. I'll get your money in a m-"

"I'm not leaving yet," she reassured me. "Can I sit?" I nodded, so she sat on the very edge of my bed, not quite far enough back so that we were touching. "So… now it's my turn to apologise."

"For what? You didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I did. I really overreacted out there, I… don't know why I did that. Well, I do, but it doesn't make it okay."

Eyes still blurry, I glanced up at her face that I could see a tiny bit better now. She looked pale, and scared, but not nearly as two-steps-from-crazy as she did before. Her eyes closed for a moment as she contemplated the situation, chose her next words carefully.

"You aren't… the only one."

"Hm?"

"You aren't the only one who feels this… pull toward each other." Another breath to steel herself. "I couldn't tell you when it started, or why, or how I could actually feel anything this strong for a girl in my class. But it's real and it's there."

Now I sat up a little more on my elbows. "What are you saying? Do you-"

"Wait," she bade me with a hand raised. "The thing is, that doesn't change the situation. You're a kid! And my student - and my boss when you request me through the agency. It's so messy… and I'm straight, so even if we did anything with these crazy feelings, it's probably not going to work out in a 'happily ever after' way. When I sit there and picture my ideal future, it's married to a husband who's providing for me, whose big, strong arms can comfort me when I'm sad or stressed out." Then she snorted. "Not that I'm gonna meet one at the rate I'm going, as my mom would say."

"Oh."

Her lips pulled into a little sad smile. "But I will admit you got to me way more than I thought. Just something really special about you, Niijima-san."

"And there's something special about you, too, Kawakami-san." At the term of address, she did raise an eyebrow and laugh a tiny bit, but let me continue instead of interrupting. "I've done a lot of thinking, about… what you said. Your bath and all that."

"Don't remind me," she sighed. "And how much thinking could you have done in five minutes?"

"No, not just now. The whole week." I sat up a little more as I continued, "You're my first in a lot of ways. But honestly? I don't think it matters that much. Because I know how I feel about you even without those things. Maybe I already did, because…"

When I didn't continue right away, she prompted, "Because?"

"You were the teacher I looked forward to seeing the most every day," I confided. "Probably because you were attractive to me, even though I didn't understand that until the hotel room. But it must have already been there, because… you flirting with me shocked me, but not enough. I should have been a lot more scared - I should have wanted to run screaming from the room. Instead, it almost felt… natural. And that scared me the most."

Miss Kawakami frowned. "But that flirting was just part of the job. You know that, right? I didn't… I thought you were a young man who paid to have me flirt with him. That isn't disgusting to you?"

"Like you said, it's your job. I think it would be pretty stupid and narrow-minded of me to judge you for that. Really, the way you're working so hard to pay that student back only makes me admire you more."

"Oh," she breathed, staring down at where her hands lay in her lap. As she watched, one of mine came to rest atop them, and she looked over to see my face was a lot closer. "M-Makoto, wait…"

"For what?" I whispered - and I could barely believe I was doing any of this. But it was too late to turn back; that ship had sailed. "I think you need to know right now how serious I am. Sadayo…"

Her eyes closed. "Shit. You say my name like that, and I can't…"

"Can't what? Sadayo?" That time, I was teasing a little.

"Can't resist you. Can't fight back against this huge mistake."

The last word gave me pause. Enough so that I changed my tactic; my lips pushed into her cheek instead of her mouth. But it was still a kiss. I had never kissed anyone before, and now I had, and it was my Japanese teacher. Life really is crazy. For that moment, however, we were just two women who didn't know how to handle their feelings, and it was more powerful than I ever dreamed.

"Oooooh, okay," she let out in a shaky sigh a few seconds later, when I had drawn back to rest my chin on her soft, warm shoulder. "Wow. That was nicer than a little peck on the cheek has any right to be. God…"

"Yeah?" I breathed cautiously. "I figured I should start small. Not push too much."

"So you're all in now, huh?" she asked with a bitter chuckle, despite the warmth in her eyes as she gazed down at the floor. "Totally gay, and totally gay for your teacher?"

I shrugged as I pet along her back, and she melted. It was almost comical except it was too inflaming to be laughed at. "Guess so. I'm as confused as you, but it just seems silly to pretend I'm not interested."

"Makoto… your moves are like… A+ level moves. How are you only eighteen? How are you a girl?!"

"Do you want me to put the mustache back on?" I laughed.

"No!" We both chuckled for a moment, even though halfway through she shivered and arched her back. "Oh my GOD, you are barely doing anything and I'm ready to go."

"Ready to go?"

Fearful eyes turned on me. "Wait - forget I said that. Shit, why did I say that?!"

"Do you mean…" My eyes widened, and I felt heat explode within my cheeks. "Oh."

"I said forget I said it, so stop thinking about it! Wow, I really am a mess - I need to see a therapist or something!"

My teacher was turned on. Was this really happening? Despite the fact that, as she said, I was barely doing anything to her, apparently it was getting her aroused and ready for me to explore further. Only question was…

Was I as ready to explore as she was to be explored?

"It's okay," I reassured her, petting a little more firmly and hoping it would help. "I, um, I don't remember you saying anything. Just that I have some good moves. Did you say something after that?"

Her embarrassed laugh spoke volumes. "Nice try, kid. Ugh, I'm such a loser."

"Why? Because having someone focused on you feels good? Because this…" I pet a single finger down the middle of her back - not even sure how I knew to do that, running purely on instinct - and she shook and shivered. "…feels good?"

"Stop, please…"

"Really?" My hand came to rest in the middle of her back, staying totally still. "I will if you want me to."

"Yes. I do." So I took the hand away. Her eyes were sad, but what she said was, "Thank you."

Swallowing hard, trying to ignore the pinprick of fear in my stomach, I whispered, "Of course. I'm sorry, I just… I thought I could make you feel nice, and you might feel less… mad at yourself? Scared?"

"You did, in a way. But you also made it way worse." She turned to gaze at me. "Because it worked. You got me all revved up by barely doing anything - and I only felt that with the best of the dates I've been on. Even then, most of the guys had to work harder to get me there."

"Except… you don't want it from me. I'm a student, and a girl." She nodded, and I sighed. "I understand."

"Well, I don't," she blustered, folding her arms over her chest. My hand was resting on her thighs now, but I tried to keep it still so as not to draw attention to that. "This is nuts! I feel like I'm being pranked, except it's way too real to be a prank, so…"

"How do you think I feel? You're my teacher, and so beautiful. And a woman - which I think I'm somehow more comfortable with that than you are. But it doesn't mean I'm not panicking."

"You're panicking?" she asked, and I could tell she was almost grateful to think about me instead of her own feelings. "But you seem so cool with it all. Like, other than when I scream at you like an idiot."

My lips split in a smile. "Not an idiot. You just weren't expecting any of this. We're both trying to figure it out." I pet her thigh a little now, and she shivered. "Is this alright?"

"N-no." I stopped. "God… I can't believe how different it is with girls."

"Hm?"

"I ask you to stop, and you actually do it. No 'Aww, c'mon' first, no telling me I'm some big tease if I get less comfortable."

"Oh," I chuckled softly. "Do you want me to do that instead? I probably could learn."

"GOD NO!" Then we both laughed. "It's one of the only clear advantages. But, um… anyway, yeah. How do you keep from blowing your stack while I'm over here, sweating enough to fill a bucket?"

"You are not sweating," I snorted as I thought the question over. Finally, I sat up completely, my legs out and to the side behind her as my face rested against her shoulder. She didn't seem to mind me there, even if my touches were too much for her to handle at the present.

"Miss Kawakami, I wish I knew what to tell you. But I've always been like this under pressure. I'm still freaking out and trying to figure out what to do, but it's like… there isn't any point in letting the panic turn me into a mess, so I just… don't. And I can't explain to you why I'm like that, either."

"Lucky," she pouted.

"I feel lucky. You're not yelling at me for all this, and… I do keep worrying about what you said."

"Which thing I said?"

"That I'll go too far and you won't tell me to stop, and I'll hurt you. That's why I keep taking such… small chances." I kissed her shoulder again, and she sighed. "Like that one."

Humming her pleasure at the next kiss, she finally whispered, "They're small but they aren't small. My brain is telling me 'no', but my body…"

After the next kiss, when she still hadn't finished her thought, I whispered, "Tell me."

"My body wants this. Needs it - and that's all I'm going to say, because it's already really terrible that I told that to any student. I deserve everything that's happened to me in the past few years. Scummy old woman."

"Hey." I reached up and gently moved her chin so she was facing me, and her eyes grew wide and fearful. "Don't talk about yourself like that. It's not fair. Those two are wrong."

"How are they wrong? I got a student killed, and now I'm feeling way too much for another. I'm a monster, Makoto-chan."

Smiling, I leaned a little closer. "Don't you mean 'Niijima-san'?"

"Right. That thing."

"You aren't a monster. And you aren't scummy. You're a beautiful, smart-"

"I can't take any more compliments," she laughed shakily as my face got closer. "I can't take any more of this, no matter how much I…"

"What? No matter how much… you want it?" I guessed.

All she could do was nod before our lips made contact.

Kissing Sadayo was both everything I had ever dreamed it could be, and nothing like I expected. Which didn't seem to fit together very neatly, since those feelings were such different shapes. It was warmth, and softness, and openness… passion and comfort mixing like fire and water. And now that I had tried it…

I could no longer imagine kissing a man. That easily. As much as I still couldn't believe I was with a woman, it felt so right that I didn't want to question it anymore; didn't think it was necessary. Her mouth was sweet and warm and open to me, and as our lips kneaded each other, I craved more, I leaned up harder against her, my arm wrapping around her back to keep her close.

"Shit," she breathed when we finally broke apart. Only then did I realise her hand had come to rest on my upper arm, another around my waist.

"Huh? I mean… hey."

"Hey." Swallowing hard, eyes swimming with the threat of tears, she went on, "I'm… just… it's not fair."

"What isn't fair?"

"That a little girl just gave me the best kiss of my life."

Blushing though I was, I managed to protest, "I'm not a little girl. I'm a grown woman; I just so happen to be in school, that's all."

"You'll be 'grown' when you can order that wine at a restaurant," she muttered, and I couldn't help smiling. "This is still a really… terrible idea, but…"

"It's good, though?" I insisted on knowing. "You're not just flattering me? I've never kissed anyone before."

