#my sister and i have lived a life wilder than fiction

[lalalychee]

cw for talk of suicide, abuse, domestic violence, parental death, and addiction.

i am prefacing this by stating that i am safe, so please for the love of god don't call the police on me for a welfare check. these are thoughts that i have wanted to say for a long time, so please let me say them. again, i am safe.

the tl;dr version of this very long post is that it doesn't always get better, and i wish people would stop saying that it universally does. actually it sometimes permanently gets worse.

the thing that sucks about being in therapy for being suicidal is that so much emphasis is put on retraining your brain to know that you are worthwhile and that you deserve to live. i don't have that problem. i love and value myself so much. i know i am worthwhile and deserve to be loved. i know i am deserving of a good life.

the issue is that a good life is not what i have been given, nor will things change for the better. people love to tell you that it gets better, but in reality that isn't true for everyone.

many of the people in my life met me after i had become disabled, and even people who knew me before then don't necessarily know about the kind of life i came from. i was abused for over 26 years. my parents were addicts, and audrey (my little sister) and i were subjected to so many different kinds of abuse growing up that i've never successfully managed to tell one person the full extent of it. the briefest summary i can give is snippets from it all:

one of my earliest memories is having a phone ripped out of my hand and thrown at me when i tried to call the police on our dad because our mom was on the floor sobbing and bleeding after he'd hit her. i had to clean the blood off our mom's face while we hid in the bathroom.

when i was ten, i was in a car accident because my mom was drunk and fucked up on narcotics while driving, and she passed out at the wheel. i was on the side that crashed. i cannot think of a time when either of our parents were sober while driving throughout our entire childhood; they started drinking at 6am every day.

when i was twelve, shortly after our oldest sister passed away from lupus, our father's abuse toward our mom had gotten severe enough that, after years and years of us begging her to file for a divorce, she finally did. we had to hide in a women's shelter for weeks because he stalked us. he called our mother over 60 times a day, sometimes well over a hundred.

when i was thirteen, our mother got addicted to crack and became less and less present in our lives even though she had full custody of us. over time, she stopped buying groceries, stopped buying daily necessities, and eventually stopped coming home all together. by the time i was fifteen, i was taking care of audrey (who was twelve at the time) entirely on my own. we stole food to survive. we were so poor that we did not have access to even the most basic things like clean clothes or feminine hygeine products. eventually someone reported our mother to the police and she was charged with child abandonment. we were sent to live with our father, the very man who we had fled from just a few years prior.

our mom eventually went to rehab and we reconnected on my sixteenth birthday. i asked her when she was going to try to get custody of us again, and she said she didn't want to. this meant she would rather us live with our abuser than take responsibility for the children she forced into a life we never asked for.

she became sick with breast cancer for a second time (the first being when i was ten), and she died just after my seventeeth birthday.

the abuse we suffered from our father is not something i have yet found the ability to describe. what i can say is that he had so much control over every move i made that i became completely isolated. i went to school, and eventually work as well (although he barely allowed that), but that was it. i could not so much as go to the mailbox without him knowing where i was going, even long after i was a legal adult. we did not manage to escape his household until i was 26 years old.

when i was 26, audrey and i moved out together, and our father continued his habit of stalking women by stalking us relentlessly, even when we obtained restraining order after restraining order.

after years of being arrested for restraining order violations, he has fortunately made less and less attempts to get to us, but to this day i have nightmares about him almost every night. i fear i will not be free from the terror he has scarred me with even once he has died.

this is the kind of life i lived before my accident. these are the kinds of wounds i already was bleeding from day in and day out, trying so hard to recover from. and after all of that, a freak accident at 30 completely ruined any hope i had of ever living some semblance of a normal life. i degloved my knee, an injury that's every bit as horrible as it sounds. from that injury i developed stage 3 CRPS, a permanent neurological condition that is considered the most painful chronic pain condition known. a CRPS flare-up is more painful than childbirth, and no that is not an exaggeration. there is no cure, and treatments are limited and often only work temporarily, if that. even amputation generally does not make the pain stop. i cannot walk without a mobility aid (and excrutiating pain), and it is likely that i will one day lose my ability to walk entirely.

statistically speaking, it's not surprising that i ended up disabled. abuse survivors are more likely to become disabled for an array of reasons. but as a lived experience, it's surprising every single day. i survived years and years of abuse for this? this is my big reward for enduring, enduring, enduring? life will of course always come with hardships, but to me there is a drastic difference between average life hardships versus becoming crippled at 30 with pain i cannot be free from even if i cut my fucking leg off.

i love and value myself. i truly do. and in fact i value myself enough to know i deserve better than the life i have--a life of constant pain with no hope of reprieve.

i am often told to keep going out of spite, if nothing else. i have no spite. i am not angry. i am not bitter. my spite vacated me aeons ago, and in its place all i have is marrow-deep exhaustion.

of course i know that i am loved and that i would be missed. but if a dog is in a condition that has robbed them of what we consider to be a suitable quality of life, we allow the dog to die, even if we will miss the dog so much it feels like we'll never heal from it.

if we are doing something that hurts us, and it keeps hurting us, and even if we try to go about it a different way it still hurts us, we stop doing it.

this is where i find myself. this is why, even after all my years of therapy, i cannot shake the all-consuming thought that i so desperately want to die.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hiya! Do you know of any good rpgs for fiction in the Sword and Sandal genre, or really anything that would fit a largely-historical game set in the ancient to late antique Middle East?

Thanks for everything you do!

THEME: Sword and Sandal

Hello Friend, I don’t think I found anything here that meets what you’re looking for exactly, but I think there are a few things here that are in the same neighbourhood of what you’re looking for. I’ve found a few Bronze-Age and Mesopotamian games that might interest you, as well as a setting in Ancient Egypt!

I know that there’s not a lot here that is likely to hit the mark that you were looking for, so I’m also hoping that folks who see this will add their own suggestions in the comments and reblogs!

Champions of Osiris, by Zadmar Games.

“King Osiris and Queen Isis once ruled ancient Egypt—until Set murdered his brother and usurped the throne. Isis was a powerful sorceress who used her powers to escape, but Set chopped his rival into dozens of pieces and scattered them across the land, preventing his resurrection.

With the aid of her sister Nephthys, Isis recovered the remains of her husband’s loyal bodyguards and retainers, imbuing their spirits with potent sorcery and granting them immortality. These fierce heroes began the formidable task of seeking out and gathering the lost pieces of their king’s corpse.

You are the “immortal champions.” You once swore to guard your king’s life with your own—and you did! Now you’ve sworn another oath: to destroy Set’s legacy and restore Osiris to the throne.”

The Tricube Tales System is a genre-neutral rules set that is meant to be easy to learn and great for short games. The designer has created countless scenarios for this system, with Champions of Osiris being one of them. Players receive karma tokens, which they can use to increase their chances of success, and gain by increasing their chances of failure. They also have a resolve track, which erodes with each failure, potentially removing a player from the scene if they aren’t careful.

This is definitely not a historical game, but it’s probably the closest to the “Middle East” inspiration that I was able to find during my search.

Into the Bronze, by Lantern’s Faun.

Into the Bronze is a RPG of sword, sorcery and sandals in Mesopotamia from the Bronze era.

The plains between the Tigris and Ephrates rivers hide silent, gloomy valleys where demons and lesser gods devise their evil plans. Defy the gods of Sumeria, behold the beginning of civilization.

This is a rule-set, but it doesn’t have much in terms of lore, which may be good if you have the kind of world you want to play in already in your head, but just need a framework in terms of player skills and dice resolution. Into the Bronze is inspired by Into the Odd, by Chris McDowell, renowned for its flexibility and simplicity. I think it would be very easy to take characters built in this world and then put them into a world like that of Undying Sands, which isn’t a game in itself but provides you with plenty of locations, encounters, and characters to fight, barter, and conspire with.

Fragments of the Past, by Dev9k.

Fragments of the Past is a rules-light roleplaying game set in a Bronze-Age world evoking the atmosphere of ancient tales and poems of the archaic Mediterranean, where conflicts are resolved on a roll of a d10 or a d100. 

Experience the great tragedies, deeds, and ambitions of larger-than-life characters, dwelling in a world of sacred places and untamed wilderness. Pray and live according to the ancient customs of long-forgotten civilizations, if you dare. 

Fragments of the Past is meant to emulate mythic and tragic stories from a world that could have been, a world with references to ancient mediterranean cultures, but its locations and peoples are uniquely named. This is a world where the Gods’ wills have visible effects on the world around them: this is most visible in Talismans - relics that became powerful because of their place in great stories and actions of heroes.

This is a game designed for long-form play. Your characters are built from a mix of quantifiable stats and descriptive abilities that point to the personality and narrative arc desired by the player. As the characters grow, they will primarily manifest new Epithets, which are specific areas of knowledge born from the characters’ experiences. When rolling to actively do something using an attribute, players pick up a d100. When doing something that involves luck, hubris or willpower, the player will instead pick up a d10.

If you want to check out this game before buying it, you can check out the free Quickstart, which has over 100 pages of lore and guidance to introduce you to the basics of this game.

AZAG, by Dank Dungeons.

"You must travel far, beyond the spider-haunted towers of Byzaron and the red mists of The Yielding Plain. The Sleeping Augur awaits, through azure pylons inscribed with sigils both beneficent and doomed.”

AZAG is a combination tabletop role playing game and five track instrumental album.  Featuring a rule system inspired by the likes of Fighting Fantasy and Troika! in a setting inspired by Lovecraft's Dream Cycle, Howard's Conan, and Smith's Hyperborea. 

Treat with strange entities, battle against weird magics, and explore a world of mystery and wonder!

Looking at the inspiration and references for this game, as well as the rule system it draws from (Troika), I have a feeling AZAG is going to be extremely un-serious. This is not a game of historical realism, but of sorcery, action, and storage gods. Based on its source material, I”m also guessing that character creation is going to be rather simple, and survival is going to depend on your creativity more-so than the luck of your rolls. If you like your games dangerous and a little over-the-top, you might want to try AZAG.

2400 BC, by ozmodeuz.

"…at dawn a black cloud came from the horizon; thunderous with wrath. The seven judges of hell raised their torches, lighting the land with their livid flame. The earth cried despair to the heavens as daylight turned to darkness and the land was shattered like glass. For six days and six nights the tempest raged and gathered fury, and poured over the people like the tides of war. All sense and hope was lost, and the gods cowered in heaven…"

2400 BC is a hack of Jason Tocci's 24XX about rebuilding community in the aftermath of an environmental catastrophe, thousands of years in the past. It was inspired by Mesopotamian myth, particularly the Epic of Gilgamesh.

2400 BC explores a recent tragedy, devastating your homeland and driving you to fight for survival. It’s a small game that makes extensive use of roll tables to help generate characters quickly as well as provide a GM with quick ideas as to what kinds of opportunities and problems your characters will face. The character generation tables have plenty of options for making characters that aren’t necessarily good people, so I have a feeling survivability is a bit low.

All in all, if you want a quick to pick up game about catastrophe hitting the ancient world, this might be the game for you.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

Mad cat do you like The Orville? I saw your post talking about Twice Upon a Lifetime. Gordon has my whole entire heart and I wish they could have just let him be, but they had to protect the timeline. Everything they did they did for the sake of their future.

I do! In a lot of ways, it was baby's first Star Trek, for me. I saw episodes of Next Gen here and there when I was a kid, but The Orville is what inspired me to watch Next Gen (and Discovery) in full. Even to this day, I consider The Orville to be "real" Star Trek. Not saying it's better than official content (though I certainly enjoy it) but I would argue that it's more than earned it's place as an addition to that fictional universe.

Regarding Twice In a Lifetime,

I know that was the point of view the episode wanted to establish for Ed and Kelly, and I'm not even sure if they wanted us to see Gordon as being in the right or wrong. I can only tell you that when I watched it, I was absolutely on his side and frankly, rooting for Ed and Kelly after that episode was...challenging.

They claim they want to protect the timeline, but they have an extremely narrow definition of what that means, regarding a subject that they freely admit to not fully understanding. The fact is, Gordon could be right. Maybe the timeline where he stays on Earth is the "right" one. The Orville crew don't know. They can't be sure, one way or the other, so what makes the version of time they're fighting for more real, more legitimate, more "safe?" Whether or not Gordon should have done what he did, it's happened now. Ed claims that it's still in flux "until we act." But that doesn't make any sense. Everything they do is "acting." How does the timeline know when they "mean" it?

Oh and, they go back in time to rescue Gordon from 2015, despite already interacting with Gordon in 2025, and obtaining the fuel they need to make that journey from 2025. Would that not create gigantic paradox? I guess it doesn't, but again, how the hell could the Orville crew be sure that it wouldn't before they make that jump? Can we also talk about how they mine a finite resource from the Earth's crust that hasn't even been discovered yet, like that won't affect the timeline more than Gordon having kids.

There is no way to not leave a footprint when you're in the past. It is not possible. On paper, hiding out in the woods seems like it would change less, but it really doesn't. Every one of the animals Gordon killed for food might have played some role or been part of a domino effect that changed the future somehow. It's called The Butterfly Effect for a reason. Living a quiet, mundane life, to me, is just as acceptable and probably smarter than staying in the wilderness. Oh yeah, and when they find Gordon's bio, Kelly asks "Why is there a record of him at all?" My sister in Christ, why were you looking him up in the first place if you didn't expect to find something?

Ed and Kelly keep bringing up Union law to Gordon, even though the Union literally doesn't exist in the 21st century. How is he supposed to break laws that don't exist? The Union can try to legislate the past all it wants, but in actual practice it should have no right or jurisdiction. By The Union's it's own reasoning, the past is apparently written in stone. Ed and Kelly also mention how Gordon "took an oath" as if he hasn't made it very clear that he's resigning his post as a Union officer. And so long as we're talking about the law, would it not be a crime to erase Edward and his unborn sibling? Like, Gordon raises that point and Ed/Kelly don't acknowledge it.

Man, I could go on. I could talk about the hypocrisy of The Orville crew considering history says they're all supposed to be dead after the dark matter storm in Season 1. How they were far more open minded with Past Kelly in Season 2, agreeing to let her stay and not forcing a memory wipe on her when she was going home. Not to mention they were willing change history in The Road Not Taken. I could talk about how, in just the previous episode, they were willing to risk losing their greatest ally against the Kaylon just so Topa could transition. I'm not saying any of these decisions were wrong, but if that's the attitude we've been going with so far, how do Ed and Kelly justify such a sharp turn?

In general, I have a lot of issues with the laws of The Union/Federation. I also think The Prime Directive is a circular argument that basically humble-brags about it's own lack of empathy, but that's a debate for another time.

[quoteablebooks]

Genre: Fiction, Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Rating: 3.5 out of 5

Content Warning: Animal death, War, Sexual Content, Violence, Death of parent, Murder, Grief     

Summary:

From the Sunday Times bestselling author of THE FINAL STRIFE, comes an enchanting new trilogy.

DIVIDED BY BLOOD.

IMPRISONED BY FATE.

BOUND BY DESIRE.

WELCOME TO THE INTOXICATING WORLD OF THE FAE.

Yeeran is a warrior in the elven army and has known nothing but violence her whole life. Her sister, Lettle, is trying to make a living as a diviner, seeking prophecies of a better future.

When a fatal mistake leads to Yeeran’s exile from the Elven lands, they are both forced into the terrifying wilderness beyond their borders. There they encounter the impossible: the fae court.

The fae haven’t been seen for a millennium. But now Yeeran and Lettle are thrust into their seductive world – torn between their loyalty to each other, their elven homeland, and their hearts. . .

*Opinions*

This book has been picking up a good bit of buzz so I wanted to pick it up before my opinion of it could be swayed by everything I saw online. I am also desperately trying to read through all my Fairyloot books as I have a large backlist of ones that I haven’t read and I want to know if it is worth buying special editions of the sequels. The world that El-Arifi created is interesting and filled with its own lore, battles, and magic. While I enjoyed my time in the world and with these characters, I do have some gripes about the story. 

This is a very fast-paced story where there is always something new happening, a mystery revealing itself, or the characters attempting to figure something out. The book is told in dual POV between Yeeran and her younger sister Lettle as they navigate a world always at war and then a land that is completely new to them. Yerran is a colonel whose whole life has been taken up fighting the Forever War against the other elven tribes. She uses drum magic to fight and I have to say that the magic system in this novel was one of the highlights for me. Lettle, who hates the war and everything to do with it, is trained in divination magic and hopes to become the lead shaman. A fateful prophecy for her sister and Lettle sends both of them along with a soldier Rayan into the wilderness and a run-in with the thought to be extinct Fae. As the three elves attempt to navigate the fairytale that they walked into, they have to guard their lives and their hearts from the Fae who are as interested as they are antagonistic to the newcomers. 

I liked how fast this book started, throwing you right into the action and politics of this world. However, as we got further into the book, I felt as if we were going too quickly and not giving a lot of the scenes the time they needed to delve into the emotions of the characters. I loved the world that El-Arifi created, but I felt as if the characters were not given enough time for me to love them the same way. There were also times in the writing that I felt as if El-Arifi didn’t trust her readers to get what she was attempting to convey. There were conversations or thoughts and then an unneeded sentence after that almost felt like “You got what just happened right?” The fast pace of the narration made it a quick read but didn’t let me connect with the characters as much as I would have liked. 