"Stop reminding me how young you are," she whined. But when she saw me biting my lip, she closed her eyes and whispered, "The best. You just barely beat out Katsuya from my high school; he was really good, too. Like, legendary."

"Wow, high school must have been a really long time ago. How do you even remember?" When her eyes flew open, I dipped my head. "Teasing. O-or trying to. You really shouldn't shame yourself so much for this happening; it was… fate."

Her hand began to caress up and down my arm, and I felt the goosebumps dimpling and shifting under the light touch. "You believe in that stuff? Like fate? Oh - right, you still owe me a reading."

"Reading?" Her heeled foot raised up and waggled just in the corner of my vision, and I smiled bashfully. "Oh yeah… I don't know why I thought that would work."

"Honestly, I wasn't sure why you were asking about my shoe size until I saw the heels in the bathroom. So it did work; it just was very suspicious. Like, what is solestry, anyway?!"

"It's a real practice!" When she squinted at me, I shrugged and admitted, "So maybe it's not very widespread…"

"If you wanna play with my feet again, just ask. You don't have to make up fortune-telling excuses; I don't even believe in tarot cards or any of that."

Sure I was beet red by now, I whispered, "Wh-why are you so sure I'm some pervert? I just liked giving you a massage!"

"You did kiss them," she laughed. "And I'm teasing. But you keep getting all flustered, so if you want me to stop my teasing and let you play with them… just say the word and I will. I mean it."

"But you freaked out when we kissed. Why would that be any different? Because they're only feet?"

"In a word… yeah?" We both laughed. "Okay, okay, so you're not into it. I just… I don't know, I'm trying to think outside the box. Things that won't be as dangerous as that kiss was a few seconds ago. Do you want to take another bath?"

"Only if we're both naked."

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Sadayo was still gulping and gaping at me when I hastily averted my gaze to stare at the wall, my fingers flexing where they rested against her shoulderblade. Seconds ticked by in silence as we tried to figure out how to recover from that line.

"So…"

"Maybe we should go back to eating," Sadayo whispered.

"I thought you lost your appetite."

"I did. But um… that kiss kind of… woke it back up. So either I satisfy it that way, or…"

My eyes lifted to meet hers, and I was aware of how close our mouths still were. "Or we could do it in a fun way?"

"No. We really shouldn't do that. I want to, I… guess there's no point pretending I don't, but it's still a bad idea."

"I'm sorry I said such a stupid thing," I suddenly blurted. "I thought it would be funny, or flirty, but instead it sounded… kind of… scary."

"Yeah," she agreed with a hard swallow as she pulled me tighter against her side. "But I know you weren't doing that on purpose; I'm… this is why you don't date somebody nine years younger than you, right? They don't have the same experiences you do. I've been around the block a few times; you just got to the neighbourhood."

"Then show me. You're already my teacher at Shujin; teach me this, too. How to do it right instead of… of messing up and making you feel bad."

"This is not what 'sex education' is supposed to mean, you know," she chuckled. I smiled a little along with her.

"Let's finish dinner. I feel like you don't want to try more because you're worried about too many things, so maybe it's smarter if… we don't keep sitting on my bed."

A long whine issued from her mouth. "I kissed a teenager. On her goddamn bed, I must be out of my mind!"

"Yeah, but… think of it this way." I couldn't help smiling up at her as I whispered playfully, "You're hot enough to get a teenager to kiss you. On her goddamn bed. Has to count for something."

That did at least earn a giddy laugh from her as she facepalmed. "Sure. It means I'm a real vixen for a predator, right?"

"Hey, don't call yourself that," I scolded her, eyes darkening a little. I saw her blink in surprise at how insistent I was. "Not ever again. I'm the one who's been chasing you, not the other way around; that makes you an herbivore, I think."

"Well… I… sure, yeah," she admitted with a weary nod. "You're right, let's go eat. That duck was really good and I feel terrible that we kind of flirted our way out of finishing it."

"You really like my cooking?" I asked as we stood up, arms still loosely around each other. Now I was a lot shorter than her again - only because she was still wearing the heels. Which was at my insistence, so I had no one to blame but myself.

"Makoto, it was amazing. Where did you get that recipe?! Not that I can cook anything besides curry and instant ramen, anyway… what a failure of an adult I am."

"I think you're perfect," I breathed as we left the room. That only made her groan.

                                                    To Be Continued…

[cassi-misc-art]

FFM 2021 - Louis

I wanted the world to make sense. I wanted a world I could understand the rules of, where I could more easily tell who was "bad" or "good," even if there were still people who could hide it. But I couldn't bring myself to wish away the world I had grown up in, no matter how stressful and strange it was.

So I wished myself away instead.

I found myself in bed, in a quiet room in a wooden building. An inn, I presumed. I was dressed only in breeches, and there was a large traveling sack in the corner of the room furthest from the door. I sat quietly for a while, regarding the bag thoughtfully. I would really need it, wouldn't I. I had no more home, no more family... Nobody to force interaction on me, but nobody to interact with except strangers. Well. Too late to worry about that now.

The travel sack had a few shirts and a second pair of breeches, and there was a pair of sturdy boots that had been partially hidden behind it. I took my time getting dressed, judging the texture of the shirt I'd chosen, feeling the floor beneath my feet as I checked the bag for a pair of socks (there were none), and pulled on the boots, tightening the laces and wiggling my toes around as I adjusted to them.

Once I was dressed and comfortable, I made my way downstairs. The dining room was generously but not overly populated, and I did my best not to stare at the non-human patrons. Orcs! Lizardfolk! Just as I had imagined them! "Hey, kid!" I flinched, then turned around. One of the orcs handed me a bow and a quiver full of arrows. "You only needed to turn it in for the night, not give it up!" He laughed, slapping my shoulder with enough force that I rocked sideways.

I laughed as well, a bit nervously. The orc was right, and I felt foolish for not realizing that I obviously needed a weapon in this world. I thanked the orc with a mumble and left the inn. I'm a ranger, and rangers are comfortable in the embrace of nature, so it wouldn't be too conspicuous when I headed into the nearby forest instead of walking the road out of town. I knew I was weak, but I also that I had certain abilities, in this world. There are rules to be played by, and I intended to see what those rules allow me to do. I walked deeper into the woods, still keeping to the wider gaps between trees, where there's more sunlight filtering down. I don't have dark vision, so I didn't want it to be too dark.

The main concern in testing this hypothesis would be to find a subject. While I could hear birds singing and the occasional rustling of a squirrel in the branches above me, I could not actually find an animal close enough to me to test my abilities on. But it was nice just to walk, so I didn't mind terribly. I grew hungry after some time, and sat myself down on a log, searching through my sack and finding a wrapped package of dried meat and a sack of mixed nuts. While I snacked, I heard the chattering of a squirrel above me. I leaned my head back, trying to spot it, and after a moment I was able to discern its location. I moved more slowly, hoping it would come closer in curiosity, and eventually it did. I leaned over and placed a cashew as far from me as I could reach, hoping to at least lure the squirrel down to a reasonable distance, and then put my own food away, leaning forward, arms on my legs to keep myself upright, patiently waiting for the critter to get within range. It took a while, but at last, he came down. And then I did it: I cast a spell.

Speak With Animals.

"Hello, small friend."

The squirrel blinked and looked up at me. "Can talk squirrel? Strange! Hello! Am Chipchur!"

"Chipchur? A good name. I am Louis. Tell me about yourself."

"Loowis want know Chipchur? Okay! Chipchur wise! Handsome! Fast! Chipchur climb tree to top, see all! Chipchur nest good for babies! Chipchur babies strong!"

He was very proud of himself, and was eager to unleash that pride, but there was no competitive edge to his bragging. To Chipchur, these traits were important to share with others. When I asked if there were any other squirrels 'like him' he informed me that Peepchip was wise, Chursqueak had a comfortable nest, and so on, sounding just as proud of them as he was of himself.

I didn't notice the sensation in my hands at first. It was only when I began to wonder how soon the spell would end that I noticed the warmth in them, like holding a coffee mug. As Chipchur and I conversed, the warmth only grew stronger, from a tingle to an itch and finally, true pain. I did my best to hide my discomfort, not wanting my first conversation with a wild animal to be ruined by such a thing, but as the spell faded and I bade Chipchur farewell, I couldn't ignore it anymore. But I didn't know why this was happening, or how to stop it.

Something in the back of my head told me what was happening. That every time I cast a spell, I would follow it up with this one.

I ran.

I needed to find water, or mud, or just an open area. I couldn't let this happen.

Rangers aren't supposed to cast Fire Storm.

[findinganewshrubbery]

Old Bri’we & Xo’catl

_Xo’catl always surprised her on some level, no matter how many times she found him or, as was more common vice versa. He was a Primal, yes. He was the -Apex-, yes. Blood got him started but he held restraint tighter in his claws than she did. She knew this from how he had been present when she had taken Mag’s tongue, how his stance had subtly changed when her blood had hit the air, and how he had wanted to practically thrash the smoulderthorn and yet, had -asked- first. He was the same social rank as she was if she remembered correctly, but as she was handling it he had asked. She was always very careful to ask him to do things, and made a note to doubly so be certain to. He had respected her. She would respect him in turn.

That wasn't to say she didn't already respect him. He had kept a distance when they had first met. She had explained to him that it was simply because he was a larger male, she remembered. She never had asked what he thought of being considered by size and gender before being a primal even entered the picture. _

She ran. Somewhere there was a friend who was grieving just as much as everyone else, who she doubted anyone else save for the others of his pack would bother to check on him. She only slowed from time to time as she scented the ground and communed with the ambient flora. Did something large come through here? Yes. Good. She was on the right track. She ghosted along, a sliver of grey with a ruff of red mane sliding through the underbrush unseen.