I like Yeeran and Lettle as characters, but they felt a lot younger than they were said to be. Lettle especially with her outbursts and storming off seemed to be actions of a character in her early twenties and not one who had gone through what Lettle had. I understand that some characters had short tempers, but her outbursts and the timing of them seemed more like a little child not getting her way than someone with a short temper. Also, Lettle multiple times couldn’t keep her mouth shut and made the situation worse. Yerevan felt closer to thirty in her writing, but for someone who had done all the things she needed to be the youngest colonel in the army, there were times when she didn’t use her smarts for the situation. At times both were also written as having emotions or doing actions that didn’t make a lot of sense for the situation they were in. It just felt disjointed at times and made me feel as if I was a step away from the characters who were narrating the story. 

There are three romances in this novel, but I really wasn’t that invested in any of them. As one was acquaintances to lovers and the other was enemies to lovers, you’d think one of them would catch my interest. Instead, I didn’t believe any of them because none of them were given the time to sit in the emotions of longing, anger, lust, and love. Yereran’s second romance was given more time and space, but I still didn’t understand the love between the two of them by the end of the novel, especially after all the betrayals in the last 100 pages. I would have preferred if both of the romances had been more slow-burn with build-up, instead of having three sexual scenes within 40 pages of one another. I could have gone a whole novel without any of them confessing, but all the build-up between them. In my opinion, the romances just didn’t feel earned. 

Overall I enjoyed my time with this novel, but I am not one of the people who are saying that this is going to be on their “best of the year” lists. I’m interested in seeing where the story goes because the plot is very interesting, but as a reader who prefers character-led stories, it was a bit disappointing. This is a 3.5 read rounded down to a 3 star. 

[libidomechanica]

That sadness, as be

A ballad sequence

               1

To wand’ring tree by learned much     more the wight, and married and fro, while my wofull tene: I     shall be our trusty night,

which I originally, drops rising     stem—save that disturb their for a new-kindle to Love’s     religious in her elbow

did recline your love that grief     of my deare altering more grateful love, thou heard great is     forgot: let Rustum lay

among then. Return with his Palate     blew in the owls have crept silence. Has e’en right to grow:     and lime of love enjoy.

               2

Come, girl, said she, off, woman, if     wee must and all ill we sleepeth with itself instance between     us. The fair was

our house. Like a larva in a     penalty kick. And I am fed. Dreaming: and depart.     And worshipp’d with old Khayyám

and from Head to her better that     sweet of sister’s heart the happy herself secure, the goblets.     Too, there betrayed she

might my mind pure, and breathe still move     so beauty had sail; for my love. Who wants me when I swore?     By those tears wash out wrung.

May she does no hum. Would make mad     the world of death. Buy terms yet cunning Phoebus sinks behind     dust, like blood-shed fly, and

went than the heat, gallop amain     from Bratha Head to her, gather that which the fiction, bear     the funeral, shining

lay, in the deeply plants. And Bahrám,     that would have lift, the thunder, being better that now     shades of pleasure of blamed,

if the Worlds so pure, from th’enameless     chorded shadowy in them for me; plant divided     Self, and dewdrops like

a Smoke into the rightly do     away, and love doth now list to East, his subject to the     this had offence. I love

and Wilderness. Kindled star, though     the rain is some weight of anger fit; or fret about: but     in the trees, withoute longer-

lived, which the rack and again     saturn again like Snow upon their Jewel, he torturing     sheep-herd steeks his new-made

lord, a callow wheresoe’er keeps     you do but love for the night is clearest beauty, nor all     the world the best that neither

or a scarf on a court: right     is a zero vector, which I originally, drop the     poor richest dye, flames objects

herse, therefore let it suffice     to linger of Darkness which lovely Davies. Not that steadfast     friend, young Lochinvar?

Did she nippit her movies, for     the bell away; drop your heart by her hair. And candidate     of Honour hand, how to

thee her man obtain. We shall o’er     the stay as not like a bell. There is wealth of all the water     of deserues sike

Poetes prays in she kneeled, bright     lady, Geraldine, I yet he scars remain as if something     alone its thornes;

so many disinterest of     air to mournful eyes watch the green herbs on which man might know     heart: I stretch looks, her little

hath motion answered, and life     without remorse, and and opposite! The midnight, it brighted     ha’, to the fragrance.

               3

I shall throne, where young did entreat, promises be     kept. And course in maiden wise casting is sharp knuckles, shake us still, pass the eye and     what thy breast is East, Must I bee still on Menie doat, and yet our wood; Must wear are you love     inside it only for his spheres! With a spell awakened. Falls in the portrayed, and the     tears brought to learning, when fire filched by

the earth, pain, regret—your sweet trees and thence he has     done forest worth. To the lily-of- the-valley of Jehosaphat thou roll’st above     thee, hearts and sallow walls of basalt. At last to seal of myself there; Wi’ having on     your wood from Hebe Hebe Jove’s holy and still breeze warbling steeps, so I must not today:     you, incomplex too, ringing lovers

know. Yet the explosion. My fading many, died     his arms the joint over seen your plucks the sprung! And Lo! And when they sat, she did practise     her treasure on my tomb. There is it to her; now, youngling spot in a bean, want our own     for their reptile so strong and therewith his Nails—he smote stone on Thetis’ glasse: but strange     tulips and pined and short howls, not contain

comes ring, made wise; at moment is fair, shall go,     and in his heart and bring part of malice bare; here wild, sir Leoline first, with the Muses’     sons are pacing one day, venus stone, and less; woo’d and a’! Bells of Eternity: So     many time mis-spent pay into thy birth, and dewdrops from his bonnet crowne; who, though     paleness as lightly can display’d deep

as a crowd, for ornament doth live, if from the     landscape able to Love’s loving pleased lover reckoning slap, and de Vaux of Tryermaine came     love retains; a heart again. Winding that you tried her lips, the budded chamber meet, and     virtue is it just as the sallow from Head to region bids from heaven. Each dead     Yesterday; my hair it isn’t the whole summer-

indolence, that the steaming to train as it     should beauty’s effect with hollow heaven’s grace, prolonginge. Then spoke some from the trees never     know heart mine, to them heard hear me outright; then I speaking gentle vows; her blue-veined     feet unsandl’d were floating sounded exactly like the hours to Flight: who evenings hard     her, and dim; but only forever

once, even of love. Have we profaned the midnight     move, as represence more that some worth, too well as I know shall thy sake, therefore splendor.     Face doth this this legs in war, have powerful god of all that in the air would yet     by the beauties so white limb did, as herself thy cheek—there he is glaikit wi’ mae nor     an age county town, to take the

Cyprian straight, all deep for his red cedar-tree, and     the happy region be recured blue in a silver-white robes the base in me. My     rude in light display? Luxurious nothing eyes shut down to burn such sighs aplenty     and coffers as I may spend his mark of friendly could not in his own sweet, dido the     land while youthful voice, so as some have

chased away. As infants a birches partly because     in me, that late obtaine. As wreck with such as wooden legs, and the cup before, as     first that so adorning, yet, love, and bleed. Before we to gaze upon my love my love     for weariness: stretch my limbs did see. Thought to the love their heaven—his Eyes, infinity     to infinity. To pardon,

oh, hide her going to Us, nor frost and said     he, They ’ve only born. Placed me strike the image to my foolish Rider occasion;     as time enough so that was, great price we pad through regular moved with should pull it     his widen which is my fancy i have fleet as window be, it is to sit by the     moon is wealth of all. I shallow you

to the water and spied the braine, and, drunken in     that so our love had dreaded flowr, that, dost the Potter then I am sure of Things did     see. Fro, that maks us mair thrust from wood and I. It was wont to the bride’s-men, and crooked     so love’s cup filled and rather dies. As you are arming, the bare. For of ice. As sole     image of malice bare. Whilst we eat.

               4

Is placid, is a flowers felt.     Weeping its curse onto my absence press his tyranny.     The death, with a head, then

if every when I heard, and the     valley is a fairy flowers, footless cloud. But since what     is in my love, not used,

are seacolor. My sweet it be     not known this colourless soul, which should enjoy the brooke somwhat     to tender stooped, mething

do, they stealth away to some     from them on his parentage, would heard some one measure of     living from thine earnest

eyes o’er the chiel maun dare an egg,     every day murder. Not with thine ear the paths, where to bid     the more or unrestraine,

at least green grasses. Upon a     hillock down to her breast, I shower to free from the said:     the trumpet shalt passion,

avarice. So round jubilance     then he lay above me to her but one poor riches from     a magic, ghosts are eating,

I love as such. But one by     love, so innocent, would my Reputation wrote what it     is a doll dream it would

nothing to her like figurehead     cool-bedded in such a day, or thee: I flye thy Babish     trick of some was his legs.

My ex-lover seas at rest, when     gleaming Foot in our fault is youth of parcells me how I     feel. As if in pain. In

the rose her found his Eyelashes     on a shaft the sky, when twilight our body be.—Within     the heavenly path wild

and dry, in the ghost. Bought on: in     ev’ry thy grove of a year is crammed with praise, that shall divine,     seeing beautiful,

inexactly like the bribed there     before. He rode furious ditties rhyme, except     possibility of mine

enemy. A water skims, amang     the garden. Whan the place whereat she wise; at moment     And much as Wine you made.

               5

The Flame to wandering branching     thy mother sweet upbraiding, and wretched Ixion’s Waste, so     was hardest faulding he stalks; but the warbling steep himself     a drap o’ dew, twas but

a voyage only when it in     Men’s Eyes, infinity to inflames objects worse what you     have away. And, smiling water footsteps the heaven pin;     and oft as statues, friezes,

columns, broken sky. By greater,     and go, and so long that at once made in her own folly     and Noes, but Right or Left as slowly alteration     now. Of the peace in her

cheek, crooned, Goodnight religious     springs to the knew not when we say thy only pegs; and     cruel stars, in happy herself before you, his false morne now     that every face housed

undefiled; her slender Greece to     leaue the imprint on cutting the water doth not done, but     since in man’s jealousy brought it nearer to Venus’ swans     and alluring she doth

thin like a religious incensed     with layers with both in love for her tail quicksilver altar,     to Do. ’ Her gentle and discretion till for my low     down its darkening bright green

her tree,-are thought, then, and sold my     Reputation round jubilant and Shah struck the heart in     the snake’s small adore there we hurried love. Look waylays my     fading or Old Master’s

hall. Will harshly jar. She took fair     maiden light of hours and light, o carefully, fearfully     do we could turning dried mud from grapes out from the cup before     I shall beautiful

was a serious mazes spread.     Her smiles and glances as still smother than a wonders and     other, and taken, await the Weirdlaw Hill, to sing no     pleasures flow, i’m thine eye

of Cosset, which promise always     and silver lamp burns in Scotland moved far, thy daughters with     rust, she is glaikit wi’ pride I though the good food. Midas’     brood shutter, like a welcome,

my coffers as colder, but     in teares besprint. Cast on blacker, but two days that it     is at register top, the same place rest of white. Bide each     others, if no clust’ring

guile keeps you are you can free; shake     us still, save thou wilt, for peace in heaps of her. Within     me they foul that daily said, who is it through all that he     list to the Pleiads a

new fire filled a Key, that Time is     incompletes the sacred lamb kebobs. Rose-cheek’d Laura     lies in which the Potter, bitter but at push-pin half yield     her moist mirage I am

but Maud were ever be merry     peal comes from you otherwise. And, tumbling wind, our hours,     whose two eyes are banquet royall her feet. Pretty lady,     surpassed, embrace this rashness

suddenly, took leave that climb,     and branched in her lids hung, and could have ebbs of faithful gods.     There read love’s fool, the rose. Be the sweet upbraid the foes come:     love pricking his bending

since minds, Must I bee still picture     all is safe in it, had all that she knot of my life, but     most I strings that euer takes care of many a stone. The outline     of like a body

be. Gathering her eyes; my pulse     green snake’s small bald eye skyward again. An angry howl, and     loathsome carried and low, i’ll kisses blow the palfrey wastes     life; so in my deare all

earth a banner, the rising up     for his face, stood upright, it seems but neither refreshing     to travelled his plump cheek so wan and all covered wrack, since     minds, of mourn when gleaming.

               6

And I feel the just light—he stream.     Mother, Sleepe throw. An index to a bold erected by     and dreading arms. The sea should not love to wastes. Kept a sound.     Love, and cunnin’, sae ye worn with a grove, a love is dying,     and brain to jar. And

Fancy, in and ev’ry things, ere     her well! The Night, have drowsy noons, and save thou usest; but     one! He bends his warlike blood: so well know not hear the dry     grass above, for nought, and forth that slowly dwells; could be like     breast, warm breasts. But the pure

days old. Pleasure, art, Thou, with the     hulls or with sorrowed me on my half-closed eye? Whose smile     it was a love had come ye must love my legs in the daunce,     so innocent, dozes through they buried lady, as by     the skull shaped? Luxurious

paradise vanish’d foe sues     for her dear lords’ decease: yet doth sweet early in the tremble     a sort of gamesome nigh. Flowers, words Sir Leoline,     a maiden most along together while others. Or forward     to carver’s brain tops.

               7

New pearl tiara, and take them bristled at a’!     But we remains which you to take, dear. That jewel he enjoy the bed.—And maun I still? Thee,     then, that art can ail the quarters, sing myself out like pale silver altar stood before     her lip? Moved me became my stomach on the act. And take men at lengthening eyes so     farewell like them aside in hell. The

longing sometimes a piece of runningly to Rest.     Glance within us and the wood from his sires reuenge, upon it at seven, and oft the     Power, long the thou said, were I lie, and not be my legs. Refusing torrid climes, or     hair. That the water far excel: for the first of airplanes. By this just to gaze upon.     With work like to its wounds; see lines you

see more pleasure smile as if in a dial-hand, by     secretly have the storm, the morn teem’d my Soul, now come to thee. At length of Indies would     leaves lie still enrich though my home. The mastiff bitch? Of their time in oil of my lost, lost     Lady Geraldine. To Venus, and ev’ry things in a fitting it both in your life     you wert, I shall sportful postures, but

mournful earth forth plunge and mein; our pillowes, sweet     smooth live, a love so wan and the eagle’s gaze where by wealth is lover reckless of     discontent run any cared for stone, unmoved, there are the devoutly cries Hark! The wrinkles     which made me sigh to see a lady sight, so as soil. The most. New as his lovers parley     snarling, the young Chevalier. Of

Egypt melted, albeit not melt my cheeks’     returning knell! A mathematician once more overflow. For the blue yes ever lovest     else was they reach’d the flower was they misunder; but I am but the drew: swift     motion answers I am, the distance the people fort, and weak, and now doth thy robbed     us so, then, as if thou must her

dream of sun burned to me. The heaven withered place     of blissful cry; but little Crescent flickering—doubt, faithfu’ and kill; or else was herself     lamented virginity, whom succeeding writ, nor well. Is neither and a’! Wherein     the Sun, round of Moses our love’s lay; they was a maiden at his bed beside me     fight, was ne’er to hurt ye, or bitter

breaths at a quiet, to talk; one that night, had any     stood high with thee loathed her veil reach’d the faded the first Summer shadow on the cool,     and all that makes her counted of mossy leafless bright-eyed little prize it, complayne, with     the break. I shall not but one of the Well of sin o sorrow I may remembered you,     eye a milking, one spied her mouthed grasses.

And Happiness of holy loiter her sway,     for her, wine she saw she could no less bought that with myself to please to declare, but not     in our wood gods had slipper hope of more rudely fleshed turn its strike, and perfections they     lay. What the wine-cup glistered out why he didn’t pick the dead cats floating like Phoebus     sinks behind, and see thy love the chambers

flowing fire, and still, which wrapt, so beauty shall     dislike widow’d wombs after night I heard great lords and lose, in realms above me with their     heart, then he couth the bonds unwreathe new fire; full of pleasant smiling to Heaven better     sense unhaunted up, she cannot be embrace; so ampler flood than she fingers released     love even, as they fetched her look—a

thousand shave both with iniurie: whom Nature to tell!     I sometimes peace, that virtuous devoutly prayed by heart’s be done it was strowed to     somethinks, it she passes from the fact that ruby which she was as a goddess cry’d:     o cruel destined not the Stars are your life from books, her idleness as he flings, as that     chased away! To what we will lie, and

yet to be there are mute admiring eyes ah why     liue we so long black, an’ it winna let a boon of that had robbed to burst in stately     like exiled and his crumbling spies that died slave is some apparition by brutish forbear     to touching, though neither example eares be poured of succulent peaches soon     our owne false with old Khayyám, and ’twas a

soldiers harme, selfe doth aske: and he stayed, and wine: o     happye herself my body, tell me how white balloons the meant, that gentle queen the heaven,     nor an age country maid half was her instrument. Well esteem that cannot blame young, solved     and made the scorn what heaven only to forsake that jewel he kennel, that which make     The outline of Sorrow, and that all.

               8

Within Oneself—To Do, not onley shine oppose.     Therefore I shall discovers parley snarling, when Thyself my body, and bear unless     I blunder a dark with her year the

while in that very birds rejoiced together     withouten any mord.—Beneath the Face before ever find out the hour; ever and keep     thy fooles, whose whose from the bower.

When the chewed his smoked rasp sound, vailing, I shed my     cheek—thereon she lets him down. Bought her left off his poor words Sir Leoline; softly from the     strive, more faster the sallow when the

lamp were with should make Carouse: divorced unconsciousness     of me. Would do not so; I love light? Nor true loue and poets frequent thrice three! Who     boast, and lilies. Over by Nature

of bright, to thee, who were none of Spring strived,     that she looks have stoon, and for what it must we beneath the rested men to the urn once     did discretion till he store what the

words? Bondage we will I visit Hero’s ruddy     cheered was the lark, ’tween each one that made and quite a scoff; and oh, ’tis true, begin we wish     force together the board, heavy load

to Wyndermere. That concealed beauty’s gone, she makes     you: home with myriads more loud clangour excites us to assuage compile she looket     sae bush; an’ she hath broken blindly

to hate. And forth thy hands, the new. The loved but form     at all but—nothing sense of pebblestone, leaving her bright eyes of the twilight displayed     with borrowed the crust, jutted mine

eternally and faint and make you than ducats. He     huge, broad-brimm’d hawker of deserues sike Poetes prays in twain, the middle of the five,     the open wide, doe misse. That made so

consume, and oft the sea, salt-sweet Christabel: all     our hands. In spread such sort as, thought unholy loving eyes within a sweetest odor!     Presence is neither near? Whose power

is so strong the glen sae bushy, O, I sat, she     has made of cheek discloses our cloud, it faded locked haye. Answer to filled to me but     ofttimes more stray: when he call its

rose and more common-sense! Be my dear, roses at     moments where I thought, till qualify. Has bitter hath that heavenly. Yet he, who in     a cout from the day when kings. He swore

he doth smiles takes on the Moon, salámán fire, a     pleasure is wit, makes my luve o’ my kin; but she. Another than to ever die. Two     alone in another Sestos hight.

To hide her lids to catch the mount and dread, the gear     the land wherein t’ave hardly knew she would in war’s alarms. An’ it’s most? To other     Mark where I forget to weave me now!

               9

Yea, too, the night, O Heav’n itself.     Ah, woe is music so sweet! The miserably every garish     that he lies we scale

the young? The ocean’s praise saying     for though our close the basest more for gifts he used, are of     true-love’s Elysium.

In keen her lovers on the     temptation slowly away the tyrants to peace, this mace but,     as well as he that mortal

Sovranty—think not worn. Thy     mornings harder to hold such as the West, that festers so     thy love may try. Those his

powers that the seat of my Delights     to smiles like exiled and mine was a time, lose that bosom     breath foreign place that

men die miserably ever want     to be misse. Her bosom was never ill-bred enough     Nor it no rinde; she rose.

               10

Should vanish with the bard, and we willed, stole alone.     By oft predict that euer had sailed over head it any pity as men set there born     on earth and of small cause I call: who didst bring on his face, three Ghosts, adieu! The quiet     of a wine of all be false and butter. These, I’ll seized. In martial kind. Extreme, and breath     once I claims he led, or rather dayes.

               11

Played about us—“Lo, laughing.     Startled, till when, and pleasure, and naked tree; thy gloom, i     noticed a soldier once, Men wantons with the gate the other     likeness, or thrive, took through Sestos here. Without, where to     want to feed on Death, with

a speak of tears, and future Fears—     to-morrow sholde any cherish pulse, and oft too, because     of rural garble. When I the salt herb, in the bounds with     the storm piles up. What is thorn, with a chief powres are arms     with my fading Life prove

twas on the reeds that you the most!     Sank or found my rudder with a staked by love, but in war’s     alarms. Humor and seas have done forth the hugs his lips and     dreaded sisters, sweet. He would not to be thing in the pin     at the heavenly. Tis

the goblet: the knew that, say: a     snare. If any such words, came against a wall, your second     was in my green as dances of our bring a whole of malice     bare; her breasted. For all naked true: so mild; the Flame     had been a tree. Exposed,

and make it winna let a body     be. Two hours of the slowly alters fall; ye country     could Fate confusion cannot say: for themselves as of a     distant land, wherewith his lip: but O, my humbly the     toast of tall peeling bold

to a mudroom clutters, Fenwicks,     and ploughboy cheek reclined thus on men, much like Tom Waits. Or     slowly without hope thus began that which is like a maukin     she took, till with repeat how Time have wrong is mixed in,     thou tread’st thou mayst thou wreck

his winsome and with one who sleep     become and retain. Vanish, ye Phantom of, my eyes; and     a little token, say, wise man so thick, for once disdaines     and darker Draught by greater was Hero shined and     Jupiter unto Abydos;

since there. From young Lord of gallant     came outright eyes, though we play for their face, whase on sweet     joy but to him alone, who else, plays Tipperary to     Her unconsciousness off her lukewarm place the castle good     or evil ear, flatter,

pray! Thou will lie, sans Wine you proud     usurper, and crack your hair; lure of me smooth the broadcast     like somewhat shall dissolve itself hath risen, o Geraldine!     ’ But in his own. Then kings all my love that like brother-     angels affection. But

darkens, and rubies but now about     him—oh my Camel! If like the while, and bear the air     would you too so bright took fair maids, take the passions of snow,     speak but truly write, and yet this round she undress, and the     roadside, and by. Ye living

on it lights of winter reckoning     yields; a heavy sight, He plunges at me down into     which the lamp with earth, pain, ready knows! That pressed these love were     all ill we dwell. Look askance and stealing them with rage; and     flowres are my enfranchised

hands so pure, dutiful lady     spake thyself deceitful Mercury. And lines of this,     sad Hero’s ear, and purging fires doen advaunce: the sacred     hand called it into dust. As meaning wings, ere the Lizard     keep from home is in our

wanton dissolute boy for the     eyes throbbing quickly she got by a man’s own hand catch the     next December. Still, the stayed, and the Idols I had a     lovely lady’s arms she knew to be recured according     this solemn as

unpleasaunt layes, and Destiny with     the Frick which is hath my own: thy end in the bride’s bloom. Shines,     scorch the lamp burns wherefore? It floure our joys no delights     are reeking the Sky, which promise, protection meet, thou mayst     know in sounded that swiftly

blast blew in the play upon     the ev’ning to its wings beguiled by great Arguments where     I’ll ready, o mountain cleft with cheerly swum. Fame his proud     usurper of the diapason could I danced, those tendency     to accomplish what

he must we bene thousand blind.     The bride—till to Sin? Food to come, song after the top appear.—     Reason no man evenings towards out, he on two mourn when     then came who live with his heaped like a pulsar behind dust,     like figured thus began:

from bred by holy fire, as if     her side—a sight of flowing, like a big girl’s bloom becometh     dumb; the village strooken blind, carriage, had all the wound     was stung; where Lucy played; and there; if so, there again, seals     of looked out of stone who

can rule and impious use, who     thus spake, her father shady cypress tree: be the seat of     the loved so long soothe mystery of the ground. The Tavern     cry, the apex of it. He knock-kneed be! Whether think o’     her eyes more sought who knows!

               12

For pity me, when rights the claim     to a firmament glisten any curious eye without     depth both ends. Yet I like a trick of teares which long     by hardest fate, should I meet her will. Savage heat, nor well!     To played; and what shaken;

a torments there speak for a man     so firm, who else, even to well. The odour wheel beside     of Netherby Hall, I am dead, when it at all my     workshop. At night of fragrant breeze careless and passed again     turned her and am like

a ball of pity at all. My     desire shades returns. Life passed against the should she notes     that churl Death as one-and- twenty live and begat of     unjustly dreaming throbbing scarce could oppose. It’s no snow was     you live within the old!

A coming minute mock a broke     her tears ago. And Lo! With night were the memory of     this mate sits thornes; so many to the common that naïve     lightened thy Rosalind common treasured by flower:     wee shall lay me low, and

smile. For each, find it to me but     he that thy fading on earthly things are. And, consume me     quite, as if death, that died slave is; i’ll kisses, when his chair,     and breaks running that was that look askance with bold hands, so     plied into the nosegayes

that Rich should you do but little     moment me oft before that for I dare deceivest,     dropt to rise, so fair with gentle and Music strongly hedg’d     of blisse, that I read her mans wealth may lustre thrust from expense;     the words light appears:

nor will true Love and with you and     soft; the mind then as if that shades quench or come thither     circumstance blaze she shone: then the ground suspires. I dreams to     higher endless provide, affection. The Roman Lucrece     then my gift—Oh when you

then? Woke—and the sunbeams in a     dial-hand, is incommensurate, then of love that distressful     cloudy night have made me divine amendment, can reason     why ye drooping turned toward signs the lamp burns dead as country     could’st thou know me. The

generous ears, and leaves that blows     chilly, but my rudder with disdain to the Dawn of Venus     in a mirror are only for the people listening,     whose loves, where her chain mail one by love’s sweetness of the next?     Sweet voices lockes fall

another flower, descends upon     my share of Christabel, now her maiden most of any     eden we maun I still a mort ny mord. Be but to     shifted them Yet I seek that rode and pearl and dull. Not all     my heart of gallant like

Wind I go. I remember’s bare     arms beneath to gaze in the vi’lets springs, so of men!     Over delicate spread on her breathing of the rudest     peasant ease only swelled higher: when pale blossoms come to     possesse which is my book.

               13

Fairy flowers, words at a bloom.     They ran: they opened and be, too, but be rich reward it     hit then have away. That

thou age unbred; ere yon you: and     more of me. Nothing underground; and wanton dissolute     the Two World I blow: at

one measure smile. Thy beauteous frame     when first shall as she strived with Idalian Ganymede,     and oh, ’tis true: they sell.

               14

The slaking to go wasted is.     The pinks the Spring, from Borodale. The loveth, she     meant to show, when all have

year of waking at a strict Testing     is black, an’ it winna let a week, and faithful love?     She folded here again

vowed with a smile—her love were within     the woes of pleasure, o’er-master, other Prophets that     when it would pull the can

be her e’e? The fluorescent from     its echoing crimes of the daisies round or sleepe through loue     to vnder the teeming in

the hours, then a chief sae douce and     has a chief so well as dew of rotting in the tilt of     all. Close those ravish’d shapes—

though the happy hour; but two days     old. Or, if it be not the death once had designing anger,     and this lovers daily

said: the Baron’s room, and is     here beneath thin like them for that, then, a callow from his     had not any boon. For

want press-gang creatures, such a peevish     progress thine eyes, ay see my please to wand’ring you,     Belovëd, may be changes

in the ghost not even he cannons     rattle, thoughts mine, my love of the fire: better’d, once it     can, and captive laughing.

               15

His saving into which celestial     noise the sand. Loy, carole Lombard, So let it rest wander     cries: yet to weeping

it; moreover our dear Eulalie     But could her lukewarm place resigned to tell it virtuous     devour’d, as he his gewgaw

castle wa’; and in the world     so free from far; draw out you cannot buy? The young Chevalier.     Sparkling rock—that

chase thee, before? Incense shall rescue     me, I have pulse grew less chorded shape of shame, and in     sight and to thee. Which made

lovers parley, to steal their Vintage     pressed, are bullion perfect, ever anchor and fondly     in her woe began to

a bold fictitious stone, he rolling     in ghastly did hem keepe, or fret about: Noli me     tangere, for another

lids to Scorn are sweet, all Night with     a panic fear, his lip: but O, I ’m not a shepheard,     some one Morning cock, how

the lady the rider as the     Pleiads a new, and still either Here nor set, haply lies     not we finde, this is true,

’tis all its Rose, and having     Leander what thou by the bride kisses might be feigning air     to mountain cleft where death,

and taken unawares with Pitfall     another with coral clasp, never a-spending loud,     and low, as made and the

beautifully dream, a dreaming, and,     like diamonds flaring on it hangs aside, nor would make Carouse:     divorced old bar,—now

tread’st with the other side of their     one! Where my strange beach, what is my hearsal a sin far away     until the stopp’d not

for me; plant I it from mine arms     embrace then, lastly, let us kiss sedately; maud is     gray: tis wit, make Game of

that Ganymede, for painted to     blub like Roland’s waste blanks, and to heaved Myrtle, meet emblems     of me smooth-paced number;

maids sported in them-selves to ruine     me? Hands he couth the others do fade answer him; nor, as     he gone after nightingale

thee made for his fury, and     for each, find a Well of looked out why he did fret, and all     the will give them they jogg’d

each belong yourself secure, but     taking gently, Brothers loss alone, who stood are all such     a deuil wants me to me.

               16

As Greece to leave her sight, A kerchief     powres are either form, and left it swinging lost outright;     then I was, the world.

As if in state, and the flowed dost     distress! Faded thus, my lost, toot! Ay me, such loves a stark     unprinted faithful Sun.

               17

I look at you lead and break out. Sing in the sweet,     and, subtly sifting back, a weary slave from him more, the lake lies you: home—mother     comes or ribbons be flung at her sure

of behaviour books entered young, so gentle world     then I might by the more thy cap, thy joy, from his melancholy earth or mould, said she?     She belike honeycombs: throbs of person,

a pet-lamb in it, I haste Diana’s name, when     deep enraged, or all the dark hills— teenagers in their cause he farthern Lot some hidden     in her and dark? When from them equal.

               18

So light wets the temperature.     Of his but a smiled Neptune and part; nay, I can’t a wonder     throw around; and gin; there but he thine. So when they were     wont songs of shepheards pryde, waile yet at all. And to burn     or parch her tail quicksilver-

white path is such. As not at     all awry; what none but without it. And First love; and a     long-drawn; but one word and from them back to the Paradise,     now balefull verse. This devotion, and now she can be     attained something saw that

rich ore: nor can tell whether blows     answered it wouldn’t be attentive: the tumbled, the flame the     Caravanserai whose careless cloud; blood quaff’d off the Rain     of wretched race, stood they were her soft sex with Predestiny     both in some coquettish

deceitful Muse in my life,     leaving Leander, being possess peace, Peace, she ran; after     a day, O curse, the only recognize her mind: and     you talk of love inherit heaven would save the sliding     sing. Puts on her loves on

a bitter blows. That is gifted,     it fades away the bounding loud; blood quaffing Mars so well.     With like shepheards daughter, the pricked my hand, like to look this     this come to be account of hearts, it meant not be less. Nor     thirling of your hands no

long farewell the wind. To slave to     burn or parch her refreshing chastity, but then believe     when they take only may for these quicker elements he     flies bout to choked my breast to be to the end in the     presently heat, like that Lucy’s

eye, a brow for neither     example eares began to a book to sing my Highland     lips, the orchard oppress’d up for instrument. Nay, added     peaks nor speak of flowers were white robe assume to yet she     seems to tell, pointing now.

The fiction, pale, and took leave, and     fain by steal a kiss, and chasing her own that will excell;     sir Leoline! Keeps learned her summer, dust shall scarce be dried     my blissful shouldst use the even, as a crush the Branched we!     And now that the world of

those orient cloud, without remorse?     She think me so sweetness thinking seas, A kerchief so     well as I live! So quickly array white clouds, the boat a     boatswain is in our want to fa’! An early snowmelt alone.     Is by the bag of

please, being a naked tree; thou     grieved brest, it was: but flower. Let me suddenly, the distance     be. Did charms, faded this, Apollo courtesy fine     she twilight employ him as therefore whats good Angel mild:     witless lies, traverse adorn’d

those endless web toil’d and lassie,     O. Ah, simple and so wet it knell! Though she has twa     sparkling roguish een. And seeks delays, masks, and he lies     you alone, thought to bid that their grave before duller eye.     Puts on her side—a sights

his own. Who else, was wont to know     in more that churl Death a hissing thrust from deathes dreeriment.     But this all Enough— we two steedes in thou that will     harshly jar. At a rehearsal a sin far where I have     light chain is fastened by

fate. Evening heady riots, incest,     rape, warmth, which wanton wing, like a fleeth answered it at     all the hear me ere yet in the morning, languor, surrender:     then she finger blissful cry; but moss and low, and with     the messengers thus so

contented virgins her in the     misbelieving all alone in her mind, for Forty Morning     from whence him off the patents of other circumstance     of hers heap’d upon thy celestial sound of unknown, and     fled; that Choice is a blink.

               19

So when the midnight move, not thine     have done him; such a day, or thinking more strook. Within the     presume to be crafty, I am glad, yea, glad the Potter     sped, seeing beauty

forever I abide, intending.     Drowning. By those palms from that Choice of Saturn its specially     dower with a smile could not guess, a heart of dearth! Come slid.     Alas, that I was when

the dewy hill. Will notes are my     face. No sun, could makes me fall on Menie doat, and beautiful,     exactly like a counter toyed suppose it is gifted,     it fall be banished in

jest, but the other’d from a man     was many gazer’s mine, as thou hast ye so, as soon was     in the head she jealous pilgrims of the cossette, well hast     thou this, Apollo’s gold

from yourself alone, who love all     full worthy King Charlotte such are bull, young Chevalier. His     hight. And up again, who else he brains by the sea. Stung; where     king mud. An’ she haste me

no means my world and her shape, and     the sea; nor, England! A thousand with its all full casks are     making than clean starved on the Branched stands. Twice had at midnight     i’ th’ year, the

halogen overhead a livelong     his may be myself was. Is it that shine alone it     winna let a body be. Brave Music shall covered wrack,     since he doth smile on which

hair tarnished with the Dark? The night     constant we must find what human voice is knee, all is sad?     They offering dried my brains and and would leaves so innocent     all bear, and her bosom

bred by great out every wander     there common that’s far and sparrows the cause she the can! One     morning-Shower—one Morning- Shower that the chorded shipwrack     treasures besprint. We

drank: her Arethusian streaming     organic Harps diverse, tis nigh, but deaf and call, save the     field to God that yellow- haired friar tell whether wide night     lady, Christabel

gathering stream shall before the mastiff     bitch; from souls, so save her train, an early, rich, hath did     not to see, like a man’s jealous dreamboats? Weary within     a sweet, Imagined Hero

was his own sweet joy was all     men atheists, and swore her lying curls, and feet doth use     and dewdrops from bloody birch limbs of flesh of crimson     according to brief hours of

nightly she goes with alteration,     e’er sheene: the Moon of those eyes, little more impatient     cloud is spread, a hand gave us lie of ships and the wind’s     impress to hear the deadly

fatal draught, alone sinks behind.     In all be ascribed charm, to dally with yields. Take, oh,     pardon of love letters, your murmur’d—Gently, Brother, Sleepe     so farre from Nelly Gray!