_By the time she had realized she was bossing him around, telling him to sit and drink she had been surprised that he had actually complied. He was the leader of the pack. Supposedly he only obeyed the chief without question. If anyone else told us to drink strange liquids, he had mused, and she found herself both relieved and angered that he would trust her that much. What if someone comes to you wearing my face, she wanted to scold him. He knew the edges of how she considered herself a monster, and the words died in the back of her throat as she checked him over with a glance, seeing both inside of him and out. Minimal fel taint. Good. Otherwise unwounded. His regeneration had probably taken care of anything superfluous and he clearly had been fast enough to avoid anything serious. There were patches of fur missing, after all. Flesh healed faster for trolls than fur regrew. He was fine. Good. Now to tell him what he had missed._

She nearly lost his trail, overshooting it and heading down to the beach, pacing back and forth along the edge of the water as she sniffed and snuffled. No scent, no plants-

Stranglekelp in the water. She perked her ears and listened. Nothing interesting? She must have overshot it. She circled and sought out the edges of the scent she was tracking, finding it half-way up a small mountain. Yay, climbing. She grumbled as she continued.

_She had heard him, ears of a bat and all that. For once she was thankful that her shapeshifting was poor enough to have bleed-through effects that had warped her trollish natural form. Her sight was reduced, but her hearing was keen from the bat. The muscle tone she had built up was denser, from the bear. She had marginally better reflexes that compensated for how much heavier she was than normal from the panther. She could hold her breath better from the sea lion. Who did he have, she had wondered, to keep him company through his grief? The raptor, Ma’cua, but would that be enough? For the instinct side of things, maybe. But balance would serve better._

Her claws rasped against the stone as she made her way along, huffing as she settled on the relatively flat surface and took in the scent of old kills. It was well ventilated, but bones could only smell like bones, after all. Raptor hung heavy in the air, and the panther she wore was cautious, more so than she normally was. Step lightly, taskmaster, her instincts bade her. Today, we meet on -his- terms, his territory. It would be foolish to think for an instant that simply because he is acceptant of my antics at my perch, that he would automatically be so accepting in his own home, she told herself, and shed the spirit of the panther she wore.

No point in sneaking up on him, she mused. He likely already knows i’m here. Who could blame him if he snapped at her? Things happen. She just hoped if she needed to she could get enough distance to fly if she needed it. She was far enough away that the keening that sawed through her consciousness in the city was reduced to an ignorable whimper, and had the focus to do what she could.

The druid moved forward, unafraid.

She called to him, ears perked as she listened, moving forward once he grunted in response until she came to the ledge that was a good two feet over her head and, with resignation, reached to haul herself partially up and fold her arms to anchor herself, torso and legs flat against the stone. When he didn’t immediately tell her to bugger off, she deemed it safe enough to climb up and was both thankful that he spared her pride and also miffed that he didn’t reach back and help her up. As she spoke, she caught his ears flicking down at the reminder of the funeral she had just left. She gave him the trinket she had grown - one of three, for him, herself, and Kiki’ti - and asked if she could stay.

_“Do as you wish.”_

She paused to ponder what she wanted to do, down to the core of her being. She wanted to scream until she died of asphyxiation. She wanted to open up his skull to determine if the changes to his form were strictly external or if alterations to his brain had occurred to allow for better processing of extrasensory information that heightened senses often brought, she wanted to hit things and tear them apart with her hands as she sang and danced in the gore as the euphoria of taking the life of another living being surged through her while she kicked her heels up. She wanted to know if he needed a hug, if that was appropriate between friends.

_“Don’t really think that’d turn out too well.” She mused._

They went back and forth with idle chatter for some time, with her detailing the latest bout with Azan’ji and fighting the urge to ask the Apex if there was anything she could pass on to the primal fledglings, anything she could do to help in his absence so that the already iffy reputation of Primals wouldn’t be irrevocably damaged. She wanted to ask about how his experiment (the term sent a tingle of curiosity and excitement through her before she subdued it) was going, with working to allow Primals to perhaps spar with meatbags, but decided to hold onto that card until she ran thin on topics. She offered part of her thoughts on why she felt comfortable around Primals, that she knew she wouldn’t likely be able to beat one but if she could knock one down, she could plausibly get away. She mentioned she had knocked the Bear down, and flexed, making light of it to keep the mood positive.

When he mentioned she had beaten Jaws, she scoffed internally, replaying how she had gained momentum as a bat before letting the sturdiness of her bear bloom through her limbs, granting her mass and strength before bowling the tall Drakkari over and sitting on him. She remembered the feeling of being King that always came when she wore that form. She remembered how fast he had moved after she had let him up. She would never make the mistake of thinking that she could take a Primal on, one on one, fairly. If she -cheated-, of course that changed everything...

_“Don’t get it wrong, I knocked him over, not beat him.”_

He replied something to the effect that it was the same thing, and the rest of the evening passed in peace.

[hayjeon]

WWRD 03: Freedom Doesn’t Exist

→ angst, implied smut, vampire/war!au → when a forbidden relationship between the general’s daughter and a vampire used as a military tool takes place during the war. → prologue: “I know” | 01 I swear on my honor | 02 “Marry me” [M] | 03 Freedom doesn’t exist | 04 On the Other Side

And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.

A/N: I should be studying for chem but this happened! ASFAEFflkj ENJOY

You waved to your father leaving in his sleek black car, followed by other cars and trucks full of his subordinates from his division. Sighing, your mother turned and slowly walked into the house, probably planning to lay in her bed all night. 

She did this on a regular basis, moping around and walking around like a corpse until your father returned to reassure her of his survival and safety during a battle. But you knew each time, he would return home safe. Your father, now in his high ranks, barely fought anymore; his days of rushing and barging into the battlefield with a heroic cry were over. Now, it was usually Jeongguk who was the one who often went out and did the fighting and came back unscathed.

After your father and Jeongguk’s father had introduced their battle plan a few nights before at the gala, the elite had been chattering about the “superhumans” now implemented into the plans for war. Even your maids and the girls in your tutoring classes were gossiping about how scary but handsome these creatures were. But you tuned them out, unable to get your mind off of that one pale man who’d kissed your hand the night before. 

Moments after he’d kissed your hand, Jeongguk had pushed you behind him and glared at the vampire, a challenging act that seemed to distress the other men accompanying the man, who went by the name Min Yoongi. Sensing the tension, Jeongguk’s father had effortlessly inserted himself between you and Jeongguk and the superhumans, and had laughed and guided them another way to meet some more generals and officials in the army. 

Jeongguk visibly relaxed once the men turned to leave, but when Yoongi turned around to meet your eyes gazing behind Jeongguk’s shoulder, he gave you a wink that made your fiancee tense and let out some incomprehensible curse words. Once the vampires were out of sight, he turned to you holding your shoulders and glancing around your body. “Are you alright Y/N?” His eyes were wide and his brows furrowed. 

You were still a bit taken aback at the sudden turn of events, but you met his eyes and tried to smile as genuinely as you could. “Yes, Jeongguk, I’m fine. Do not worry yourself. You have a battle tomorrow as well, you should go get some rest.” 

He’d hesitated, but nodded visibly relaxing at your hand in his bicep, and offered to walk you home. Letting your parents know you would talk a walk home, and ignoring the admiring eyes your mother gave Jeongguk, you had taken his arm and walked towards your home. It was a bit away, but it was enough for a comfortable walk with him. 

And he’d stayed pretty silent the whole walk, gazing at the gardens and the landscape you passed as you walked towards the manor you resided in. But as you neared your doorstep, he’d stopped you, a few steps below you on the steps leading to your front door. He stared up at you for a moment, and then seemed to make his decision in his mind, and took your hand before placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Good night Y/N.” He’d said, and he then walked quickly back to the direction of the gala. 

Your hand tingled throughout the night, and you dreamed of red eyes and red lips.

Today was the night of Jeongguk and your father’s departure for the battle they were preparing for. It was also important, as your father told you, that “tonight would be the first time we’re collaborating with the creatures.” 

Your mother was distressed over dinner, anxious at the uncertainty of this entire plan. “But what if they suddenly decide to turn on us? Dearest, they’re horrible creatures! They’ll rip you and your ranks apart!” She began tearing up at the dinner table. 

Your father put his utensils down and comforted her, turning to you. “These men are not irresponsible, that I can assure you. They might have more, abilities–” he paused. “But they’re still honorable men who will uphold the agreement we have.” 

You took a sip of your wine. “What is the agreement father?” 

“In turn for them fighting alongside, we are to leave them be and let them integrate into our country after the war. Their names are going to be lost, their identities swapped, and blood from hospitals given to them for food. They will become humans living in our world, and we have promised to leave them be.” 

You chewed your food quietly as your mother started crying again and your father had to escort her out into her bedroom. You silently sipped your wine, and glanced around the huge empty dining hall. It wasn’t likely your father would uphold his part of the agreement. He was the General of the army, head figure of thousands of men, and the primary person who protected your country; alongside General Jeon of course. You heard the whispers of some servants, your father’s hands weren’t as clean as he made them out to be. He'd used corruption, swindling, threats; these were all things you heard gossip about, and when you accidentally stumbled next to your father’s window whilst picking some flowers, the low murmurs of the men he’d often meet with proved your suspicions. 

He was a man of no integrity, or honor. The man who raised you from a distance, the one who was only there to scold you and to reprimand you whenever you didn’t act the part of a General’s daughter, the general both in and out of the house, and the one who had the audacity to call himself a great father in front of the nation, was not honorable at all. You knew his promises to the vampires would fall through, that his only goal was to go higher and to grow in power, and that the only people he showed his true colors to were his enemies, as he put bullets through their heads and fires through their cities. 

You finished your meal alone, and glanced at the clock. It was finally time for your father to leave, you saw Jeongguk’s car pull up to your driveway to pick up your father. You hovered at the doorway as they pulled away, only giving a small smile to Jeongguk who gave you one in return, and bowed to your father without a word. 

He grunted and patted your shoulder awkwardly, an attempt to show some affection in front of Jeongguk, and had bade goodbye to your mother before getting in the car. And as they pulled away, your heart only tugged a bit for Jeongguk as you wished silently for his safety, for the man you were to be married to and the only man who understood your hatred of this life. 

Every morning it was waking up at 6, having maids prepare you breakfast and then force you into a tight corset and the newest gowns, gifted from the royal dress-maker. Then it was your hair, and makeup, and then you were rushed off to take classes of music, singing, dancing, history, math, science, languages, cooking, and floral arranging until the sun fell. Other daughters of higher ranking generals joined you, only concerned in their appearances and demanding things of the servants whenever you met, and gossiping about country affairs until the classes ended. And then it was dinner with your parents or some important people, and then it was nighttime. And this pattern repeated over and over again. 