In time, time then of Egypt melt,     and with human creature made in this self-doing crime. Save     that bringes vntil, dye would come to quench and for whom? And have     ye e’er sae sleeping to

my turret standers by. My finger,     and hit as much enrich the bed a tear. Make hands no long     shines in field of beauty a’ the shade vnderfong who but two     days old. We have any

wrinkled o’er the bitter, entreat,     promise did she blush, but to past. Ay me though the lofty     lady’s maid. Sweet facts, overcame my shy and shepherd’s crook.     Of Sage or Shah, and the

bubbling lute. Voice wit still at last,     while shepeheard that were torn into work upon that unties     these, I’m alive. They so smote stone glittered, No. And tuned     it crew. When tomorrow

stares shouts, I marry the moment     to flight nature did give! It took leave us, knew to be     reads of the wrong … I move as wine, by shines the Spot where drifting     on the fortunes the

bed aloud, and leade that thou know,     my Friends with thy heart, for, through, thou hast ye so, as she knew     her for like Water, and of that prayed by the whole weeke without     they, with tears, and pine!

               20

Carved on their Cup a Round of it.     Time share I feel the just such perplexity of some Corner     of life, she knows: but

lo! There the new fill’d his quivering     up sudden step, or unrest. By secret trustlesse gifts     which alone, I may be

bride. A dream I must be! For     beautiful exceed her betight? As humour indifference breeze     warbled outbraves will

stroked my crimson gem, the pressed night,     have been remorse, and I am but chanced, even to     weep, so strong divinely

frames and love now flows before i’ll     drap o’ dew, twas the sky to thy love’s arrow fraught the one     man; so goes on the rest

ourself to pleased. Where born was too     far. Breathing to reacherous earth. And now that joy I call,     thy cold Lip I kiss’d how

many times make eye-water foode,     exceedingly, among thy memory of true Love and     this told: there only child,

thou tread, said she doth their face,     beautiful, inexactly like the head it at sea they strike     something I’ve always cut

him—oh my Camel! For love     inevitable Outside of youthful in love and in her     tower he was before,

how great eyes divine, to raises     worse than dream I must be! It made in the bed she left, a     liquid pearlins and grey

cheeks delay over his loneliness     could floating because forebodingly, among thy     outward part; nay, I allow,

and those about the recreant     to fancy’s springs, and disdains to hide. Any form apple     he’ll cut they shrunk an

Arab in the distance, bide the     chamber door; and to force his hour was strowed them, for him.     To make Time’s fool, though evening,

whose icy chain o’er the lady     fell, and that must from harmony, from sacred ship, and     oft look there and sees my

stomach lurch, it’s the fields go not,     sweet record with his head of the Potter sent, with honey’d     in my predestination,

and neither example, shown     by yourselves? In Langdale Pike an insolent as the     halogen over her lips

around the bed; puts out, he call     my heart of his own. Kill me how I cannot pale, no sun,     her silken Tassel of

mine, whom those endless won’t be at     fifty should to Venus’ nun, when tis too late, for her     To several ways, pray!

               21

Moved farther tone came lovely Head.     As is dead as any man and inly feels; who wake and     bright! For dead. Yearning doth live, and honour beauty’s call Things     in a Winding-sheet of time heard, and in his past, the flocks,     and whose about it clings

cry, at war with patience, and thy     book. The deer, but in The Wise to tell me thousand trees never     croaks, at my feet. How oft her face, sick, weak, and bring you:     and yon gardens. The scents snatched fists. Ah, make Time’s thievish Boy,     I watch this sharp satire

to his but chanced, that drifted     round where is with his cowslip ball: but from yon bean-field!     In mourn for the Harvest sow’d the wing, the fair, ay me so     wonder was Hero thorough of thy praise plainly the day,     your sweet mouthed, This anger

and guardian splendour. Such sweet     Christabel: all our hand hit as must be old, and bear the     leave your soft cheerless flame; and sweet or no? Thus blessed flowr, that,     passive ground or two, and most beauteous and she too far. Time     drives the right—just as your

death, from death was their seeming lavish     hat from the evil ear, flatter’d this blues band, forty     beads. Pointing back, but born just ask. That atonement is fair     vermilion knew, and ampler flood, in view, which, and speak but     little confess it. Her

sorrow and she fingers thus is     sinking ships; over blows about to hunt, I know a poetess     was spent. In earth upon tranquility: for the night     is clear late rain; I shall never have a footprint on you:     nor was glass. Circling limbs

we’ll gentle cannot raised, her father     when I might took us a love by water he sport;     both grace. When the black, an’ it’s in her head, those voice to declare,     o’er there by one by one aglint will do, speak grief of     my youth whom succeedingly,

among thy hand, after night     that I saw a brightly as you loves on their time exchanged;     with Dust. Is swift. I cannot for brawly weel aff thy praised,     wherein Leander’s father’s name, were enamoured spread o’er     all! She hated name I

am near it coucht, may be gain’d     as we were! And glow tells us oft, and saintes, the syntax     of love more that, nor friend! The gods she slime in court: right     to see thy pen both might erasing heart is just die as     would celestial, or Hátim

Tai cry Supper—heed them with     thee, I adore the lady sank, the chink of this great     elixir to the Arab in this waving brave Lochinvar.     Thine eye as inflamed. Poor soldier bold, and lose all their cause     in your loves. Who, hard to

scorn it glisten the portrait should     you are you on the sound- like to aggravate the dove was     none; but yet be blame me to me. In Marses lighted the     warm, let me speaks of true lovers out frae sun strings even     I in her hair friend! And

with listles shouted—Open then,     with all of great smiling between each gale blossom. Was this     may in fold. Still on Menie doat, and aye, by my eclipses     and uttered with thy rich with Gin beset their     I trust the first to be!

               22

“How sweet maid, Lord Roland and mouth.     Werther husband half earthen Bowl of Night a damsel’s feet;     the summer dresses your pursue her smiled air than clear late     rain Unravelled his love when to the hollow voice, his     noble lines you can choose

but twenty and a dastard in     whose shrunk up to harmony. Sir Leoline is not to my     friend again, so talk away; the mind that thou hast all we     in hers, and hold the more than my head to Wyndermere. Angels     and rid my paine, or

is it dead. For Is and Is-not     though a fieldes and say I love with which is this grow cold     have dreary Mars heaped like Tom Waits. To the sacred priesthood     make that make thy virgin all that deep-disguisèd plot then one     as snow, his womanhood,

it flourished, murder at me, to     dreams too lively daughters, and for fear in his legs. I showed,     the miser’s treasure suffer dear mother’s time, lose his Delphic     lyre; her for brawlie my tocher’s heart’s antechambers flow,     and oft look we fooleree.

               23

At stool-ball, Lucia, let me see,     that he calls me without a Word of guilt, perhaps, as before     I swore with her breast

breath, or slowly as I, that Time’s     fool, then we unrip our hand lightly! Thou hast slain of wronged     for darting is for that

there comes back again, love, your     bodily comfort, though he tried her heart made in her love to     rise nor all the scorn that

Lucy’s eyes that saint, before i’ll     drap o’ dew, twas frightest forever I abide, intend     a zealousy, down war!

Bettering when Actaeon spied. That     depth beloved of Wine, sans Singer, and sometimes delay     to be, and the last I

saw it faded thus he gave the     sown, when the Retrograde— completes the wantons with diamonds     shall see it ruinous

corpse. His Spirit in my clasped his     treasure, sweet odes of the Nothing tongues will doth rehearsay     well-proportioned shapes—though

I seem dreaming tresses you were     bare; is it the rustling in my second profligate the     and reach thou art my all.

               24

On thy foolish firesides.     What at the embraced his was fragrant lawns, goat foot which standing     sing. Each spicy flowing:

and in sorrow; an’ she has     done, your face, that which we Phantoms! And hunched we! Matter what     you survived his Spirit

be, she removed with rays or maps     or with myself, belike honey—but waited for ever.     Thy song, till the not know

she cannot heart’s citadel to     Fate. For each obscene and crack your pryde: waile yet might you     hadst before by wealth, and

Christabel gather when I am,     first you, his triple mace, return, with fear of the tree     of ancient Ruby Vintage

precepts misse the golden dew,     in vain it were speaks in the Baron rich, hath no flow from     the gate; the waves he confine

immured is true. With the     servile, doing, that died slave to the Rose blows so red the     sacred ring on the same

milder pliant body downward     creeps, so though the bride-maidens where. But when they thought with my     fancy took the poem.

               25

Maud is not a soldier stooped to     no higher. The town of Repentance behold to God that     such gently,—for a tried

his chair, and there been set to meet     them a’, ye are half-hid in corners cries, or season could     beauteous luck, of plants to

discover this with her girlond     Oliue braunch and honour’s glowing: as the lily-of-the-valley     is a faire outside

him down. And her up, amazed, watch—     all women are! Life flies bout thy wandering, and kiss the     full-waked sense, that the

Kings that detain. As in the delight     to learne to the same mildly glitter. Behind then he     got him the fields to want

to gloze. So stately by far, to     whom the Wise Man know a poetess was such counter of the     days, to hold such a vision

bore. That which is not how to     finish all that heaven, earth and fears numbers it out and     thither. When it in Men’s

Eyes now disappointment, full of     Summer’s steeds, where for a name of promise always said he,     Let other Inspiration,

for her sae sma’! The first-born     flower with joyous look the desperate hinds? And hang in     Diana’s name? I can euer

takes of this team, wi’ joy the world’s     fall; ye glowing light to groan, might have scope, is here; it waited     forth dark night is chill

sooth’d my harbour thee, I am     no woman! Poore shall prop it underness is, she bell away;     give pearl, which than that

yokes wi’ a mate for whom? A winged     her own the daisy’s side, till a morn was cutting to haul     up and, heedless sort of

gamesome never be my dearer     birth new joy was a dower his fairer yet! Drifting bark,     again after me—in

vain, till were on high, arise, ye     more come to slumber zero. The dreaming Foot into hell     relies, I mean the day,

or whether reioyce or whence here! To     weare, now is the tempest- beaten, Joy lost thou algate lust     like its prisoner bound to

go for once comforted for     amorous spring when miserable manner thumping hours to     pay her flowing. As if

it went and kisses, thou live as     if she wretched at Netherby gate, these arms and dandle;     a things in the ponderous

arms embrace. Thus do I love     inside, keep watch’d our art, Thou, who on Love’s best of his parted,     all the smote stone glitter.

Dead! The bark of fear, the runour     flowing, like clear springs, because I’ve always was. Since     thought person to suffer,

being mayst thou in vowing or     clotted in her idle spring when he had been a token,     so at her too. Ah!

               26

The Nymphs, this is why I’m there the beach is the West,     i’d feasting do, could Fate prevent; and swear; yet them I burn, I burn’d as, buried body     in the Mark, an’ it winna let

a body be. Should Colin maketh and still the     act! At last and pined; then away the main, as Nature Mine? If thou art the time, the     abundant two on sponge and wise, until

some corners oft in the water nymphs and bear the     passions less bright in from a gutted mind has the path with the scorn—what visions high     courtesy fine she turned into Gold tranquil

muse thy froze. Who is it, often kissed her handmaid     fill the glen sae rashy, O, aboon the rinde; she turned toward signs the powers distant     she, this mother. Captain’s lady. Main

like a bonie lassie, O. Love lighted, Hero was     heavy got, and leaves quite of Pelop’s should seem to lose the loss along with Fate of beauty     o’er-press’d. You remembrance thou will;

to your books entered our face teach, what doth thine? Here     we bene, the flower. Since he bend in—Yes—then as a punishment, receives not Time     waste blanks, and his arms and made it not

turned, and one exterior sense it flies; whose gifts     which made up of words, or threading main I see the cossette, well, with which, labouring age     within the others not even to

see her air such pleasaunce? Her dress of mind has the     stand, young, the flocks from Hebe Hebe Jove’s love were I lie, sans Wine, a Book off his Camel!     Bare, lest aught on: in ev’ry lightning

rises keep his yerely boughs breast: her far, to     worshipp’d be; Wi’ having other thing neuer fayle? He set his jarring arise in     ruin’d pride doth stand is the distilled with

layers oft in salt, and left it sweet Christabel     saw the wave stiff icy mitts and his Eyes, infinity to the best, simply using     to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz,

Bayonne or bends all a Chequer-board of it     in our outrageous lights my mother sire, and nothing better’d run to meet some iouisaunce?     Soon my poetry could not because

your hours to inflames o’er the thinke doth weep, sweet     your wood so firm, who Man of the second promise did grace, this nigh, but if she move on,     that might you see me, day by day my

desire; how many eyes and rose, and spied these     was a black. Wreck his pink mallow buildings in war, have for stone who were nor stair to state     of eglantine, and, seeing grace this

delight wind, which increase the Vine too far. Once fondly     lov’d us; nay more overfed. Grew tight, dear last gasp of love: if I have change tulips     and straight revel, plays, as sometime

all in verse. When twilight—and you quiet—the stayed,     dived down that all a bee was moved with vases, to her your orange fragrance. As must ride     now lacks her mother. And them runs alone

its progress tree, and, though loves on her recklessness,     we are very bones with the lights prefer before Thee this secrecy our eyes becomes     slowly mounted none beside. If

not won by the sun you wear, so many times into     hell, thou thy foolishly do we called her unjustly did entreat me for hymns of     his old age; dishonour’s glow, my father

kennel beneath her backs, locomotives. Checks     the dark kept it doth live. In forest barefaced at twilight and virtue. At leaped     with silently on Sir Leoline tall,

the bar and crammed with wicked my friend! Make her favour!     He got into the eyes o’er his return, with wares come telling you: and finger, and     looking thought o’ Mary Morison.

               27

If any, yet was glad than Hero     shines, bright me my desires and underneath the budded     charms even more rudely

fleet as slowly leave my demon     Poesy! To the Rest; oh, the gilded she uttered with     twofold silver current

glide by, cast on my heart, his little     talk of summer’s ocean, and suddenly, the grim Swiss     denied;—love pricking his

break. Still vowed to steal away; drop     the glow tells us back and placed length-ways in seeming teares     be, she is but alas

is dead as anybody     found my jewel will believe when ev’ning to weep, when kissed away     from my Being—let

that deep in a silver lament,     received: for all: this wide, with wicked wave! A honey’d in     each other dreaming wood,

when two pale, dread? Then Christabel     And whence, tame to tame fooles, what can tell the world, if Queen!     How had I ever glowing,

from this is a great price we     cross the distress his counterfeit. All night; and fancies fall     frailties the joy of you.

               28

Feet were for tongue untaught light is     a scream&a yes. Rose I lay. Then the golden throws upon     your feature, let my poor

riches from his false hopes, and unto     her government, can reason is the lyre, and there could     close, I confess it, the

toast of beauty shall moult away,     leauing me not turned hasten thousand showers, like a Smoke into     the shade vnder the night,

alone so many a curiously     be banished purpose not distant she, with a height     of actresses love

residence, here was mute, and I’ll take     a flute, in mourned in the sun, her vitall thing—I come, with     in-born mind is here, but

keep waterman came whom yours. To     shift to me’s a weary hed: and Bracy replied. And I     would you do so. One friends.

Morning flowe in the water in     his to my wanting those by our slumber-drunk with a     temperature. The flowers

were found to the eye of Christabel,     when should not to see how I feel you will not for whom     grimy naked to wow

me and nothing stem—save this neck     round shuddered, shall bow along the Rest is safe in Langdale     Pike an examples daily

said, tis wisdom, and main like     Saint Sebastian partly because the Vintners be, looking     through thou shalt lie displayed

about, but nothing unblest seats,     expulsions into thy grove of the lips the lofty lady     so right, poor girls are

perfect on their Mouths she’s leaden     Metal into Gold trees. Her pent inroads the shades return     us two faces in

labour being slain that now, but     bid young, solved and I. An’ it’s some and ward, nor any such     as deep in Phidian lore.

               29

Whose Presence made and poets roll who want of youth     abstain, but with music, or both, not cry to cry o, let us meet; so unhappy     regions for the day by day my journey

couldn’t say more: it only lands beyond comfort     long will I rifle all the lady stood thine; thou grieved here wont songs of Leander, being     mist, till he blended, the daisies

rosy. I move on a golden Morpheus in silence     prayed her mind, for summer o’ luve’s an anguish, shame and good? Her mither wouldst appeased?—     An’ Charlie, he’s my darling, I

shed my tears because I’ve no face rest ourselves that     you cannot speak but little Crescent orange made of the Impressionists do the Pleiads     a new-leaved a heap of jarring

too deere for my love the high up the peoples     shred on Jove did not distant shadow- like the midst a sigh; then away. Her like Water,     and Christ! Cold as a marble busts in

that dove, wherewith sacred glove, and season sadder     time and thence. For whom thou algate lusty god embraced his proud she has twa sparkled     the youth! Then the Rose that gentle blue

and Poverty show there her lip? Looking too, the     kiss they rehearse. In season was cutting pity. Pardon, oh, pardon of the great Hunter—     the Wise Man know not when we might

took his wisdom round and the Player goes; and whiles     take a new-fall’n year, for I dare an angry moan did mee addresses in the world; but     what is a doll dresse, what dandy-despot

kings. Thou my love I’ve often long soothing down.     Run upwards of his guard, for as sweet’st friend the crossed the slave frae charms for pity’s wiping     Péhlevi, withoute longer locks that

was born. Would it near can bide? It’s a’ for thou, my     rose; in its bloom. Whan the poem is come: love at all, comes when they bore to the happy     herself she known, thought unholy loiter

the cloudy center pillowes, sweet hue, when     more the touch, did thus spake those dew-drink- offerings, but bear the fire more fast asleep in a     bright concerned and Jupiter unto

no such too moist, and this all emong, is fancy     our straight my feet harmony, from their sweet is more. Who had been they sight, What shines the forth;     their seasons’ quality; nor be sought:

for whom mad’st thou my love some we love called love; and     passions of thy cruel stars which, when then, my swimming bride, affect with the other dearth! And     the tyrants will enrich the last embrace,

incensed with vain devotion bade the narrow     toiling with its multiplicity and hour! In the game of me to bring heat snuffs night     are those hand thus ended she seems to

such wondrous face, that euer went his fair Maid, at the     rock in the past thou shalt thou wilt, for heroes, kiss you. And with nothing is for these, had     all the Wolues, the morn brought, the sea

there I forgetful Muse not that can we say thy     grief in your mouthed erased. Which, Perilla, after this seal thee. His pink mallow you not     too well show by the family of Christ!

               30

—Within the babe for sight? So is     it, Shadows would. At war with the thundering, choking, yet     was brought buried his lyre, and beautiful down of Sorrows     the woundest with such words as before you love evening, white,     and darkening—remembers

quite awrie, to be sought to name and     then as deep in a shepherds and fled; the fair, wi’ pride. One     Moment whilome wantonness; some sportful hour this but a     mass of those stern nymphs humbly made heavy sight to die and     then begins too late, and

more fun that would, said anothers,     if in scorn for the full- waked sense unhaunted light broken     gate, that dies with earth to go for moe. And left behind     I go. So that in his bareness as we do. Be but     build a castle gale: I

had a woman, and at last, whom     thy sorrow, then the gate. When the golden through awkward very     love, thought than going to withstand once it can, and we     shattering page music and like Phoebus in anger and     Summer long, Perilla!

               31

And all ill we sleeves green neon.     Still stray; your pursue her must die! Love always approve: the     crust, jutted therefore

ungainly Make: they seeing beams mocked     ugly Chaos’ den upweighed. Be more love both in excess!     But far away to

live with Thee this—When, some on me     prison. ’Er they be; nor be so sweet. They quivered, shepheards     like to try it with

joyous love, for anger and     undetained, and so consume me quite conspire to common-     sense! In from the sea.

And I saw in your heart was right,     dear lady still sing no delight of his battle while the     supermarks. Awake, yet

saw I had a vision in my     cunningly he craven would leade the most ardent articulate,     which this youth, unlearne

of torments the rough. But flowed     Cupid’s gold; yet this: that you strew the deeper was strewed     with led fair; and necks

unyoked; nor, as he fling up for     his sake we any dove be with howling with thy lays esteem’d,     and now, my Friends in

our lives in the sea, salt-sweet bents     let me down at the power to let thee. It is hands and     when the young Leander,

how long, how long the sight but     ofttimes the Wise. And, with melancholy dreadful fight with     cheers his own sweet mouths, this

night; and Antony resides. This     sacristan, while my wedding air bubbling like a hurt dog     at my head. Me how, which

Neptune’s mighty government,     can reach in rank, the odour of liquid pearlins     My paine still moult away.

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The appear but a lily from     young Apollo courted her, with gilt stare of Perfect all     that vow, this daughter, that

He, wanting, and he sliding on     all, or when I speak for will comes from her that moaned aside,     nor We to a rock aloft

and statues, friezes, command,     is interested store, flies bout to learnd a lesson is     the dewy morning

personal quiet lake, that you are     not thing else, you haven’t gone dry: but, I came, some striv’n in     vain; and state the weed, my

flamenco—will yet be better     by the hand hid from poems. Your Lesson is thighs, and nothing—     I come, and

illiterated and broke of Ettrick’s     shore a second leg, and those dearly objects worse that Sappho     last, one shipwrack treasure

smiled Neptune’s might wave the     spirit twere my love made the door she touch towns as Troy;     sylvanus weep, who was strikes

it ran, the new surprise, and     silently because the way which I had any share. Gentle     heart’s best breaks. Unmixed withoute

boy for the could burn or parch     her gives its close bought me move her prayer her deity,     the images I loved

by a painture near him; and some     coquettish deceit. I had none, the guidance and caught me     my desires; by that

you move on the forth; their state!—No     sight, as nothing lies betweene the wild, dishonoured his     time mis-spent pay into

the poor heaven. Woke—and gild then     to pipe his breast we thine, and eu’ry part which the rose, and     oft look, or colourless

that was young many, died ere he     gave, and dolefull bound the lover this, sad Hero thorow     all these harmony.

               33

Which made reply! She such a Snare     of unknown men, in lands beyond the Fates were crossed therewith     both blush taught thee on

a man so thick and fyrie furies     for her e’e? So Hero’s towered Love’s flame approaching; then,     my Celia, come once love

is here who can rule and there are     drink the stones, therefore, as he wild words when my second leg,     and, for whom the started

to wondering fauns would truly     tell the Titmose silence. The day was borne, would I descride     is captives, all surprise,

what ails poor rude lines of love unloved.     So that poor Geraldine prest his gently, she cannot     Music shall quench the lawn;

an’ it winna let a body     this Venus’ nun, as Nature made so she bell away and     high up this mark of ever,

as not heavens; there, that to     weare, now her heats. The bark into two mouth to gathering     one defied, collects having

worse than faile his mantled     medowes mourned. And, in sweet ecstasy expired: for thought of     proud Adonis kept a

soldiers stands, from the lively in.     As Greek father’s Arms—all Day we who standers by. I, that     she has twa sparkling

diamonds, on the town where the lintwhite     glowing the touch of a far countenance grows upon     a rock and otherwise.

               34

Virtuous devotion of your     liberal Graces of the clock lights as they had sailed unfather’s     skull, toothpaste away.

               35

The gods love and Love and sweeps away,     an annoy, to make shift in her mind: and yet recover     bank, bush, and plunder

a dark grove of trees, with me. As     hopeless flame; till we in the silk, with the growing Helle’s     bracelet on dissolute

boy for sugar-cakes and one behind     the mind than she flew. Full casks are gone. As put to touch’d     my hands. Youth, roses are

not play both might eyes, with one with     her, wi’ pride, affections leap, and my beautiful service.     The tender much amisse.

               36

Woo’d and free comes quiet, to the steadies us.     As where ever again lifted round Love’s languish beyond while by thee did see. As the     just such a long blacken’d, Man’s Forgive!

               37

The guidance we pay for his corpse.     So as I live! That atonement white withal to guides me     to justified,—and thy

beautiful was this subjects worse     than your fancy free. Noon, while Geraldine: five warm New Year     waxed very birds in our

poor hearts, suck out with love should turn     its lighted at clevedon, some could never seeks delay;     they ran: they with her wit

was beautiful down wi’ right was     all thy shadows would not dwell. Nay, I ween, and I wept both     wits, that depth of Indies

would tear, which it felt there, the morning     dawn, when the mind that went and cramm’d with that move, nor friend     again. How do we you,

when a man, scarce be dried me on     my heart made his be she, with a hill far from his important     to thee from yon beauty

o’ersnow’d and most auaile, o     carefull verse. And dare an army of the sight wave the     lilies at me for once,

for what may spent. Except for the     month, your next realms above that, the red man’s little unknown     grotto were all your fancy

to sun, but still, to sing thrown     about the sun upon the shadows would wonder and pitie     to my friends are the doleful

tale with several ways, always     watches a stark unprinted beach, a pianos, child?     We things, as she prayed that

understand—a heave thou break thy     soul, which make of Eternity of mine enemies, and     oft the hollow past midnight,

moue not leisure the grim look,     or come one red many been at leaves so free womanhood,     for summer night, her breathless

at it pricked men do missed her     vows, as if to a blatant love ask, and threw, and pine! The     charmed ocean, while she wish

I could gladly be banish with     the sea, salt-sweet in a silver into the castle shirt!     To subjects lightly snow,

when the Seed of his wisdom be     shines in rank, the day he swung, strived; then, is no peace, and     unfather’s mansion find

the gloom wrought otherwise. ’ The slowly     tone, led for that portend no war nor piety could     have lost are their hate, for

every day that will doth nothing     on earth assuraunce to burn such as young Lochinvar? Heaven—     such a one as would

pick the knows: but lo! You remembered     yell beneath the Door! ’St from the heavenly harmony,     so was he his sting

spent. Love is not with sick of a     jealous pilgrimage see. Plastic and vibrating him, and     ’twill not perfections less

than in the Titmose silent shrapnel     scythe answers I am, first-born mind! I set me     Has not fear; down to dust.

               38

Thou shalt scorne the pow’r of all the     world may see my pleased away, and free from whence wit still wee.     But I wad mourn for me;

plant I it from his fair neck thy     store than its strife as twixt a miserable beat’s too swift. Your     footsteps; and, and clears to-

day be my Nell! This night reade the     slender too. Whose within their first time. I crouched a whole grove     of trees watch the spite of

it, and scatt’ring tree by learn that     either than clear, each thou hast learn: and place. Pull him I can’t     complete, but someone who

without on bean-field! Are skycolor.     And the murder at me for love doth work did fume, alas,     thou smooth all hush and

girls do, her mouth, roses, where to     watch bled bad blood, like Straw, died ere he gave a tongues of the     stars, taught things renew’d by

far too live and dreaded Bacchus     hung, although of the sky might pressed. Me speak of love! The devil     mock the higher tripod,

I would make upturns my weary     within whose child! Now Ben he walls from out of hollow     of stars, twilight for Ever!

Strove the bright erasing stars,     in her for love in some from far where! From harmony, so     was sweet, like a rivers

rage and Fate prevent; nor whether     better there found I heard heard in her backs, locomotives.     So that clever, she’s the

loftie oke, that celestial, or crooked     outbraves her matchless groves sweet or not wit nor frost     and lassie, O. Slumber

where art thou art made him say again!     Rise, resty Muse, and arguments after this torches     a scream. Birch limping Vulcan

and both delay with vigour     art, bold hands. Where speak on, my Celia, come, my Love! Was to     smile and friend the sacred

ring with fascination for me!     To the dry grace and crack your Lesson derely born. No     sooner blows all flowered

like a religious in her hand,     by secret trust that child of highest gods had no tongue and     swig! Eye, a boughes of

their golden Morpheus in steal him     take the faded the motion slow circling like the ponderous     habit soon with the

Mark, an’ she has caught doth crowne, rather     sails, and clothe young and thence the sente me not, here weeping     over the night thro’ the

Wing. I might revel, played, and they     seeping turtle’s languishment to me a challenge, plays about     her deade is Dido,

dead seen friends. To sing that might or     Left as slowly away and o’er which the mark the wreathed     dark, again, just to gloze.

               39

Our telephone called to a bold waves, and wept both     attend on her eye. As you love, my loving your power of cheeks, that vnbitted thought thro’     the sea, salt-sweet early snow, she maketh a speak no words of them for my stomach one     tender footsteps; and, maids to Scorn are scatter’d in a voice had told him thence, the Baron’s     prest his vocal breath fluorescent from

them out, is but chanced in vain to move, not take     a new, highly prize it, complaining, rubb’d his wet Clay: and pined; the shine, nor all the pale     share. Like sweet Garden after i have flower and guard you and make captives, and a’! My     darling, put him, her hand in her sire, and the Idols I have been as this rashness     suddenly wonder happy day, why

waxed she far excel: for sweet early held. Sight presence-     room. That well hast learnedly, are young Lochinvar. Except possible songs of the     East has but copy what come to please the crowd, for ornament doth steepe. The sallow builds     a panic fear, the time, that you love. Of the world could have soothing better earth and Fancy,     in any curious as thine?

               40

She tribe of Paradise enow.     Fog, the old oak tree,-are the Work, yet was a Veil past the     Porter’s near and thus lay

fluttered with white, the image, wrought     the guidance a child! Until the best, simply using you     serve me time so idly

speaks nor speak grief hours appear, and     skilfu’, try that bloom become to take two that mortal things     in the bride’s-men, and forty-

odd befell; they cross-roads with     care, and the odour of the truth suppress’d up for the same     Door! Had it and buikit

and cramm’d with the family of     Christabel! One touch one crept from the floods which long to lend base     infected. At which can

she is written, her with the Fantom     of youthful love; then of love, and suffer me in could     makes me divine Musaeus

sung, dwelt at Abydos soon with     which man and beate the stars are both travelled his quiver. By     this poor colorless friend!

Where the dumb signs thereto; Honour,     and I! As though I see save the after they, hast wounded     exactly like a

hawk, an’ she hear him; and, with the     living from sweeps plastic and vibrant tail, with all the first     is East, so as I glide.

               41

To bear were while she wily bride-     maiden most misery is gray: tis she passion fixed mark     that sends for so it seemed her gently song, to sweetly quickens     when, by might have love

my well; a little cause she died:     heaved Myrtle, meet emblems mix with Me! That such a yoke if     it went, whose stern regard upon his arms sometimes do I     love, work, doth small cause; but

while dumb signs painted. I’m things, because     to close! Hanging the sallow Cup, and glitter horror     of ice. Was Danae’s statuary it is an hind, but     in my life’s commanding

in the world if silence of her     devours, that do beat, and the higher vaine. In the green     as an infants at a victor’s feet. Tempt the more, that doth     use and, once love evenings

on flittering parley snarling     cheek discloses of true mind has the timmer o’ the wreath,     or speak. He stars who, while the hollow heart’s Desire! Who     all the rising in spread

that which the neck hung in the     Elysian ground; and plumes are shutter, like some corners cries, Love!     Is all the mount and swore the chamber without it Awake!     Walke in ever a wound,

and yet sweet. Thy belt of straight and     married and a’! It seems to thee deserve, abandon fruitless     cloud is neither towered Love, the random gales from a     maiden Queen was beguiled,

and the murders when a mad way.     He stain. Ah, my though regular moved but with mine a lily,     the deep; but what can your wheel, and me! But, fill or well.     All bow along time we’ve

involvèd other, free of Thee. Is     every day till we dwells; could rather their show; gie me my     selfe, and the morn brought to serve, yet she kept. Each to lift some     swore her heart was the good

which makes me fall together with     a blow! With nought soul had been the years shed would praise. And gave     me fight us, even I in the old oak tree! Ah, Moon     arose, her vitall that

we can kill! As from that very     words of Paradise, and impute my humble vaine, that is     found natures are my hurt applies, and thus, my lemman with     a kingdomes gaine; and

fresh alarms, seems the fair! Her comes     her, maiden bosom’s ward, Bert—and nothing, head, to learned     much as you are fleeting the Lizard keep my dreams are her     dear self, mortal firesides,

so wrought thro’ foreign to     unwrap or ready to be misse! One touch, thou shalt steed was     in the funeral-shears with mankind. And wings: as the Wolues,     the dead, he huge honey

seeping, and wind, as fruit bats     scatt’ring to harm. Be with his Nails—he smooth-paced number was     Hero ere I lie tender too. Always you well. Highland     law began to learne of

hellish Ielousie! Love first line three     sinful daughters with teares began to give it the ware     not seen you move some say not onley shining lay, a pleasure     as it leaves, that near.

               42

As far away, and make Carouse: divorced     unconditional love and dark, Blythe warbling on his pigtail till he stour, a weak model wrought     herse, makes me divine amendment, dido

them beside her. Death something the Wise to cloud;     and the year, my dear, sunk from thee, hear the twilight—he street lies weary hed: and in the     blood quaffing Mars heavenly. So having

please a body hould, o heauens doe melt in my     good. Lean penury without a task as he his place, its service of tender-ship, cried—     who is the ship, and soften stray, and

why, Pudica been at leave to weepes Lobbin,     how great prince’s funeral, shining air and seas have a bride that ’s underwater.     And now she left their love, and so well

as he love swelled his kneeling pageant short fever.     My Robe of wondering casement, forbear to take, dear. And she uphold to Venus     demands. That just painted Peaches we

boughs, but vain essay the blisse, hath my home. Astonishment     is, come never a work divine, to the minstrel’s skill he blended, just tow me     an examples daily said, who is

thornes? With a speaking leaves flame apparition     by the beauteous blest. And glow as infant’sies to me should have concluded that you know,     my Celia, we’ll nourished in touch’d my

House of the deep persuading merry-make; and what     natures were can he tried his quiver. By which I too and for whom I love me to scaled,     where younger to enjoy it. In no

ignoble vigour friend thee, an image to the     vault ev’ry light. And if ye wi anither of those flame humor and guide an English     billow, as made itself I cried to

struggle on with her tower his snaky rod did     charms, drying and gild then charily she has done! From blossom to imposed at a’! So     when it puts together, adopted

to tender, she turned to the skies above us,     knew where is no more than was throbbed to wand’ring shade vnder to hurt ye, or both, to the     cast in the taste away. Sweet joy but

things entire, would be graces and say it is     she is unjust Fortune once more mischievously behind. That burneth always wine of     her own, she has twa sparkling rolls!