You longed to delve into your books, to travel and read stories about foreign lands and the theories scientists were creating. Your fingers itched to tinker with the gears in the small clock next to your table, to fix that odd whirring noise that would just require some grease and a few minutes. You wanted to ride your horse the right way, to wear those marvelous pants that the men wore and gallop freely, instead of always having to sit sideways with your long skirts and always have the horse walk slower than a trot, to avoid splashing mud onto your expensive shoes. 

But your days were organized, as a librarian organizes his shelves, and there was no space for “unladylike” things. Your father would throw you into your room with your tutors for days on end if you ever got caught reading books outside of your curriculum, claiming that stories like Romeo and Juliet only “filled the heads of girls with air, of stories of false fairy tales.” Your mother would scold you, reminding you of the privilege you had to even have the opportunity to be living such a life of wealth, promised to betroth such a “dashing young man like Jeongguk,” to have appearance that was praised by all. And you’d learned to suppress such thoughts, to clench your fists whenever you heard the grinding of the clock, to choke back your tears as you arranged the damn flowers, and to keep your head high and your face emotionless as the saddle dug into your hips from riding in such an awkward position for so long. 

But days like today, when your father left with a huge chunk of his soldiers who guarded your home, and your mother was probably crying or complaining in her bedroom, you had a glimpse of freedom. 

As soon as you heard your mother shut her bedroom door, you hiked up your skirts and dashed for your bedroom. The sun had set, and your house was now quiet save for the occasional shuffling of the servants in the other rooms. You began stripping off the layers to your gown, gasping as you untied the strings to your corset, removed your hair pins, and kicked off your dainty heels. You went to the back of your closet, where a small box lay hidden from sight. Opening it, you took out the garments and set them on your bed, scrambling to put them on. You tied your hair back into a sleek ponytail and grabbed a small satchel and placed your favorite book in it before hanging it around your shoulders. Glancing in the mirrors, your eyes brushed over your outfit, scanning the tight riding pants, the riding boots, and the black coat you were wearing. Making sure your pony tail was out of sight and tucked properly into the helmet, you tightened the straps to the satchel before arranging the pillows to make it look like you were sleeping and opening the large doors to your balcony. 

You closed them silently behind you, breathing in the crisp night air. The moon was high and only sliver of light from the crescent shape. You stretched over the railing and successfully caught the branch, slinging your legs over the balcony to secure you footing on the cherry blossom tree, before climbing your way down to the first floor. You jumped off, and began to creep to the other side of the mansion, careful to avoid any other guards on duty. 

For months, you’d been watching the trends and schedules of the guards, and it was obvious that half of them went with your father to his battles, and half of them remained to protect the home. They rotated, in order to fill up the empty spots, and you memorized their places as well. 

Finally getting to the stables, you sneaked in and pressed yourself against the wall of one of the stables as two guards walked past, arguing about something, too distracted to see you in the shadows. You watched them walk away from the manor and you knew you had about 5 minutes to get out before the next guards on duty got to the stables. 

Holly was ready, gleeful and stomping her hooves once you saw her, and you smiled, giving her a carrot you’d stolen from the kitchen. “Atta girl,” you whispered. “It’s time for our weekly run!” 

Arranging the saddle, you heaved yourself up and rode away from the mansion into the forest, following the path you’d been taking for the past few months. 

It was a quiet but clear path, heading straight for the hills. You blended in, with your uniform you stole from someone’s locker, with the other stable boys taking the horses out on their nightly runs and walks. There was no way the guards would notice your absence. 

You let Holly gallop, lowering your head and pressing your upper body to her mane, relishing in the feeling of the air whipping past your ears and the cold air stinging your face. You slowed down only when you neared the top of the hill. 

This was the place you came every week, the hill that overlooked your father’s vineyards and the other towns nearing your area. There was a clearing, that was always lit up by the stars, and quiet for you to just bask in until it was time to go home. 

You let Holly graze on the flowers dotting the fields, as you sighed and plopped down on the soft grass with your book. Hugging your knees, you gazed down at the lights and the movements of servants in the vineyards. You couldn’t hear them, but from the likes of it, they were dancing and singing, happy even though their hands were weathered from the days of picking and their backs bent from the labor. 

Removing your helmet and untying the ribbon in your hair, you let it cascade down your back and whip around your face as you closed your eyes, whispering into the night air. 

“Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-browed night,” You let your head tip back and breath in the small taste of freedom that came to you on this hill. 

“And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.”

You whipped your head around, scrambling up and grabbing anything to defend yourself, which ended up being the helmet and your eyes wide and frantic as you searched for the voice of the man who’d whispered them back. No one had come to this hill before, and no one was supposed to be here if they were a servant. 

“Who are you?!” you yelled out in the darkness. There was nothing but trees around you, and the moon lit up the clearing enough for you to see that you were alone. “Come out!” 

“Oh, I have bought the mansion of a love, But not possessed it, and though I am sold, Not yet enjoyed.”

“Show yourself!” You screamed into the night. And then you heard your response, right in your ear. 

“A lady like you shouldn’t be here all alone.” You shrieked and scrambled back, falling to the ground as you crawled back and scrambled at the grass. It was the vampire from the other night, standing above you with a dark look and hands in his pockets as he grinned at your startled appearance. Quickly standing up and wielding the helmet in front of you, you stammered, “Wh-w-what do you want from me?” 

He smirked, turning towards the hillside where the view of the vineyards was. “I’m not here to hurt you, princess.” 

You lowered the helmet, warily eyeing his figure. You whipped your head around to see where Holly was, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

He seemed to notice you searching. “The horse will be back soon. I sent her away.” He sat down on the grass, arms coming behind him to support him as he leaned back with his legs crossed long in front of him.

You gaped at him. “You speak to animals?” He laughed this time, his eyes still staring at the view, “Don’t act like you’re surprised, didn’t you hear gossip about our kind? You’ve probably heard worse things about us from your people.” 

You frowned. “I-I don’t know much. I tried not to listen to them.” You lowered your head. At this he turned to you finally, quirking an eyebrow up at you. “Is that so?” 

You nodded, glancing warily around for Holly. You kneeled on the grass, still grasping the helmet, and glancing at the vampire seated on the grass. He was still staring at you. He cocked his head at you, frowning at you, and you stared right back at his questioning gaze. 

“Interesting.” He muttered and turned back to gaze quietly at the vineyards. It was even darker now, the lights in the cities slowly blinking off one by one as townsfolk began to retreat to their homes for the night. The servants in the vineyard had by now cleared out, the fires and lanterns they lit now burning low or put out. “Girls like you are usually nosy.” 

You bristled at that. “Excuse me, what do you mean by girls like me?” 

He chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly. With a sour voice, he said, “Spoiled girls like you who take classes on how to curtsey perfectly and read stupid romances like that one.” He turned to you and cocked his chin at the book on the grass between you. It was Romeo and Juliet, the play you were quoting when he’d snuck up on you, and also, your favorite play. 

You snatched the book and held it close to your chest. Glaring at him, you sneered, “First of all, there is so much more to girls like me, who are forced to do countless hours of idiotic nonsense but break away for a moment of peace. And–!” you began, the words spilling out of you so quickly you couldn’t catch yourself, “–this is Shakespeare’s greatest masterpiece! It has so much more to it than just the love story! You know nothing!” You exclaimed, face red in angry, huffing at your exclamation. 

He smirked again, turning to face you with an incredulous expression. “Calm down princess. I apologize if I offended you.” He turned his entire body toward you, bringing up a knee that he rested his elbow on and he leaned in. “Care to elaborate?” 

You were still clutching the book close to your chest. “The book isn’t about love.” Your voice was strained now, your eyebrows furrowing as you stared at the blades of grass between you, your knees a few feet away from the extended foot of the vampire. “It’s about hate. All of the characters are driven by hate, their hate for eachother, for their lives, for their human condition.” 

He said nothing, so you continued. “It’s just all hidden behind the plot of star-crossed lovers, but really, Shakespeare is commenting on the flaws of human nature, our tendency to love, to hate, to die, too quickly.” You were now whispering, but he heard every word. 

He was still staring at you, but you couldn’t look up into his eyes, embarrassed at how unladylike your outburst was. You were moments away from apologizing, when he responded, “Interesting for a lady like you to understand something like that. I thought girls like you were instructed to memorize the poetry just to impress others. Not understand it.” 

You finally looked up into his eyes. You murmured, “Those words you quoted, the part of Juliet’s cry to the sky in wait of Romeo, is not just her cry for missing Romeo’s presence. But rather, it expresses society’s willingness to lose its innocence in exchange for emotion; just like how all of us girls are forced to memorize these lines word for word in exchange for some momentary applause. The beauty of the lines themselves are lost.” 

He nodded slowly, staring at you. “Interesting for the daughter of the General to be speaking this way.” 

Your eyes widened, “H-how did you–” He smirked, “A girl like you isn’t easy to forget, even if I’ve lived for four hundred years.” 

You gasped, he’d lived for 400 years?! The thought came to you and you found yourself blurting out, “You’ve lived for 400 years, then you were alive when he was alive?” 

He nodded, the corner of his lips tugging up at the sides at your eagerness. Your eyes were wide, leaning forward towards him, mouth gaping open and your hair fluttering around you. “Yes, princess. His plays were as marvelous as you’d imagine.” 

You forgot about everything that moment, dropping the helmet and scooting closer to him. “Please, tell me about them.” 

He leaned back and watched the hills again, “Well to begin, our plays today were nothing compared to the skill these actors had. Hand-picked by William himself, they were able to capture the emotions of the characters perfectly.” 

You closed your eyes, trying to imagine his words. “Hundreds of people would gather in the Royale Theatre, Queen Elizabeth the first herself would show up with her family. It was an open wooden structure, and the actors would take their places and play drums and flutes and harps. Then they would act, with no props, no useless lights, the only spotlight from the moon and stars. Like right now.” 

You opened your eyes to see that the moon was now high in the sky, the sliver of light falling right on the hill you and him were sitting on. He continued, “Their voices would ring so clearly around the arena, and you could see their tears and their expressions from so many feet away.” 