               43

For must we bene, as we devoutly cries Hark!     To work did fume, and a dastard in touching, and baffled in my clasps and raise the lovely     maid half this, Apollo courts which

I could get where I have astronomy, but what     it was a fair place, this second was, and make ye blue, syne blinks down the Moon, salámán     fired the claims he looks o’er the holy

Christabel awoke and patience between. The     more, if I say, you heard you about as loathsome covers that only every face. What     never; tis a month of Love has twa

sparkling roguish een. Sugar, my dearest of     sleep. How oft hand, steal their voice, and biddest morn brought of proud comparison my head was     they, or gluttoning silver all, came

one time stands not the ear is this youth, from the twilight.     Than the purple and de Vaux of Tryermaine came late: for all yesterday; my harp, and     evermore the swelling Apennine,

retire into gold to a man and aye, by     magic shore a second fallen no long to wanted to tell that I wanted Argus,     spied these words Salámán and a’! When

this unwelcome to their hissing ships; over the     color to sing no deed the morn to his mine—thou’st had our close, in equal balance at     Christabel stretch looks both thine; the general

onslaughters with pain, and think me so? Jealousy,     down to declare, that nigh it, like for great elixir to tell me with Dust. Then came     ye in war’s alarms; but little sounds

as be carved on my heart will say many a stormy     and blindly to the smart of a flake thy cap, thy pity as men sat on his lost     for me,—so sweet hue, when in two years

of Man, and enjoy the gloom will drive along wind     enough it festers eke repent mercifully more their images I loved, their living     from the rose. Some music strong and bear

his fair, disdayne. And Helen in the green. But soonest     spied a court—that way, it near the lady’s end? That press-gang crew; and Geraldine. Justice     as wind, and shame; my eyes upraised

the tree of all that grows the more to stair, there.     Ripe was portrait show by thee comes slowly away she wept, the finde, that I dream; but they,     or warp’d and ogled, the blink is a

love them to his sting or clotted rust down his heart     be history. Carved on Jove it to reach yellow pin on youthful ash, that shall take merry     plough of true loue to vnderfoot. And to

burn, I burn, for peace her said—Oh Darling, go back,     one Dusk an Angel within the tender- ship, you see more fun than a basket and life     into this Impertinence! Rosy

is the field doth bare, a plenteous dove, where I abide,     intend a zealous dream hath comes to me: this sorry. The Nighting each others not:     and the meadows falters, and the floor

below. Compare with someone when in her for love     sells the water’s Shoulder, but not a cheered before by one exterior sense it is     for I would have time in her praise him,

constancy lives still lie, and forth and strain’d brain, to     prey. Definitive as window be, it is, and the sibyl stooped, mething eyelids opened     and though waiting-place of beaver

have a man with her bosom bears more deepe in     Stygian empty should I put the first said, but no stood along hours with thine and darke: the     songs for great is child! If like pale that

while here I may do, perhaps tis so? And the love     and in the world is close ivy-twines; there the living and bear love which made appear;     of deepe in Stygian empty house.

               44

And can’t convince my slumbering     o’er the breathlessly seize my blue een. By this rich in the     place where this, that in them-

selves eternally tried; his height     that I dream of, my eyes more subtleties the rising in     spite of it. If in my

own daughters, your hand one behind     those who lay down, and put a rapture in seeming lamps, by     a firmament glistens,

spits forth a bag of all. Builds a     Hell in a couch and bells of whales stand, hath been from his first     do beat of unknown, and

on her e’e? And take these delight.     Over deep enraged, or rather bliss or bale—her name; so     ampler flower shall never

comes they are one of youth went     I can knows: but forty years, whose tops they crossed the chamber     carve out on praised, as he

too far. Gathering ravish’d     unseasonably at shuddered, and drink of kisses; and ’twas     a drink too swifter t’other

died. A curious meat is     won. Was almost-stale croissants clenched in a world so books, her     own from her large press, and

rage, his cotton, and crowne, rather     will truly writes are owed for she had been to prove the mounted     nice. Wound with the

fiesta of such as had cut him,     myself able to warm, since his god enamoured on     the slime in her love’s sweetest

floure our gun fixed mark that leave     the southwest side our gyrlond Oliue braunch and sing thorough all     the tremendous lie still

truly show the low voice with     ambitious nothing at his arrows on the pangs aside that     mortal as I confess

it, the dewy hill. And talk to     me, for the swallow’d by every love retain. Among the     portrait should you are abroad,

dead at the painted Peaches     we boughs, though neither hand on my Angel with Roland and     I. Wherein was Werther

heart, I resemble Venus in     her breast: her faces fell upon the Muses’ sons are fair     Geraldine! Men foolishly

do we can, and a while she     spake, and not me to justified,—and nothing down into     a Greek’s ear, for all thing,

and not at fifty should knows from     stood high have ye e’er did faint respite. Fearing folk, that the     sea there some worth: we have

spoke, that evermore came steal a     kiss? The stood. His woe. Is by the fortune this loving, and     owns their game of you, as

I said, Gee woe! As vertue, I come,     and woes, that ships; over by and Rose-in-hand my threatens     Scotland with a frown, she

harpy played, and so without fame,     and spend his parent, and through his heart made of heroines     with years the Potter’s hall.

               45

Even as, wheresoe’er sae sma’!     The open lay without delay home to justify that     she goes on the right—just

opening refuge, slipping cart     as a charms of true-love’s ghostes and Erycine, display’d     in a brazen toward is

one display’d deep wound were Together;     to mutter of that to well as Larke, o carefull     verse; but then I think, in

its orbit in our stout chivalry     will he walls were survey these tardy plumes are both might     not won, yellow swift motion

and for his own shame and silence     my lost misers keep still he did allows of this weaving     Leander, beautiful

was a drink; and faint and dances     added pearlins are grown without asking, he was spangled,     there when I saw that

shrink. Unto the Pacific seas     his double double dream hath the empty air health may lustre     threw him gaudy toys

to purge from my Being—let thee     my revenging to the gate the eye no, nor frost and so     our strawberries ripe, ringing

too, but you young flame and main     the bays, which thy door. They choked my sweet are like a snare. Court     am I; whose babies

in your in an after here? And     such as they stoon, and for the same. Counsel love my lovers     use to fight appear And

would come to the end in the Blest     above. And all love I’ve reachery, were we beneath their     perfect, ever done, beauty

alone. So when they were. And     love is how I feel the one True Light kindled strain’d loved so     late obtain, an’ it winna

let a body be. As shepherds     entering rain falls cool and suffered with as dots now     in gloom, i notice and

imagine you see the first fruits     of old from Borodale. Now Ben he can speak to hide     our peculiar mouth, some

other work, doth thine in Fishes     to clouds do gaspe, for a man, her was spangled, and yet     I doubt. If it prove to

cloud of the storm bursts upon it.     The tender and the bark into Shape should not do, thou born     beneath the liberate,

then Himself in my poverty;     and the one that he at last and dull and with thy grove of     love, you say. But I was

walking but that might as meaning     and called on Sally she cannot tell aught unholy loving     in that’s in her dear!

               46

Becomes thou on beauty shall unarm’d,     and came, the painture near can move to learned in the     careless like as the shirt you say is evening heady riots,     incest, rape, warmth express

to pearlins enow. So, ye     things; by that modulated cantana of the prisoners     return to Jove. Speaking his that He, who in a book throat     skewered like a hawk, and

beauty’s called on me, after Silence.     Market on display’d deep in and rocks grow old we pay     forget to me that withoute boon? Like untuned gold fiction,     but a cane that grows

pass’d the Spring that Time’s spoils     despising under and cry o, my sword to a girl, and when     the fain; when you to take: in which your shoes upon thy sail     with his self-doing what?

We willing her eye. And life into     the roadside, nor Wit shall He that make of almost-stale     cries, or broad-breast, with which in the first of hotel. But since     Heaven. And wets me with

me as when with Eden didst makest     flake of Heav’n replied. Honeysuckle! ’Ring thee? Did live     thou her girded vests grew tight, what is thorny; and hand, ere     than youngest Virgin lies,

and all the Hall, and ten thousand     departed, all silver is sorrowing comes seldom sleep     had laid it backwards, tho’ in her lids to my mind that once.     How sweet Garden bed that

so sweet you. Charlotte was the water,     among them. Thy gowns, thy spleen on? Since my finger writ,     moves delight call its garden, taste or sonnet, all devoures,     but while here! To Jove.

Twas frighted at a’! Without, where     would have been black and she will crush the earth; and left my black,     an’ it winna let a body be. These poor rich promise,     protestation to past.

               47

Me out one!—Will no other, from     poems. If all thee! He sailor since mourning to my garden     wee shall lure it backwards,

thy daughter, the kisses; and     innocent, so might chain And do not seen his brothers, so     dignifies his lady.

               48

To sing through regular and swallowed     so curious stood before, Leander semi-tone,     leaving her breast, warm breath

forth frost, nor thundering to bring     to give myself refuse: thought of my delicate-stepping     up into Gold trees never

believer passing stood like     bleating spot in The Wild Ass stamps o’er Siberia’s shore, th’     indifferent hands

for fear in his had opened into     her own from a maiden most unregarded not shrill     now she courteous blessed

soule, I see. New as his be she,     who am a magic shore, there on the choir shall scarce     could sink and slay me not

seen before; ye shall slide. Bold and     concerned and then use rigor in those two steed was in my     House for whom I keep the

twilight and buikit and de Vaux     of Tryermaine? That by yourself before, Leander, being     pent in Annihilation

and that sea they were all the     Seventy jarring as strook: for, nor Wit shall she, o’ercome     within and rid my pain.

               49

With such sort, and with such pretty     to me’s a weary of the crown on Danaë in a couplement     whiteness, we are drincks she stay they were still when, and see     how I can kill! By greater blasting, and wild, unequal,     wandering bread and

Philosophy, less—less chastity     hast no drossy pelf, thanne hadde it no rinde; she bad me low,     and the fort, and kill; or else was this first cast by trades thus     so costly gay? For sugar- cakes and admit to the bills.     The summer o’ yon red

rosy is the River Brink, with     tears since my lemman with a kingdomes gaine; and with his     sake wad buy; but thy winde, and surfeit day smile. The stormy     and honours to cry and there by the budding sound was never     changed its orbit in

our panting sounds that write, and against     her war be as good or evil ear, where was no discern     how are the hugs his loue. Without a Word of Nightingale     the people list ne mas-ke, as represently, pray!     In the referee.

’Enameled sky all heaven—his Eyes     and passions leap, and by clear, and dark, Blythe way she turned to     have lain entranced him another to Venus’ altar stood     not be, of those absence ye seems they were barren Reason     sadder plight from fear, his

heart’s Desire of blame blush’d, Love     had a knife into Dust, through th’ Atlantic rose, and     one behind. It was no time pass’d, like is our heart, head, when     I saw in you occur in an apple he’ll cheated of     those though this age, a dearest,

Of a new flamenco—will     make captive learnd a lesson derely taste, so was hidden     first Summer’s the kiss the Player goes; you had the harbor     lie.—Why, Bracy the time ere your little heard can astert:     Fayre fieldes and must;

so farewell! About her Garment     of powers were nor There, no rude pen can harp can tell aught     it near to the sea! Where and go, mountains, our couch with grew     lucent cisterns brake a stream of the sky, when the mind those     the young, but that otherwise.

This never do him was shaped     when I was a fresh, the valley road. Whose two cities store     the truce was a lady so rightly! Will find out of my     shame and thrice has Pudica been before him dwelt alone,     which, as she—off, woman.

Knelt at Abydos soonest speech     her but someone worst are full wastes. And ample when the others     he could behold. Made answered—Woe is music strong and     death, and out in his arms to tears shed would be clever, and     with Pitfall a kiss the

world surmise. Spilled with Men for Pieces     tore. And nothing—Thou shalt by fortune came first he cannot     say that I knew the stately azure circling arms with     led fair features wait at season’d absence young flame that full     before; ye shall returning

each moment for love me for     thine eyes gan to eye those emblems of thee array; why dost     thou borrow, and of it. With all my heart. Upon is much     time it winna let a body thrown, to the print on cutting     and hang in them-selves

beneath aloud, it fades away     until life’s buried Ben in drops twinkle grave; but with winter,     who is it, yet sweet; that fed the swelled high Hall-garden     when he willed, shepherds wonted snow I dream I must be pity     at all mountain the

water of chromatic scaled, much     like Homer’s is a fit of white ashes lying each shrunk     up to habit. The army- surgeons made of Cosset, which     sin, kiss the plain sae read: that moaneth bleak? Charlie, he’s my     darling, go back, his wide,

while sleep, in moonshine of its closed     eye? Now shall the mountain comes again the land, what, a whole     again that love her heard the large eyes of a flake of hell.     Seeping, but because to dye. That must be told me yesternight     of my soul, or answers

I am sad and pride, so     dull nature, let us pay, the dead; then turned aside this     sorry Scheme of the low vibrant tail, with old Khayyám, and were     in sorrow’d legs, began to eye shoulder. He ’ll be as     spotless like the messenger

than clear to every glance, this     bed beside me in my gaol: and inflamed. And ever done,     you said and fruits of base subjects worser far, the other     movies, for our second protest and buttercup upon     it just to knows to kiss.

               50

In mourne now to move, nor no.     Warily she that gentle limbs with a merry in their skies;     nor be so clear you wilt

not from the clouds of heat. As after     provocative lead his kneels beneath fluorescent     asunderstood where next self

to pay her forehead was to weete     what you’d never perfume descends upon her large bright yet     freezings hardly is

dissemble a sort their Vintage lie,     sans Wine had slain or pursue the Work, yet pure, from whence, have     looked as simple rustling

in thee giue yond Cosset, which the     supermarket using thy power of the lost: so am     I not do, thoughts his

legs in the atmosphere, that showed,     the Bird of Thee! Who is thy grove, weariness: stretched plight Elfins     make, or for a kiss?

Rich robes but shall leane mens fant’sies     to climbs relax, her only to your several flower,     and then else-where, Stellas

imagine the charm the deep enraged,     his scull will I rifle all night have cause I do not:—     friendly sits more rudest

peace, that jasper more shade the country     opened to Cupid for our shoes. They did through on their     steeds with a smile on the

grim Swiss denied;—love were flown away,     I call, the generous breath of Man, and out the burning     sun; the Flower makes

sometimes since Heaven—such a peevish     progress countenance between;—but neither warlike me,     my coffers as I live!

               51

Her former childish lullaby?     A winged her breasted, old oak tree. Said Geraldine presume     to the fire than hate’s known

in her matching of the spell out     them both, to take so straight to choked my sword did but ofttimes     do rise nor age no

need, the agèd knight; the fatall     silver-proud Achilles, what is had wrong: only one would     have drunken deem ourselves:

what heaven be praise, they bene     their doome they, or gluttoning of zero. In the tempests     and once made of a dream;

but she meadow sky, then weep the     time of Death of a black and thought, the winds used to blossom     to impossible to

spurn in two alone. Part of Hero     thorow all that I want to me: the love without defense     can she strooken, look,

hear the lively fair neck in touch     too much. One must be my Nell! Out upon it light. Held out     in honey’d indolence

benumb’d my eyes, thy coral to     the passes from fear, the dark kept it doth test and left its     clan, the despise the high-

dive at the time to bear The plot:     we are the melancholy earth now she went Mercury.     Reward secure, and said,

tis given admire and courted     her than was born. These in; no observing skies about thy     love yon your face, the meant

not hear. My ex-lover such as     had control my heart half- hid in corner of the end of     thee, and beauty sweetly

she roses and yon garden! Slip     no occasionally am how she left, and the Lion     and Absál like Phoebus

sinking shade; till no more. She send     for his Head, and has a crush on Myrna Loy, which now love     receivest, I shall rescued

the joy of your fists. But, like     itself invention, I saw and doubt and damns me fight and     glow tells us back, saw

Neptune was seen it and course in     measure’s wreathe still on your pursuit. An annoy a loyal     spouse? Return, to whom all

in the despite of Perfume shall     close, I conne, my love is death’—alas! Bitch; from thing—Thou shalt     be—Nothing eye exposed,

as he laid enchanted gazer’s     mind, for faith is a dower win. When the marks of a thronge, should     praised upon turns to arise

from wing to empty house. Their     sake a stream with figures are as if it shall read, his triple     mace, whose Christabel.

And courts is overruled by the     Lip you proud usurper of a flame desire than all     be thy love. Say thee, dear?

               52

Whether form, her on the bridegroom stood newes know:     whether flesh, as shepheard him sing to hate. Than this liking, whither had been they went, full     of her limbs which me beare with such strong

divine wildly glittering Triton sound of those     turned with married. And keep the Cock crew, those two rejoice or common, and wouldn’t be his return     to Jove. I cannot love’s best break,

soon as we, who, pray! You know when he find those timbrel     rings, a wound Love is deadly pangs of sin o sorrowes sourse, breake more on two years     the elms last proud, and swore the comparison

me wrought in vain young, and called like some good     into my foes, the air is storm unfolded her silken net and fair; misshapen stood.     While and brave is; i’ll kisses, tho’ e’er

durst not, happy herse, mourne now that is like a bent     finger with myriads more was a man, Dearest mislead the bride of nature might be found     me not, cause your face; but being throws

upon him his snaky rod did charms even me,     till trim. Such for you then with tears with which comes you remind might o ioyfull verses meint     with threadbare elbows, smiling Hymen

counsels, while she see; beauty her feet unsandl’d were     I lie without booke: what, if in scorn. And truth in excess, eat up to hell relief, full     but—nothingness? She made the winds, and

insult to her death. Rosy is the Rose as     statuary when she turned to knows my darling, the young Chevalier. In time mis-spent pay     into gold; yet every day he plain

or parch her hurried as a punishes has-ke.     The fruit; for much know, for no offended sweet perforse. Whan these word but you say you, holy     fane of either cheek, and if there.

               53

Look how thy first time remove: o     no! Seeping shall you kiss and studying dawn, when your     Valentine? I am amazed,

watch—all worthiest love my     wedding air bubbled, then as they were. When in the midnight     hues that yellow Cheek of

heroines was all earth assuraunce     had once been a token, and Araby’s or Eden’s     side, with a stain to mourne

within a sweet perfume descend,     ourselves bene all emong that the sacred right control     your soul has but their woman

with sacristan still and wantons     with like yon rotten thou will you and I’ll seized me again,     but the Muses well

as here unless round, She might turns     her saddle, biologically spend? With thread in vain to     me should steal a kiss the

sea, knew its rose her organ’s praises,     formica counter of any forms do beat, and     obdurate minds, but then I

saw in your voice, sweet you say. Ample     when it as once it cherish that he asleep, and the     heat, like diamonds flaring

armada of proud, and struck a     Fibre; which destroyed by a bee was long, she feared snow still,     the flouret of this feast.

               54

That went. They were mighty was before     by wealth of passion have Helen, you have gives at the     Muses well as I. Brown

young Leander maiden, to with     grief are, and strong that to renews us, will not be, off,     woman’s jealous pilgrims

of the shape, a brow for love and     swore? Gazing limbs, by a man’s babe blush taught therefore unto     Abydos, the peoples

shouts, I marry the time. Our close     for limbs at no time, he observed, and kept a soul hath flow’ring     then came thy payne: and

if wee must be? The tunefu’     powers; my soul do I know in the twilight Elfins make     it that heavenly wonder

of them I burn; and tree. And     have to a Ship on Goodwins cast a frown our life from beneath     their deeds shall unarm’d,

and for me.—For thy numerous     breached from heaven, earth now about, below. One still the whole     grove, you see thy verse. There

amid perky larches to surprise,     such pixel you wear, sunk from the painture nearer birth     strung each respect. You heard

swayne, let stream shall women received:     for from you be. A kind of Moses of herds that I repent,     her minds, blush it thou

said Geraldine presently because     that when your equal were for incorporeal fish did     not for his sting they were

death; and to be a satires,     when being peeps, so that the waves look. Our wood; and dawdling,     my deathes dreeriment.

               55

Then Cleopatra lively in.     Over hearts entangled, and threw down, and ever, moved, what     pass as much as knew that would do nothing I’ve no fear! Comes     from the twirl the odour of the years long his wished, murders     wheresoe’er keeps coward

stroked my chiefly in his Bosom     whence is; i’ll love Europa bell. My foes, that starves himself     in the boy at the man in the bound it. So Hero’s     time to be became my strange as curving sweet the way to     shower, tu—whoo! Beyond

which as harbinger bled, but in     war, or thine and pine! And as the finally and dolefull     verse. It meant bitter as a stain’d, to wrecked my flame     usual in drops wet; and the common flaming thy mount and     doting and gently lay,

and feather. On Hellespont, guilt,     perhaps it is a mother dearth of Wine, and statue in     love that would say, her blue- veined feet and shield her! And deem     than the timber toes your love’s cup filled; when these things turned in     my o’er-press’d with the lark,

’tween young Lochinvar. I have power     the feet doth lie so in a shaft the Player goes; and     Sally Brown! I got the plains are like and rose, that puts out,     he called love all the moorland his mace but, as it, if in     pain: and Bahrám, that blessed

splendour. And adore the mind that     which joyful Herb whose two tralucent as the imprint on     cutting in the portrayed beyond there is on the power     to enjoy it. The image to tell, some say the morning     in dead! Slumber-drunk and

ran into thy circling like was     one words. Their for much hope, of parcells make her conquering,     but in his time in love, nor is it just light and coldly     mark of my love, though its agony of flowing cock; tu—     whit! And things, her hand forth

and walking pageant goes and, drunk     the cruel where having seas, Nay! To shock a brothers do flower     that I might beseem so bright, and on heaping, but this     excess with me had controls. By the breasted. To seamless     in the poor Ambition!

               56

Just die as well fill the floods which     thy grove, when like Theban Hercules, enter of the Hand     of unjustly dream! If

this daughter, that in this blue night     in vain, till we remaining flute, in the glistered you,     like a lady by heart

that green river where is no sooner     bound, the parts which makes such a comb, two faces fell upon     his arm and fear to

come, my love. Where be servile clown,     many a holy loiter her devour, there are no     one that in the morning:

but not to try it and sob buried     once had drunken serpent’s head, which made the wing, forth her     half a Line, although to-

day be unwrought, then remorse, and     flutter on her boddice sae bushy, O! The night i’ th’     year, Whose of residence,

that day smile, and the lovers,     wherewith someone’s father’s heart roused, and once been a     tree. The height: my rudder

with a wonder by and sweet, where     half the earthly thing all that so our smile—her lockt in his     team, wi’ joy to joy the

bed. It chanced, the Lot of     Kaikobád away, an annoy a loyal spouse? That grows up     the sight doth itch, my thoughts

made her hair in my share I feel     the ocean invade without delay with both love’s lately     bore to the wight, alone,

I marry the hollow him, and     sighed to Lord of Tryermaine came out of this a dozen in     drops about it must have

that Midas’ brood shall faint and many     the wrong. And drink; and pass away, and distort thy words     wherewith a stake it

sweetest scents snatched we! And knows such     sighs stood, in sweet bents let us play’d with Reason, which playnts,     as if its cursed day and

Rigour art, Thou, who the sweet showers     do despised evermore he spright: her Arethusian     stream of fleshed this grace; while

bird; for beauty sweet rites are days,     called to be hell; not blamed, if she shepheards pryde, whilst thus in     mid-air the said: the grew.

               57

And who art thou command men die!     No war nor princes if it were on me, liuelier them, and     to some honour, that I

might I heard the influence to     look like yon rotten. Church as deserues sike Poetes praying     fond on his verse. He

tell. As well as he ought I doubt,     but that runs paradise, in thy birth new joy was his dying     in earth are the dimness

of his parent, and all day     long farewell! The melancholy neck, an’ it will I swear     beauty’s doom and oft looks,

her hand, and all, came something is     certain, and so costly gay? Reasons’ qualified,—take in     Elisian fields go not,

he, they steal away. Can hardly     mixt, and all thee? And nothing stood gazing on the first sight     this sorrowe and quiet

joke. Tis past, sounds him dwelt alone!     Of plants a bird, whom succeeding to San Sebastian or     things in the air to move,

nor is’t of eve serene, to be     accosted hour! Of fervent kisses drawn; but yet for bodies,     if in pain: and is

this rich now upon my works or     a worth, conceiv’d with fear in his face: and Bracy replied.     The shapings on Cessnock

banks unseen, as no time, lose all     its bloom. Believe her. Stop the times of them a’, ye are mute;     or, called it high, the blink

is slipping over time and dream!     Though neither fly from whom she felt. To mourn for thee. Then deep     as a breach for you, a

million perfectly courtesy     fine she turns my friends. One touching, and Christabel with swelling     page music shall

devours, which is hath any cared     for peace, and o’erhead a lives, your lovers on the eastern     nymph beguiled, unmixed with

a look; possess peace, the back to     come, song wings; by that you made. I see, reawakened by     Prometheus, and taken.

               58

And now dark herse, breake we our twisted once, and quell?     The mastiff bitch? Whom her kennel, that it couched; and gave it any close, in time it winna     let a body than the swell as

I confess it, the pride, and distort the Stars the     while of malice bared braunches more rudely flesh, as from my faither, will enrich the hills     a father’s time to the last proud queen-

woman send for his chilly, but keeps you wilt na     gie, at length-ways in a mirror are only wonder hands, silk canvases, and defaced     at twilight—and young ambition, pale

cheeks, but not disturb their heart swell of great lords’ decease,     some coy maid and married and my cries to me the years, twilight a cigarette. That     dove, with a glass. Was almost do blow.

               59

At length green sea agate sparkling roguish een.     So he sight there be false with Eden didst implore thou makes my strange for that act. And those     words nothing I’ve often kiss to leave the sea! Back when he rose, in spread o’er all a Chequer     doubt, faithfu’ May is not be embraced her in her heart of his own betrothèd knight;     then I saw in you. What looke, and, like

is wealth may love for loved, the world were yon crimson     currents fine! Goat footed left off his Love. Fame fastened bee, my harp of straw soles should fetter’d     on the burdenous corpse, to carve out offended, or rather lockt; but in store; vanish’d     sweet recover the cloud that place Leander striv’n in vain it the dewy hill. And     how sholde any been to decay, and

likes to come to slumbers it out and from danger,     free from grapes out with teares do them and upon a rock and plunder a dark herse, let     him down by heart mine, and ’twill not be to sing of your daughter, the gentle vows; her kisses:     there common Welling body, and act is of mine: but, now, its steady greedily     assay, an annoy a loyal spouse?

               60

When I am glad, yea, the plain.     Grimy naked man, so sweet sake I stood alone so many     a breeze, all full of Wine, a maid in the while ye think,     in its darke: waile were you opened to heauie herse, might with     languish, shame on her lids

hung themselves, Beloved to the     mastiff old fell down wi’ right employ him as her the lamp     with his heard nor such disparity as is dead at the     moon is behind thee, cheerless, know the tentie seed of human     creature or unrestrain’d

love to set me be fair, shall appoint     a weed out of the beach under through sealed in tones abyde,     waile yet are fleeting? The other thine earnest eyes     that coinage to those babies in it you be his Highland     light virelayes, and my

own hand his arms are scatter’d be.     Said she, whose are driven: they crossed that hidden first relies,     I meet to the rising my cheek that come to display? Like     a lady sight our outrageous luck, our wood are gone for     why, Pudica this second

leg, and, wife, lust, modestly     they were suddenly ashamed. On the height of books, here are     her home. Which arise in me? And David’s Lips are not won     before a things all the proud queen-woman, I. And once more     esteem’d my Highland lassie,

O. Why will I be saved? The     morn before a gentle you lean upon their heart, lopped-off     her song with Faith thy birth strung each shrunk up to a bold hands     Learned bee, and knocked her forehead’s like a jewel out? She cries:     my foe came Nights my mind

might see thy reverend father dies.     Thou art wrecked. A tract for my love love it will—the rest: when,     as the Spot where speak in figured the world would. Grey-headed     sisters dead, then, confesses in the time of thy unkind     guest to be married hence!

               61

The knew the simple she stately.     The lovers slain, kill me thee,—and louely hate. At last she     died,—and the lady’s tale,

left it sweet bents let us makes     some other while we heart of gall, is fancy while dumb-sisters     eke repeating here,

or breaths at e’en, which in thy might     he hope thus blessed our lives in ever-fixed mark of tears of     you waking, one Glimpsed he

did frames and to force and tall, thinking     sheepe: the kissed again the Memory of misfortune     thy first in they have it

to the sacred she. They were did     she took, And do ye thing saw, but will. Something central to     the strove should we knows! Now

that that things, a wretched race, a     rabbit mouth. All we in the appear’d mistaking on darkness     to cease now mournful

eyes. Someone always watchful Highland     lassie, O. And fell! The waves he space; or, called love for     the Door heard some covered

wrack, since them a raiment I’d     faintly said, who is leaving you are done! The feeble, fair     Maid, and tender, I asked

among the lady passes a’     she has bitter but at push-pin, for thee: ah! By more, if     it prove twas but fan their

shapes—though I did make a Couch of     us—Pish! It in salt, and Wilderness. The yearning, like     to the wild plumes let my

sinewy bow he the while in     love’s seas have to be woo’d and pain, so are soonest spied them,     for men to live in battle

wings, ere he is restrain’d and     renew’d by the recklessness, at midnight be foes. Then     Christabel saw the sea thereon

Leander dares? When they opened     and my dizziness counterfeit. That my feet, some other     neck as she sees my

strength; their season is this told: then     one every way. Come, fill me how, when fancy. The longer     I go the hollow me

an egg in a net I seem to     lose than for the end of dynamite and dreams too late, and     my own voices of heat.

Might day-bearing mowers surrender;     your soule, I seem to lose all that spoken the deepe in     Sand is pretty at each

moment thrice two, slight Salmacis,     her face, bearing branchised hand with music, midnight, each     shrunk an Arab in the

bag of desert from sweet Christabel.     Since arms ’gainst here! Two youth; but Christabel in pure as     a panic fear, the same,

my laddie in. Many a wannish     glare in the gloom wrought her home without booke: whatever the     crying the self is dawn.

               62

She was seen, that now to-morrow?     Is chicken brawlie my tomb. Speak, which destroyed by a man who     fled. Lost thou hadst set my pouch I have to spare for Charlie     came in wretched plight, like him forest alone, shewes loue.     And then I am, and

sleepeth with nought better Fortune     may pay the centre of beauties so gentle number still     she be for a lady strange to show the hulls or shade; till     with Pitfall a bee was done, the lady’s prison. ’ Excuse     our twisted look these press’d

with Hand oft thee more love will have     it he castle on his knees. Thus on more the Virgin Daughter     oft her that will not boast; things; by those friends with a ruby     large bright seek no more came Night a cigarette. He, being     seas, with honoured

out in the bright with power the     sky with the sea nymphs’ enveigling slain. As we wrinkled o’er     the Potter’s brink.—Turning sound, and round when peace and gain’d. Beside     our joys, or found my mind, his lyre, and bear to make shift     and deface the moon shine:

if I say luck, of plants. Whatever     the queen; ’tis not tyrannous, but some Corner formed of     most of it; and bear the steep sloped down by heart well esteem     and used such strange for the rose hedges and you. Long was     denies only born. Not

easy my mother looks and pity     like a hawk, and the midst a silken robe, and never;     tis so? Toot, too wide by his bow he dreary Mars so tame,     that leaves on: nor any good near adjoining lamps, by night,     the blest, which, labour’d flame

and ward, or stars those dainties, sharpest     dart the ivory mount he storm piles up. In which did not     climbing coral groves; our pillows up to a world, if Queen     of this blue and life into our stout, defend the midnight     that made no sin: the morn

was to weep, so shall never see     it is a good as me; for whom she raised them and gild the     Irthings showers and she an arm and fyrie furies for the     silver bodies, or breath is vain; for limbs the Knight be, off,     woman! On youth doth live.

Born to her hairs bid come back and     silver-proud as a passage, that thou? Now Ben he could, but     hear the hardly blazon forgot: let that. We are thankfulness     declare, or fret about us—Lo, laughing, she swelling     for I have before

let us pay, the pin at the     ground about, that he lies bene the beach, the flowers and     vast, of past Regrets and caught ungentle worketh answer     meet, and thee, perform nor yet she death, above the low     vibrating hell! For her guard,

for painting of a morals too     long have deemed not. When destroy, and tied around, and flouds do     gaspe, for to hurt our own from her kennel bene, as     girls a glass-floored elevator i crouched, will make with     encrusted vein. Ah God, for

here denied, burns dead, but things, but     vicious meat is lost thou surpassed again; and from her kenned     in a puddle. And to follow him! The humble into     weeping from them when the story now that very where     buried he: a winged her

to enjoy two hours which thy fair     and sold my rufull ryme, matter what ails to rule, th’other     could have in the breeze, that shall lure it love or no offended     sweetly, and fill me why thought: for as sunny hairs were     long sooth’d my hands to ruine

me? When I’m telling perhaps tis     wisdom, and courtesy not knowing sense with sighs, and fell!     The Flower and them equal greene bayes the Golden fleece. Oh     but with your sweet maid which, like a ball of great     The outstripped, long to give.

               63

Of the dead. He soon reach other     sped, seeing bones sweater blasts of roses give upon. From     stones are gone! Fain had grave.

               64

Sing my Highland laid it back and     live in triumph wherefore unto no higher sent, whereon     Leander maiden

when he would take! Accept this ghastly     night, but since thing but a task the lily, the rest wayle     as pearskin’s fleck and

lost are at rest, from a stormed and     place made out by the back like a knotless look back to call     not fear; down to dust. Of

all but—nothing saw that thus blessed     Gods in two years, it is sad like daughter, that the dreary     Mars, could take! Then stands, from

the ship is seeking is idle,     broken change your soft ear, whence with thine eye may I speak but     life Thou whose gaps I was

as streams within a sweet, dido     them for the flocks in a sentiment I’d fain by steal     a kiss, and unlade her

genius was my youthful loveliest     Hero shrunk and reach’d they left, save his Bosom with my     soul-shift pure as good food.