“Shakespeare would sit at the topmost balcony, watching carefully and always scribbling something in that notebook of his. But it was always perfect, always astonishing for thousands of people to gather, just to hear what this one man had written.” 

“It sounds beautiful.” You sighed, letting out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. He turned to look at you. “What’s your name princess?” 

“Y/N.” you murmured, unable to tear your eyes away from his gaze. 

“Y/N,” He muttered, rolling the name around on his tongue. Smiling to himself, “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in your father’s home, sleeping and waiting until he’s back from battle?” 

You unfolded your legs from beneath you, hugging them to your chest, and lowering your gaze. “He’ll be fine. He is not the one who fights.” 

“And your husband?” 

You correct him, “My fiancee. He will be fine as well. He is a skilled lieutenant.” 

He cynically laughed into the air. “This is interesting. The general’s daughter is not in love with her fiancee and instead loves stealing into the night to read some Shakespeare!” He threw his head back and laughed, the dark chuckles ringing into the quiet cold air. 

Your eyes widened, as you sneered back, “H-how d-dare you? I didn’t say anything of the sorts!” 

He turned to you with an entertained expression. “Oh princess, I think you’ve forgotten who I am. I am a vampire, a creature that’s lived far longer than you can imagine. Even though you’re a bit different than other ladies, you’re still a girl at heart and I can see right through it.” 

You crossed your arms across your chest. “What do you mean by that?” 

He turned to you, crouching before you, and looming extremely close to you. Caught off guard, you could only gape as he leaned in and smirked, eyes roaming your face. You were like a mouse caught in a corner, as the cat hungrily eyed his prey, frozen and unable to say or do anything. He reached up and curled a long piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Do you long for freedom, princess? To be able to escape and live a life that’s not elite, to choose who you marry, to pretend like this war doesn’t matter to you?” 

You gasped, panting as he leaned back on his knee in front of you. “Wh-wha-t do you mean?” 

“I can see it in your eyes. You thirst for freedom.” 

He moved away from you, still staring at you with tired eyes. You let out a breath, and scrambled to stand up, trying to put as much distance between you two as you could. 

He turned back to the hills. 

“But let me break it to you. Freedom doesn’t exist. Those people down there,” He gestured lazily to the towns that were now dark, only a few street lights glinting here and there. “They’re all caught in their own shackles, trying to escape the poverty, the work. All humans force themselves into their own prison, and can never escape. Freedom only comes with death.” 

You frowned, mulling over his words. “Then you? You said humans do this?” 

He froze for a second, and stood up, staring back at you with hands in his pockets again. 

“No one is ever free. And neither am I, or my brothers. We’re all caught in this agreement, this war. And we know, once we get out of this, that there’s no chance at our survival, that our existence will all soon come to an end.”

You briskly take a few steps toward him in shock. “H-how did you –?” 

He shakes his head. “It’s not just your father, princess. It’s your humankind, who hates creatures like us, creatures who they cannot understand because of fear. My brothers and I already knew about what would happen to us regardless of what the outcome of this idiotic war is.” 

“Then why did you agree to this?” 

He was now completely still, the only sounds between the two of you were the quiet whistles of the wind on the hillsides, the fluttering of the leaves behind you. His eyes seemed as black as his hair in the darkness, glinting under the moonlight. His skin was so pale, his features highlighted in the shadows under the light and the darkness. He was a beautiful creature, it was easy to forget he was a vampire, just like you had forgotten during your discussion of Shakespeare. 

With a low voice, almost inaudible in the night, he replied.

“Because, like I said. Freedom doesn’t exist. We are immortal, therefore we cannot die, and cannot have freedom.” 

You returned to the manor a lot later than usual, but still returning to your room undetected. After changing into your nightgown and hiding your clothes and book into the box again, you laid in bed that night. 

He’d somehow made Holly come back, and watched as you mounted her and climbed on. You watched him from above, waiting for him to say something, but when he stayed silent, just watching you watch him. 

You broke the silence. “Will I be able to see you again?” 

Raising an eyebrow, he answered. “Girls like you shouldn’t be meeting with a man like me.” 

He smirked, “But yes. We shall meet again.” 

You nodded and turned away to go down the path that lead back to your home, when you realized he’d never specified a time nor a place. You turned Holly back to look back at him, but when you did, there was nothing. You whipped your head around to see where he’d disappeared to, but the clearing was empty, peaceful, as if no one had come at all. Only Holly’s footsteps had disturbed the peaceful grass. He was gone. 

You dreamt that night of white skin, midnight black hair, and the color of Romeo and Juliet’s blood staining the tomb. 

[araitsume]

Patriarchs and Prophets, pp. 581-591: Chapter (57) The Ark Taken by the Philistines

This chapter is based on 1 Samuel 3 to 7.

Another warning was to be given to Eli's house. God could not communicate with the high priest and his sons; their sins, like a thick cloud, had shut out the presence of His Holy Spirit. But in the midst of evil the child Samuel remained true to Heaven, and the message of condemnation to the house of Eli was Samuel's commission as a prophet of the Most High.

“The word of the Lord was precious in those days; there was no open vision. And it came to pass at that time, when Eli was laid down in his place, and his eyes began to wax dim, that he could not see; and ere the lamp of God went out in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was, and Samuel was laid down to sleep; that the Lord called Samuel.” Supposing the voice to be that of Eli, the child hastened to the bedside of the priest, saying, “Here am I; for thou calledst me.” The answer was, “I called not, my son; lie down again.” Three times Samuel was called, and thrice he responded in like manner. And then Eli was convinced that the mysterious call was the voice of God. The Lord had passed by His chosen servant, the man of hoary hairs, to commune with a child. This in itself was a bitter yet deserved rebuke to Eli and his house.

No feeling of envy or jealousy was awakened in Eli's heart. He directed Samuel to answer, if again called, “Speak, Lord; for Thy servant heareth.” Once more the voice was heard, and the child answered, “Speak; for Thy servant heareth.” So awed was he at the thought that the great God should speak to him that he could not remember the exact words which Eli bade him say.

“And the Lord said to Samuel, Behold, I will do a thing in Israel, at which both the ears of everyone that heareth it shall tingle. In that day I will perform against Eli all things which I have spoken concerning his house: when I begin, I will also make an end. For I have told him that I will judge his house forever for the iniquity which he knoweth; because his sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them not. And therefore I have sworn unto the house of Eli, that the iniquity of Eli's house shall not be purged with sacrifice nor offering forever.”

Before receiving this message from God, “Samuel did not yet know the Lord, neither was the word of the Lord yet revealed unto him;” that is, he was not acquainted with such direct manifestations of God's presence as were granted to the prophets. It was the Lord's purpose to reveal Himself in an unexpected manner, that Eli might hear of it through the surprise and inquiry of the youth.

Samuel was filled with fear and amazement at the thought of having so terrible a message committed to him. In the morning he went about his duties as usual, but with a heavy burden upon his young heart. The Lord had not commanded him to reveal the fearful denunciation, hence he remained silent, avoiding, as far as possible, the presence of Eli. He trembled, lest some question should compel him to declare the divine judgments against one whom he loved and reverenced. Eli was confident that the message foretold some great calamity to him and his house. He called Samuel, and charged him to relate faithfully what the Lord had revealed. The youth obeyed, and the aged man bowed in humble submission to the appalling sentence. “It is the Lord,” he said: “let Him do what seemeth Him good.”

Yet Eli did not manifest the fruits of true repentance. He confessed his guilt, but failed to renounce the sin. Year after year the Lord delayed His threatened judgments. Much might have been done in those years to redeem the failures of the past, but the aged priest took no effective measures to correct the evils that were polluting the sanctuary of the Lord and leading thousands in Israel to ruin. The forbearance of God caused Hophni and Phinehas to harden their hearts and to become still bolder in transgression. The messages of warning and reproof to his house were made known by Eli to the whole nation. By this means he hoped to counteract, in some measure, the evil influence of his past neglect. But the warnings were disregarded by the people, as they had been by the priests. The people of surrounding nations also, who were not ignorant of the iniquities openly practiced in Israel, became still bolder in their idolatry and crime. They felt no sense of guilt for their sins, as they would have felt had the Israelites preserved their integrity. But a day of retribution was approaching. God's authority had been set aside, and His worship neglected and despised, and it became necessary for Him to interpose, that the honor of His name might be maintained.

“Now Israel went out against the Philistines to battle, and pitched beside Ebenezer: and the Philistines pitched in Aphek.” This expedition was undertaken by the Israelites without counsel from God, without the concurrence of high priest or prophet. “And the Philistines put themselves in array against Israel: and when they joined battle, Israel was smitten before the Philistines: and they slew of the army in the field about four thousand men.” As the shattered and disheartened force returned to their encampment, “the elders of Israel said, Wherefore hath the Lord smitten us today before the Philistines?” The nation was ripe for the judgments of God, yet they did not see that their own sins had been the cause of this terrible disaster. And they said, “Let us fetch the ark of the covenant of the Lord out of Shiloh unto us, that, when it cometh among us, it may save us out of the hand of our enemies.” The Lord had given no command or permission that the ark should come into the army; yet the Israelites felt confident that victory would be theirs, and uttered a great shout when it was borne into the camp by the sons of Eli.

The Philistines looked upon the ark as the god of Israel. All the mighty works that Jehovah had wrought for His people were attributed to its power. As they heard the shouts of joy at its approach, they said, “What meaneth the noise of this great shout in the camp of the Hebrews? And they understood that the ark of the Lord was come into the camp. And the Philistines were afraid; for they said, God has come into the camp. And they said, Woe unto us! for there hath not been such a thing heretofore. Woe unto us! who shall deliver us out of the hand of these mighty Gods? These are the Gods that smote the Egyptians with all the plagues in the wilderness. Be strong, and quit yourselves like men, O ye Philistines, that ye be not servants unto the Hebrews, as they have been to you: quit yourselves like men, and fight.”

The Philistines made a fierce assault, which resulted in the defeat of Israel, with great slaughter. Thirty thousand men lay dead upon the field, and the ark of God was taken, the two sons of Eli having fallen while fighting to defend it. Thus again was left upon the page of history a testimony for all future ages—that the iniquity of God's professed people will not go unpunished. The greater the knowledge of God's will, the greater the sin of those who disregard it.

The most terrifying calamity that could occur had befallen Israel. The ark of God had been captured, and was in the possession of the enemy. The glory had indeed departed from Israel when the symbol of the abiding presence and power of Jehovah was removed from the midst of them. With this sacred chest were associated the most wonderful revelations of God's truth and power. In former days miraculous victories had been achieved whenever it appeared. It was shadowed by the wings of the golden cherubim, and the unspeakable glory of the Shekinah, the visible symbol of the most high God, had rested over it in the holy of holies. But now it had brought no victory. It had not proved a defense on this occasion, and there was mourning throughout Israel.

They had not realized that their faith was only a nominal faith, and had lost its power to prevail with God. The law of God, contained in the ark, was also a symbol of His presence; but they had cast contempt upon the commandments, had despised their requirements, and had grieved the Spirit of the Lord from among them. When the people obeyed the holy precepts, the Lord was with them to work for them by His infinite power; but when they looked upon the ark, and did not associate it with God, nor honor His revealed will by obedience to His law, it could avail them little more than a common box. They looked to the ark as the idolatrous nations looked to their gods, as if it possessed in itself the elements of power and salvation. They transgressed the law it contained; for their very worship of the ark led to formalism, hypocrisy, and idolatry. Their sin had separated them from God, and He could not give them the victory until they had repented of and forsaken their iniquity.

It was not enough that the ark and the sanctuary were in the midst of Israel. It was not enough that the priests offered sacrifices, and that the people were called the children of God. The Lord does not regard the request of those who cherish iniquity in the heart; it is written that “he that turneth away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer shall be abomination.” Proverbs 28:9.

When the army went out to battle, Eli, blind and old, had tarried at Shiloh. It was with troubled forebodings that he awaited the result of the conflict; “for his heart trembled for the ark of God.” Taking his position outside the gate of the tabernacle, he sat by the highway side day after day, anxiously expecting the arrival of a messenger from the battlefield.

At length a Benjamite from the army, “with his clothes rent, and with earth upon his head,” came hurrying up the ascent leading to the city. Passing heedlessly the aged man beside the way, he rushed on to the town, and repeated to eager throngs the tidings of defeat and loss.

The sound of wailing and lamentation reached the watcher beside the tabernacle. The messenger was brought to him. And the man said unto Eli, “Israel is fled before the Philistines, and there hath been also a great slaughter among the people, and thy two sons also, Hophni and Phinehas, are dead.” Eli could endure all this, terrible as it was, for he had expected it. But when the messenger added, “And the ark of God is taken,” a look of unutterable anguish passed over his countenance. The thought that his sin had thus dishonored God and caused Him to withdraw His presence from Israel was more than he could bear; his strength was gone, he fell, “and his neck brake, and he died.”

The wife of Phinehas, notwithstanding the impiety of her husband, was a woman who feared the Lord. The death of her father-in-law and her husband, and above all, the terrible tidings that the ark of God was taken, caused her death. She felt that the last hope of Israel was gone; and she named the child born in this hour of adversity, Ichabod, or “inglorious;” with her dying breath mournfully repeating the words, “The glory is departed from Israel: for the ark of God is taken.”

But the Lord had not wholly cast aside His people, nor would He long suffer the exultation of the heathen. He had used the Philistines as the instrument to punish Israel, and He employed the ark to punish the Philistines. In time past the divine Presence had attended it, to be the strength and glory of His obedient people. That invisible Presence would still attend it, to bring terror and destruction to the transgressors of His holy law. The Lord often employs His bitterest enemies to punish the unfaithfulness of His professed people. The wicked may triumph for a time as they see Israel suffering chastisement, but the time will come when they, too, must meet the sentence of a holy, sin-hating God. Whenever iniquity is cherished, there, swift and unerring, the divine judgments will follow.

The Philistines removed the ark in triumph to Ashdod, one of their five principal cities, and placed it in the house of their god Dagon. They imagined that the power which had hitherto attended the ark would be theirs, and that this, united with the power of Dagon, would render them invincible. But upon entering the temple on the following day, they beheld a sight which filled them with consternation. Dagon had fallen upon his face to the earth before the ark of Jehovah. The priests reverently lifted the idol and restored it to its place. But the next morning they found it, strangely mutilated, again lying upon the earth before the ark. The upper part of this idol was like that of a man, and the lower part was in the likeness of a fish. Now every part that resembled the human form had been cut off, and only the body of the fish remained. Priests and people were horror-struck; they looked upon this mysterious event as an evil omen, foreboding destruction to themselves and their idols before the God of the Hebrews. They now removed the ark from their temple and placed it in a building by itself.

The inhabitants of Ashdod were smitten with a distressing and fatal disease. Remembering the plagues that were inflicted upon Egypt by the God of Israel, the people attributed their afflictions to the presence of the ark among them. It was decided to convey it to Gath. But the plague followed close upon its removal, and the men of that city sent it to Ekron. Here the people received it with terror, crying, “They have brought about the ark of the God of Israel to us, to slay us and our people.” They turned to their gods for protection, as the people of Gath and Ashdod had done; but the work of the destroyer went on, until, in their distress, “the cry of the city went up to heaven.” Fearing longer to retain the ark among the homes of men, the people next placed it in the open field. There followed a plague of mice, which infested the land, destroying the products of the soil, both in the storehouse and in the field. Utter destruction, by disease or famine, now threatened the nation.

For seven months the ark remained in Philistia, and during all this time the Israelites made no effort for its recovery. But the Philistines were now as anxious to free themselves from its presence as they had been to obtain it. Instead of being a source of strength to them, it was a great burden and a heavy curse. Yet they knew not what course to pursue; for wherever it went the judgments of God followed. The people called for the princes of the nation, with the priests and diviners, and eagerly inquired, “What shall we do to the ark of Jehovah? tell us wherewith we shall send it to his place?” They were advised to return it with a costly trespass offering. “Then,” said the priests, “ye shall be healed, and it shall be known to you why His hand is not removed from you.”

To ward off or to remove a plague, it was anciently the custom among the heathen to make an image in gold, silver, or other material, of that which caused the destruction, or of the object or part of the body specially affected. This was set up on a pillar or in some conspicuous place, and was supposed to be an effectual protection against the evils thus represented. A similar practice still exists among some heathen peoples. When a person suffering from disease goes for cure to the temple of his idol, he carries with him a figure of the part affected, which he presents as an offering to his god.

It was in accordance with the prevailing superstition that the Philistine lords directed the people to make representations of the plagues by which they had been afflicted—“five golden emerods, and five golden mice, according to the number of the lords of the Philistines: for,” said they, “one plague was on you all, and on your lords.”

These wise men acknowledged a mysterious power accompanying the ark—a power which they had no wisdom to meet. Yet they did not counsel the people to turn from their idolatry to serve the Lord. They still hated the God of Israel, though compelled by overwhelming judgments to submit to His authority. Thus sinners may be convinced by the judgments of God that it is in vain to contend against Him. They may be compelled to submit to His power, while at heart they rebel against His control. Such submission cannot save the sinner. The heart must be yielded to God—must be subdued by divine grace—before man's repentance can be accepted.

How great is the long-suffering of God toward the wicked! The idolatrous Philistines and backsliding Israel had alike enjoyed the gifts of His providence. Ten thousand unnoticed mercies were silently falling in the pathway of ungrateful, rebellious men. Every blessing spoke to them of the Giver, but they were indifferent to His love. The forbearance of God was very great toward the children of men; but when they stubbornly persisted in their impenitence, He removed from them His protecting hand. They refused to listen to the voice of God in His created works, and in the warnings, counsels, and reproofs of His word, and thus He was forced to speak to them through judgments.

There were some among the Philistines who stood ready to oppose the return of the ark to its own land. Such an acknowledgment of the power of Israel's God would be humiliating to the pride of Philistia. But “the priests and the diviners” admonished the people not to imitate the stubbornness of Pharaoh and the Egyptians, and thus bring upon themselves still greater afflictions. A plan which won the consent of all was now proposed, and immediately put in execution. The ark, with the golden trespass offering, was placed upon a new cart, thus precluding all danger of defilement; to this cart, or car, were attached two kine upon whose necks a yoke had never been placed. Their calves were shut up at home, and the cows were left free to go where they pleased. If the ark should thus be returned to the Israelites by the way of Beth-shemesh, the nearest city of the Levites, the Philistines would accept this as evidence that the God of Israel had done unto them this great evil; “but if not,” they said, “then we shall know that it is not His hand that smote us; it was a chance that happened to us.”

On being set free, the kine turned from their young and, lowing as they went, took the direct road to Beth-shemesh. Guided by no human hand, the patient animals kept on their way. The divine Presence accompanied the ark, and it passed on safely to the very place designated.

It was now the time of wheat harvest, and the men of Beth-shemesh were reaping in the valley. “And they lifted up their eyes, and saw the ark, and rejoiced to see it. And the cart came into the field of Joshua, a Beth-shemite, and stood there, where there was a great stone: and they clave the wood of the cart, and offered the kine of burnt-offering unto the Lord.” The lords of the Philistines, who had followed the ark “unto the border of Beth-shemesh,” and had witnessed its reception, now returned to Ekron. The plague had ceased, and they were convinced that their calamities had been a judgment from the God of Israel.

The men of Beth-shemesh quickly spread the tidings that the ark was in their possession, and the people from the surrounding country flocked to welcome its return. The ark had been placed upon the stone that first served for an altar, and before it additional sacrifices were offered unto the Lord. Had the worshipers repented of their sins, God's blessing would have attended them. But they were not faithfully obeying His law; and while they rejoiced at the return of the ark as a harbinger of good, they had no true sense of its sacredness. Instead of preparing a suitable place for its reception, they permitted it to remain in the harvest field. As they continued to gaze upon the sacred chest and to talk of the wonderful manner in which it had been restored, they began to conjecture wherein lay its peculiar power. At last, overcome by curiosity, they removed the coverings and ventured to open it.

All Israel had been taught to regard the ark with awe and reverence. When required to remove it from place to place the Levites were not so much as to look upon it. Only once a year was the high priest permitted to behold the ark of God. Even the heathen Philistines had not dared to remove its coverings. Angels of heaven, unseen, ever attended it in all its journeyings. The irreverent daring of the people at Beth-shemesh was speedily punished. Many were smitten with sudden death.

The survivors were not led by this judgment to repent of their sin, but only to regard the ark with superstitious fear. Eager to be free from its presence, yet not daring to remove it, the Beth-shemites sent a message to the inhabitants of Kirjath-jearim, inviting them to take it away. With great joy the men of this place welcomed the sacred chest. They knew that it was the pledge of divine favor to the obedient and faithful. With solemn gladness they brought it to their city and placed it in the house of Abinadab, a Levite. This man appointed his son Eleazar to take charge of it, and it remained there for many years.

During the years since the Lord first manifested Himself to the son of Hannah, Samuel's call to the prophetic office had come to be acknowledged by the whole nation. By faithfully delivering the divine warning to the house of Eli, painful and trying as the duty had been, Samuel had given proof of his fidelity as Jehovah's messenger; “and the Lord was with him, and did let none of his words fall to the ground. And all Israel from Dan even to Beersheba knew that Samuel was established to be a prophet of the Lord.”

The Israelites as a nation still continued in a state of irreligion and idolatry, and as a punishment they remained in subjection to the Philistines. During this time Samuel visited the cities and villages throughout the land, seeking to turn the hearts of the people to the God of their fathers; and his efforts were not without good results. After suffering the oppression of their enemies for twenty years, the Israelites “mourned after the Lord.” Samuel counseled them, “If ye do return unto the Lord with all your hearts, then put away the strange gods and Ashtaroth from among you, and prepare your hearts unto the Lord, and serve Him only.” Here we see that practical piety, heart religion, was taught in the days of Samuel as taught by Christ when He was upon the earth. Without the grace of Christ the outward forms of religion were valueless to ancient Israel. They are the same to modern Israel.

There is need today of such a revival of true heart religion as was experienced by ancient Israel. Repentance is the first step that must be taken by all who would return to God. No one can do this work for another. We must individually humble our souls before God and put away our idols. When we have done all that we can do, the Lord will manifest to us His salvation.

With the co-operation of the heads of the tribes, a large assembly was gathered at Mizpeh. Here a solemn fast was held. With deep humiliation the people confessed their sins; and as an evidence of their determination to obey the instructions they had heard, they invested Samuel with the authority of judge.

The Philistines interpreted this gathering to be a council of war, and with a strong force set out to disperse the Israelites before their plans could be matured. The tidings of their approach caused great terror in Israel. The people entreated Samuel, “Cease not to cry unto the Lord our God for us, that He will save us out of the hand of the Philistines.”

While Samuel was in the act of presenting a lamb as a burnt offering, the Philistines drew near for battle. Then the Mighty One who had descended upon Sinai amid fire and smoke and thunder, who had parted the Red Sea and made a way through Jordan for the children of Israel, again manifested His power. A terrible storm burst upon the advancing host, and the earth was strewn with the dead bodies of mighty warriors.

The Israelites had stood in silent awe, trembling with hope and fear. When they beheld the slaughter of their enemies, they knew that God had accepted their repentance. Though unprepared for battle, they seized the weapons of the slaughtered Philistines and pursued the fleeing host to Beth-car. This signal victory was gained upon the very field where, twenty years before, Israel had been smitten before the Philistines, the priests slain, and the ark of God taken. For nations as well as for individuals, the path of obedience to God is the path of safety and happiness, while that of transgression leads only to disaster and defeat. The Philistines were now so completely subdued that they surrendered the strongholds which had been taken from Israel and refrained from acts of hostility for many years. Other nations followed this example, and the Israelites enjoyed peace until the close of Samuel's sole administration.

That the occasion might never be forgotten, Samuel set up, between Mizpeh and Shen, a great stone as a memorial. He called the name of it Ebenezer, “the stone of help,” saying to the people, “hitherto hath Jehovah helped us.”

[weareplanarchampion]

“Dolores (Notre-Dame des Sept Douleurs)”

Below is the text of “Dolores (Notre-Dame des Sept Douleurs)” by Algernon Charles Swinburne, which served as the inspiration for the one and only Lady of Pain. Though Our Lady is not nearly as sensual as the subject of the poem, the influence remains. 

Anyway:

Cold eyelids that hide like a jewel      Hard eyes that grow soft for an hour; The heavy white limbs, and the cruel      Red mouth like a venomous flower; When these are gone by with their glories,      What shall rest of thee then, what remain, O mystic and sombre Dolores,      Our Lady of Pain? Seven sorrows the priests give their Virgin;      But thy sins, which are seventy times seven, Seven ages would fail thee to purge in,      And then they would haunt thee in heaven: Fierce midnights and famishing morrows,      And the loves that complete and control All the joys of the flesh, all the sorrows      That wear out the soul. O garment not golden but gilded,      O garden where all men may dwell, O tower not of ivory, but builded      By hands that reach heaven from hell; O mystical rose of the mire,      O house not of gold but of gain, O house of unquenchable fire,      Our Lady of Pain! O lips full of lust and of laughter,      Curled snakes that are fed from my breast, Bite hard, lest remembrance come after      And press with new lips where you pressed. For my heart too springs up at the pressure,      Mine eyelids too moisten and burn; Ah, feed me and fill me with pleasure,      Ere pain come in turn. In yesterday's reach and to-morrow's,      Out of sight though they lie of to-day, There have been and there yet shall be sorrows      That smite not and bite not in play. The life and the love thou despisest,      These hurt us indeed, and in vain, O wise among women, and wisest,      Our Lady of Pain. Who gave thee thy wisdom? what stories      That stung thee, what visions that smote? Wert thou pure and a maiden, Dolores,      When desire took thee first by the throat? What bud was the shell of a blossom      That all men may smell to and pluck? What milk fed thee first at what bosom?      What sins gave thee suck? We shift and bedeck and bedrape us,      Thou art noble and nude and antique; Libitina thy mother, Priapus      Thy father, a Tuscan and Greek. We play with light loves in the portal,      And wince and relent and refrain; Loves die, and we know thee immortal,      Our Lady of Pain. Fruits fail and love dies and time ranges;      Thou art fed with perpetual breath, And alive after infinite changes,      And fresh from the kisses of death; Of languors rekindled and rallied,      Of barren delights and unclean, Things monstrous and fruitless, a pallid      And poisonous queen. Could you hurt me, sweet lips, though I hurt you?      Men touch them, and change in a trice The lilies and languors of virtue      For the raptures and roses of vice; Those lie where thy foot on the floor is,      These crown and caress thee and chain, O splendid and sterile Dolores,      Our Lady of Pain. There are sins it may be to discover,      There are deeds it may be to delight. What new work wilt thou find for thy lover,      What new passions for daytime or night? What spells that they know not a word of      Whose lives are as leaves overblown? What tortures undreamt of, unheard of,      Unwritten, unknown? Ah beautiful passionate body      That never has ached with a heart! On thy mouth though the kisses are bloody,      Though they sting till it shudder and smart, More kind than the love we adore is,      They hurt not the heart or the brain, O bitter and tender Dolores,      Our Lady of Pain. As our kisses relax and redouble,      From the lips and the foam and the fangs Shall no new sin be born for men's trouble,      No dream of impossible pangs? With the sweet of the sins of old ages      Wilt thou satiate thy soul as of yore? Too sweet is the rind, say the sages,      Too bitter the core. Hast thou told all thy secrets the last time,      And bared all thy beauties to one? Ah, where shall we go then for pastime,      If the worst that can be has been done? But sweet as the rind was the core is;      We are fain of thee still, we are fain, O sanguine and subtle Dolores,      Our Lady of Pain. By the hunger of change and emotion,      By the thirst of unbearable things, By despair, the twin-born of devotion,      By the pleasure that winces and stings, The delight that consumes the desire,      The desire that outruns the delight, By the cruelty deaf as a fire      And blind as the night, By the ravenous teeth that have smitten      Through the kisses that blossom and bud, By the lips intertwisted and bitten      Till the foam has a savour of blood, By the pulse as it rises and falters,      By the hands as they slacken and strain, I adjure thee, respond from thine altars,      Our Lady of Pain. Wilt thou smile as a woman disdaining      The light fire in the veins of a boy? But he comes to thee sad, without feigning,      Who has wearied of sorrow and joy; Less careful of labour and glory      Than the elders whose hair has uncurled: And young, but with fancies as hoary      And grey as the world. I have passed from the outermost portal      To the shrine where a sin is a prayer; What care though the service be mortal?      O our Lady of Torture, what care? All thine the last wine that I pour is,      The last in the chalice we drain, O fierce and luxurious Dolores,      Our Lady of Pain. All thine the new wine of desire,      The fruit of four lips as they clung Till the hair and the eyelids took fire,      The foam of a serpentine tongue, The froth of the serpents of pleasure,      More salt than the foam of the sea, Now felt as a flame, now at leisure      As wine shed for me. Ah thy people, thy children, thy chosen,      Marked cross from the womb and perverse! They have found out the secret to cozen      The gods that constrain us and curse; They alone, they are wise, and none other;      Give me place, even me, in their train, O my sister, my spouse, and my mother,      Our Lady of Pain. For the crown of our life as it closes      Is darkness, the fruit thereof dust; No thorns go as deep as a rose's,      And love is more cruel than lust. Time turns the old days to derision,      Our loves into corpses or wives; And marriage and death and division      Make barren our lives. And pale from the past we draw nigh thee,      And satiate with comfortless hours; And we know thee, how all men belie thee,      And we gather the fruit of thy flowers; The passion that slays and recovers,      The pangs and the kisses that rain On the lips and the limbs of thy lovers,      Our Lady of Pain. The desire of thy furious embraces      Is more than the wisdom of years, On the blossom though blood lie in traces,      Though the foliage be sodden with tears. For the lords in whose keeping the door is      That opens on all who draw breath Gave the cypress to love, my Dolores,      The myrtle to death. And they laughed, changing hands in the measure,      And they mixed and made peace after strife; Pain melted in tears, and was pleasure;      Death tingled with blood, and was life. Like lovers they melted and tingled,      In the dusk of thine innermost fane; In the darkness they murmured and mingled,      Our Lady of Pain. In a twilight where virtues are vices,      In thy chapels, unknown of the sun, To a tune that enthralls and entices,      They were wed, and the twain were as one. For the tune from thine altar hath sounded      Since God bade the world's work begin, And the fume of thine incense abounded,      To sweeten the sin. Love listens, and paler than ashes,      Through his curls as the crown on them slips, Lifts languid wet eyelids and lashes,      And laughs with insatiable lips. Thou shalt hush him with heavy caresses,      With music that scares the profane; Thou shalt darken his eyes with thy tresses,      Our Lady of Pain. Thou shalt blind his bright eyes though he wrestle,      Thou shalt chain his light limbs though he strive; In his lips all thy serpents shall nestle,      In his hands all thy cruelties thrive. In the daytime thy voice shall go through him,      In his dreams he shall feel thee and ache; Thou shalt kindle by night and subdue him      Asleep and awake. Thou shalt touch and make redder his roses      With juice not of fruit nor of bud; When the sense in the spirit reposes,      Thou shalt quicken the soul through the blood. Thine, thine the one grace we implore is,      Who would live and not languish or feign, O sleepless and deadly Dolores,      Our Lady of Pain. Dost thou dream, in a respite of slumber,      In a lull of the fires of thy life, Of the days without name, without number,      When thy will stung the world into strife; When, a goddess, the pulse of thy passion      Smote kings as they revelled in Rome; And they hailed thee re-risen, O Thalassian,      Foam-white, from the foam? When thy lips had such lovers to flatter;      When the city lay red from thy rods, And thine hands were as arrows to scatter      The children of change and their gods; When the blood of thy foemen made fervent      A sand never moist from the main, As one smote them, their lord and thy servant,      Our Lady of Pain. On sands by the storm never shaken,      Nor wet from the washing of tides; Nor by foam of the waves overtaken,      Nor winds that the thunder bestrides; But red from the print of thy paces,      Made smooth for the world and its lords, Ringed round with a flame of fair faces,      And splendid with swords. There the gladiator, pale for thy pleasure,      Drew bitter and perilous breath; There torments laid hold on the treasure      Of limbs too delicious for death; When thy gardens were lit with live torches;      When the world was a steed for thy rein; When the nations lay prone in thy porches,      Our Lady of Pain. When, with flame all around him aspirant,      Stood flushed, as a harp-player stands, The implacable beautiful tyrant,      Rose-crowned, having death in his hands; And a sound as the sound of loud water      Smote far through the flight of the fires, And mixed with the lightning of slaughter      A thunder of lyres. Dost thou dream of what was and no more is,      The old kingdoms of earth and the kings? Dost thou hunger for these things, Dolores,      For these, in a world of new things? But thy bosom no fasts could emaciate,      No hunger compel to complain Those lips that no bloodshed could satiate,      Our Lady of Pain. As of old when the world's heart was lighter,      Through thy garments the grace of thee glows, The white wealth of thy body made whiter      By the blushes of amorous blows, And seamed with sharp lips and fierce fingers,      And branded by kisses that bruise; When all shall be gone that now lingers,      Ah, what shall we lose? Thou wert fair in the fearless old fashion,      And thy limbs are as melodies yet, And move to the music of passion      With lithe and lascivious regret. What ailed us, O gods, to desert you      For creeds that refuse and restrain? Come down and redeem us from virtue,      Our Lady of Pain. All shrines that were Vestal are flameless,      But the flame has not fallen from this; Though obscure be the god, and though nameless      The eyes and the hair that we kiss; Low fires that love sits by and forges      Fresh heads for his arrows and thine; Hair loosened and soiled in mid orgies      With kisses and wine. Thy skin changes country and colour,      And shrivels or swells to a snake's. Let it brighten and bloat and grow duller,      We know it, the flames and the flakes, Red brands on it smitten and bitten,      Round skies where a star is a stain, And the leaves with thy litanies written,      Our Lady of Pain. On thy bosom though many a kiss be,      There are none such as knew it of old. Was it Alciphron once or Arisbe,      Male ringlets or feminine gold, That thy lips met with under the statue,      Whence a look shot out sharp after thieves From the eyes of the garden-god at you      Across the fig-leaves? Then still, through dry seasons and moister,      One god had a wreath to his shrine; Then love was the pearl of his oyster,      And Venus rose red out of wine. We have all done amiss, choosing rather      Such loves as the wise gods disdain; Intercede for us thou with thy father,      Our Lady of Pain. In spring he had crowns of his garden,      Red corn in the heat of the year, Then hoary green olives that harden      When the grape-blossom freezes with fear; And milk-budded myrtles with Venus      And vine-leaves with Bacchus he trod; And ye said, "We have seen, he hath seen us,      A visible God." What broke off the garlands that girt you?      What sundered you spirit and clay? Weak sins yet alive are as virtue      To the strength of the sins of that day. For dried is the blood of thy lover,      Ipsithilla, contracted the vein; Cry aloud, "Will he rise and recover,      Our Lady of Pain?" Cry aloud; for the old world is broken:      Cry out; for the Phrygian is priest, And rears not the bountiful token      And spreads not the fatherly feast. From the midmost of Ida, from shady      Recesses that murmur at morn, They have brought and baptized her, Our Lady,      A goddess new-born. And the chaplets of old are above us,      And the oyster-bed teems out of reach; Old poets outsing and outlove us,      And Catullus makes mouths at our speech. Who shall kiss, in thy father's own city,      With such lips as he sang with, again? Intercede for us all of thy pity,      Our Lady of Pain. Out of Dindymus heavily laden      Her lions draw bound and unfed A mother, a mortal, a maiden,      A queen over death and the dead. She is cold, and her habit is lowly,      Her temple of branches and sods; Most fruitful and virginal, holy,      A mother of gods. She hath wasted with fire thine high places,      She hath hidden and marred and made sad The fair limbs of the Loves, the fair faces      Of gods that were goodly and glad. She slays, and her hands are not bloody;      She moves as a moon in the wane, White-robed, and thy raiment is ruddy,      Our Lady of Pain. They shall pass and their places be taken,      The gods and the priests that are pure. They shall pass, and shalt thou not be shaken?      They shall perish, and shalt thou endure? Death laughs, breathing close and relentless      In the nostrils and eyelids of lust, With a pinch in his fingers of scentless      And delicate dust. But the worm shall revive thee with kisses;      Thou shalt change and transmute as a god, As the rod to a serpent that hisses,      As the serpent again to a rod. Thy life shall not cease though thou doff it;      Thou shalt live until evil be slain, And good shall die first, said thy prophet,      Our Lady of Pain. Did he lie? did he laugh? does he know it,      Now he lies out of reach, out of breath, Thy prophet, thy preacher, thy poet,      Sin's child by incestuous Death? Did he find out in fire at his waking,      Or discern as his eyelids lost light, When the bands of the body were breaking      And all came in sight? Who has known all the evil before us,      Or the tyrannous secrets of time? Though we match not the dead men that bore us      At a song, at a kiss, at a crime — Though the heathen outface and outlive us,      And our lives and our longings are twain — Ah, forgive us our virtues, forgive us,      Our Lady of Pain. Who are we that embalm and embrace thee      With spices and savours of song? What is time, that his children should face thee?      What am I, that my lips do thee wrong? I could hurt thee — but pain would delight thee;      Or caress thee — but love would repel; And the lovers whose lips would excite thee      Are serpents in hell. Who now shall content thee as they did,      Thy lovers, when temples were built And the hair of the sacrifice braided      And the blood of the sacrifice spilt, In Lampsacus fervent with faces,      In Aphaca red from thy reign, Who embraced thee with awful embraces,      Our Lady of Pain? Where are they, Cotytto or Venus,      Astarte or Ashtaroth, where? Do their hands as we touch come between us?      Is the breath of them hot in thy hair? From their lips have thy lips taken fever,      With the blood of their bodies grown red? Hast thou left upon earth a believer      If these men are dead? They were purple of raiment and golden,      Filled full of thee, fiery with wine, Thy lovers, in haunts unbeholden,      In marvellous chambers of thine. They are fled, and their footprints escape us,      Who appraise thee, adore, and abstain, O daughter of Death and Priapus,      Our Lady of Pain. What ails us to fear overmeasure,      To praise thee with timorous breath, O mistress and mother of pleasure,      The one thing as certain as death? We shall change as the things that we cherish,      Shall fade as they faded before, As foam upon water shall perish,      As sand upon shore. We shall know what the darkness discovers,      If the grave-pit be shallow or deep; And our fathers of old, and our lovers,      We shall know if they sleep not or sleep. We shall see whether hell be not heaven,      Find out whether tares be not grain, And the joys of thee seventy times seven,      Our Lady of Pain.

[examinationsoffrankenstein-blog]

A Lost Brother

We then see another case of avoidance-avoidance conflict a bit later in the story. This one occurs when Victor comes to the conclusion that the Creature most likely ended the life of William, Victor’s brother. Nobody knows the truth of what happened except for Victor. “This speech calmed me. I was firmly convinced in my own mind that Justine, and indeed every human being, was guiltless of this murder. I had no fear, therefore, that any circumstantial evidence could be brought forward strong enough to convict her. My tale was not one to announce publicly; its astounding horror would be looked upon as madness by the vulgar. Did any one indeed exist, except I, the creator, who would believe, unless his senses convinced him, in the existence of the living monument of presumption and rash ignorance which I had let loose upon the world? (Shelley, 82)” Here we see that Victor is faced with two very difficult ways in which he could go with this situation. He could either explain himself and take responsibility for his creation, or let Justine take the consequences that Victor deserves. Spoiler alert: Victor takes the low and cowardly road and lets Justine falsely confess. In order to distract himself from the guilt and inner conflict he faces after the execution, Victor flees to the mountains in nature, which is his only safe place. “A tingling long-lost sense of pleasure often came across me during this journey. Some turn in the road, some new object suddenly perceived and recognized, reminded me of days gone by, and were associated with the lighthearted gaiety of boyhood. The very winds whispered in soothing accents, and maternal Nature bade me weep no more (Shelley, 90).” Victor utilizes nature as a way to avoid and cleanse him of the struggles he has been faced with.