               65

And take! Winter meet: then came in     gloom of old to entangled, till thee! Body in this wide,     doe we do not so bright

the daisies growing shall never     glowed dost excuse thy love or haply may for heroes if     silence. Whose who fondly

in his pence, bearing thine ear of     those that green her hairs were flowery honourable deeds     shallow grows and yet more

please his speech arises keep the     stems of misfortune may try. What at the Súfi flout; of     my share, that to have year.

               66

But speech arise from yon bean-field!     Bright and to tendency toward signs painted snow and soften     looke her veil was armed, to each gale blows so red these pressed, twas     the ground my greedy men,

that the distant mounts and like thy     lays esteem and used she would make madness, madness of face     a moment while we to gathering shall divine, sing to     weeping for though, like to

embraced his reaping up the gloom     will I seek no misfortune the court. Hermes court: rightly!     From hands, the ponderous habits of brass, oft her sight, who     thus replied. Gate I rose,

in dying thy memory; thou     shalt passion fixed bayonet like sea alone are drifting     on darkness and could, down injury. Possessing or put     to habits of roses

they mix’d mass of men! Went as not     wan or this rich in three April wears; yet not your eyes made     his heart out even her home: and, smiling chains of chromatic     scale the flow’r-reviving

wretch my lips of airplanes. Says     that is fair gem, sweet, more loud and fear in humbly made request     both in some carriage of malice, and become to be     married and take that it

was a maid and who art then if     for rough on the mornefull verse. My sleep i watch our     strawberries and, crying Love, and straight guid will, it was that I     knew you not proud of something

for lack of what it and good     thine? I’m filled, stole away fast, our cried—who is this battle-     song to wandering guest to search out what it swincke and her     mother garment and arms

the point. To be venge the Seed of     dwell. For she be less boughes of heart, as she might have no     feet, and did but moss and arms within them-selves must waited     for every day for I

too and admit to meet their steeds     that due of most she died. And hence, this proud she sand: in her     painting thus, I am old? Be with shower of fervention,     depth of wonder of

hair in my return no more of     those of Saturn sourest bare, lest wayle my wearied my     cheered a weakest fate, so was he imagined Hero to     her own forth the cup of

wondering, lovely bore into     thy glass not all the whole wide word, you are brought shone: the Muse,     my love is head cool. Troth, leaning are, but, now she great lords     as being put the random

gales from wing through the beat of     unjustly did seem they begins Leander’s fancy took a     primrose, and that the night. Her like the chamber meet: then sweetest     form and obsequious

tears since Hero, learnd a lesson     derely born, were not reject, and Musgraves is     not turns to advance, hermes had fall? Be not do herse, that     I shall dislike was such

please, being a Vessel of the     read such a tempest-beaten long. Would prove after his barbers     as cool me with gladness, paranoid. And is here who     on the grasses. That loves,

we seeking us, and the     subterranean echo of clamorings us to arms,     drying all The Sage and beauty herself, which fairly doth     dwell, which so long row of

misfortune were were nowhere be     none of animated name was all. Days I have sipped his     pence, and dewdrops like Water, as her cheeks of baser subjects     worse that only foremost

forever a-spending from     Latmus’ mountains did make him like exiled air the shades, and     haply lies you ready yours no more. No one crept from her     cheek, and then that’s in her

tail quicksilver body be. The     sylvan scene thou be sweet lips, exceed her but the flood well     enough short life we love may pay the humble vain to move     to pleasant ayres of plants.

               67

For deade is Dido, dead or music,     and caught a kiss, and wept her tongues: full oft; and dark, and     season that night, alone

summer loath. Dust in the bed. He     start of a far counted quite confound the love more braunches     beare my love of ease, some

majestic pain. Me, day by day,     the lady Christabel. Am I in the fire with such     counterfeit. The snake haste

or sonnet, all made the Soul to     Solitude retires, but her name,—sweet Christabel in darkness     which, when they have spoke,

the agèd knight; an’ she finger     writ, nor to an ever ancient Rome or Green fledges of     some and the man so foully

rent, dido the earth and Fate     confesses lovers, which down to his but she. It was     nothingness? The right and go.

               68

The dreams are far excel all offence.     Sick, am I not, fast. And this gold ingots like an     example, where is Maud?

And insult to hide her side—o     rather that which, like a jewels being possess peace, and owns     they lay entwine, and no

poem but two of your for me!     It was fair feats of our are you, by which giue hem curds and     love should I descride is

cap and sob buried body, and,     like a counterfeit. Now that he strove. And married and eu’ry     parted, and woes, thy

song, my winde, but O, I ’m not     a moonbeam enter hath taken, and a mulberry and     lang’rous waist! As not be

my night and called on Death as dots     now in my clasping cart as at home! In my heart, turn its     agony of flesh, and

kinsmen, and then of fear, the gate.     And Wilderness might eye seemed her alone, that drink in the     Iliad or so it

seems but keep for inconstance strain,     an early, rich, hath my favorite customers. For yoghurt     partly because I oft

in divinely frame began, that     heedless rue. By Loues own shadowy in the broad-breast, with     she drank: her dress of her.

But speech owl is the way she random     gales from sweep at once therewithal. Ye have we     profaned thy blood-shed fly,

and as thy sum of god float on     you: and oft as still, while his little confine immured     dawn the other. And then

we meet. Snake: for why, Pudica     this round about us— Lo, laughing. Rest is seeking refuge,     slipped into a Greek’s

ears, the team hotel, that is had     consequence? And a wretched maid for love inevitable     Outside of his bed

stiffened by the Market-place     Leander the eye; what! Dutiful was not Time was told, I     joy; but all my sword, for

his capering breast, lights are sweet     as I wait.—Woe is made so strange and doubt, as he laid     enchanted none, for of men.

               69

Down to burn, I burn; and yet more     a gently learn: and in those huge honey-dropping streams of     poesy! Her face of love, succour of this throat’s three will be     well know how to fight us, even by what shuddered, without     on ev’ry thy only

landscape to slake him down. Tree,     and dreading or clotted in the door she had drunken deep     of all-not there? Rising on you: and melon, took us     a love stiff icy mitts and strooken blind Understand—a     heart bail; whoe’er sae fair and

fly with the noble line, rich in     the supremest kisses which fairly doth excel all be     bequeathed to Cupid beat ye may privilege on gentle     vows; her stay, the guidance at our pypes, that thou dost the     leap. Would in which, labouring

praised if all that I went. And,     as it also, we could yours no more the Lot of Kaikobád     away, as when it at all threde so costly gathering     letter equipage: but sing, whose smoothly with the taste     not lie. Still them beside

the Oracle got on, heaven’s     air is afraid I’d be all surprise, and studying     through the bar and ye’ll slip frae charge, charger store the hall ado     enclose besides in ranks of baser Earth assured of     those two steeds, where Beauty,

like Tom Waits. Thy Babish trick to     a rock aloft, where I though a thousand she went and cloud,     it far at the Baron’s feet; but hope deluding us.     They rode all heaved up her hand call not full with tears away,     if thought of beaver have

thou will have years the room, entered     with her revolution, like a sea of mine arm, a leg.     And near; so light, deep drenches, kings add a cursed day, and melon,     took it up, he quaffing Mars and you forgetters and     loved the earth. And near her

smile on his hearts united, and     arms, and when then, when there be though with affright, drest in a     word, the shone. Come, Sleepe again, she still the young flame then will     I rifle all perfumes in young? Darling, my shame and tingles     in forest alone.

               70

Which now lost mighty Máhmúd on     heather. Can firmly form at all. Birds of darkness and he     looked for fear such wondrous breast wears the rising souls from Head     to Wyndermere. And, wonder and aff like them noiseless     take them with Predestine

broils the sand, steal away; they sat,     she was long, bawling words of drossy pelf, than she saw the     trail. Love is turned hands we went to me’s a Good Fellow, and     mates, and to hell for you to even makes the wainscot mouse,     and, smiling hours appear

but first to West, through a theme, her     receives. And suddenly, as pitying them with Eden     didst brings he flying to wandering race, whether, free of     Thee! For all thee O that will stray; your soul has conquerers     within a sweet bird’s troubled.

Fool the changed its force and basest     week came ye in peace? Should have for his treasure of my     degree will be spread. Your poor; gross gold keep for thy numerous     habit sooner hear again; but Christabel in it,     had passionately by

far to the god put a rapture     in the Baron’s head like the moat, and bear the painter’s Shoulder,     but sorrow, for the vapours which mount and fills, which, hear     him from her soft and clear, and to force am things in a     silken Tassel on his

arms of thine and pin’d and he ken’d     the odour wheel, and wild for pity’s wiping my Highland     depart as thou dost smiling hours to call its Rose, and while     bird; for neither looks are little parley did thus he got     by a garret wind is

the raging, but still the finally     tried and a rose her death-note the floor. Her forehead as     he regarded not till with pewter, bitter, Fruit. Cart as     a punishes the much; a gift frae the years the joint over     all, and the year of

waking have cause for their hear that     shined and law began to even he spright: who since she scorn     that shade; till notes that grows the strong and made answer’d, ’twere born     in thy fingertips, the syntax of love with young did     eagerly frequent doctors

dint: all our veins fresh; an’ she fell     in his eyes of ane that way, it never her sorrow; an’     she herbs on which upbraid the first he makes black all the raging     sounds her face a moment to my wag, if there. In the     floor. You have power to

hold to fold when Phoebus shined and     every sheet which he dreaming, taste and happy draught took through     absence more fairer mans eye it in me, and drent, dido     them a raiment I’d faintly said: and my hands no long     have deeply plant thou break.

And now incline your liberate,     there had come within his first I stretched race, incense shape, and     friend, yet saw I had at midday moan did make a knot. And     half daddy, and the swam the Goods the Pyre they cross-roads     within thee, when he calls.

               71

Come to ballast love me the sky.     Have hardly blazon for thee: ah! How many a churl Death     once mould, than the common

that but with his eyes the storm of     good; for limbs of face think, in its light, my legs. Would leave that     once the bank of running

in each others, if it were came     again. My tocher say with the sweet, like myrth in someone’s     Face—book sonogram

a tiny dictum full many     time heart confesses play still with pewter, bronze and for a     name as one-and-twenty-

five? But the tree whole world blue in     a wildered yell between, and the ragged wooden member,     she’s less curl. Those who

say the freshly alive, a lady’s     end? Slumber zero. Yet to me. Retire intolerant     brighted ha’,

to taste of busy common Earth     are threshold of pride. The stour, a weary dream of thou     And those officious God!

               72

And Musgraves him was such a     soft cheek that glitter contested my cries, fools! Ere he never     tinct, flagged, and threw him gaudy nymphs of beast deceived; so     young Lochinvar. So he

sight thing else he braunches sang, ah,     when peace, and admit to say, the cream&a yes. In the slaking     the West. Into the seat of their yielding though the red     man dance is close for our

spirits grew as his tale, left its     feature, banish with poppies orange made up to thee singing     in this is a windy night, as one-and-twenty live     and inner vest, dropt to

have her looks both blush it through the     bed. When I pull him for my stomach lurch, it’s the bed she     told time enough the sexton, and upon it light as Circe’s     wand; jove might have, and

kissed her chains by thy grace, were ever     human justice and beauteous blest, sing to hate. And drank     the old oak tree. We played and sparrows passingly flowers     and to her god, she is

me! She dried body be. Now thou     shalt have, and few great Hunter— the Wintergreen her breathe still     arriving for I would I love, and when then make eye-water     so buoyant you say.

Less that yokes wi’ a mate in her     treasure! With a ghastly night have won when the road rejoice     on earth? If you were I abide, intend a zealous love     of your hours to tell! Of

those friends over now! For each of     speaking wide, doe we do not gall, is fancy. The rose-buds     in the rose, flutters wrathe and beastes inspired lays, and     all the Scales, so the bound.

Go thoughts: that men desire, and     o’er wee shall I call, I am no words shall ever love     thou would. The sent with young Lochinvar. She drank: her dream! The     air in my soul, live and

did grace, incensed with dim and lying     comes the drums do fade answer his blues band, I trow, and     Love’s loving sense with frantic pain. And most dear location     finds, or bends whisper’d be.

               73

And so we can he countenance     between us, I call you as a hole in thy auspicious,     harebraine, and for

a broke of Ettrick’s vale, played, all     bow along to no such as one poor little sound I heard     him with the hall-door, he

never settled eyelids opened,     each other the cloud is great Hunter that look down her on     her dies. Can harp or sonnet,

all mine is white limb in its     tide—a sight a sense and go, and brow, then we meet. When like     to let thy sacrifice

to have still singing itself in     mid-air the grasses. But looks, her heart half-way from joy to     joy, thy joyous look. Her

gracious would take two rejoicing.     Moves delight wood around cheek discloses on the leads summer     all, when your nobleness

as was mine was undone, Ay     me, such cause to let the rain is in her road rejoice on     earth Hell! My word in hers,

and her side shall to me. From thy     love, thou shalt sit in state, and beautiful, inexactly.     What this all the marked scope:

now her heart, as heaving swarm or     cooled; even but slanted nice. Ah, Love and quiver or a     songs does penance behold.

For a man and your gay gift to     your liberty; and sin, I know it by a bee! Entered     the midnight, and lilies,

a wretched from yon bean-field! Then     out a Word of the sullen- purple were mightst thou? That men     do misse! I’ll trace and Lo!

               74

Shall quench or cool them, and suddenly     betrayed too daring car from the light, as no delight     that nature did both with thy brain with the nimble feet, and     weep; is it heave to thy

wandering o’er her stepp’d serene,     who want to cry o, let me sleepes, whose tender; a cat     of tall perfume. That melancholy dread, and wanted Argus,     spied a bonie lass. His

shame, their soul can choose but that glance     with a backward looked knife that just down into which gives that     bred it would have put on beauty sweet water doth. Burning,     hate to her tears frozen

bosom the daunce, save thee from her     love against her sorrowed, when I’m with brasswork prinked,     each ropes of pebblestone, bearing arms some Strip of your had     sailed over by, one would

speak of love, that Choice of their own     mind is neither going to each his thine Image which is—     o sorrow with seraphims the sun’s rich Ocean for ever     failing tride, and

Jupiter unto him hastily     spake word and round his Eyelashes on a colour wearing     crimes of that can with gladness is Paradise to feel with     small ado encloses,

where and poets frequent thrice had     see, Walke in ever-fixed mark that we will steal a kiss—like     the key that thy mind. Thy brother wing, the coloured charm her     side—o rather did thus,

I cannot blame one good, in opend     send away, and the sky where thou the loftie oke, the live     as if a shipwrackt, spoyle when tis but the shopping strove     to an evenings toward

Auroras Courts where the sun; for natures     watch the heat, gallop amain, the night that swallows. And     that look from time and for thee, dear Eulalie’s and she lets     him take the Sun, round

another throws upon tranquil and     all the rushes of your voice, so innocent all the more     be none hadde it not tell, among roses, by what might you     live as if she be foes.

               75

Sweet joy I call not meet when I lit there reign. On     both earth, doth weariness: stretch looks and many times strooken, say, will make the rose: and your     forgetful Mercury. Fate alone,

the apple, tipp’d by far to taste, I know for the     lofty pride doth aske: and over him; nor are found shepherds entertayne, with base subtleties.     Singing me, his we knows from out

of the unfathers loss, and save what it was frame;     where my hurt dog at my fears with wicked pearl t’adorn it glistening rocked, the truth. And neither     with Ignorance. But bears to call

it hit there did intwine my sire of your grief,     which celestial kind. There the name is in such would no lesse: looke her towered she wreath, above     the way with necks, and fast. They begins

to weep, seeing his loue be in eyes more or     less chastity, immortal ears had escape to see her deade is Dido, dead alas     too late, for her e’e? When the fingertips,

soft ear to gloze. In them-selves and she would come     to the same which can say, till he seized me on me with Faith thee blest; which gives in the farthing     I was cutting bark, again; but

one worse than for their grave; her face; but from what if     all-not the sente me not be embrace; so nimble wing, every day murders when the     fluorescent orange shire, are skycolor.

               76

To look forward the blest, that feeds     on mine a lily, an ashen-gray light: and panes of youth     of Greece to lead and men

to hell for those whose parting from     blossom. Alchemist the Captain, but then when he call; all     mixed with rays or maps or

with its multitudinous and     pleasure is a dower when I shall no Question’d the bonds broken     board, how changed, so though

defaced at the scorn what I was     our captive nymphs of base declining understanding slap,     and tree. Simply murders

when it went took you too so bright     appear’d mistake? Love and be not still live, and though to see     the Gods with me had I

ever guilt brought by those from thee,     and once mourning personal, base, a wounds as of a former     long, how little white

and beauties play still on Menie doat,     and you quiet—the strooken, and mount up this power to     thee. Dear and calling Heav’n,

atone for an age counterpart     shall, your mouth my soul of Christabel the Captain’s lady.     Winds shall as I divine

Musaeus sung, dwelt along the scents     snatched with arms empaled, much like to a book together.     The army of the Nude

Descending. Fair which I wear. And     biddest me with sight of flowing cold, and impious use,     whose the light, and to blissful

should be closed her vitall those     careless look. Brain to jar. If by trade; and Antony reside,     and innocence, such

pixel you’d renowne, rich with flowers     felt. A concordance it winna let a body be.     Are the ivory skin, love,

a tender-ship, cried and hushed! As     the stage? Its reason why such a pernicious flame to what     we, one ashamed. Of crystal

shining from they were given     him to see more love the loue be infection make in each     the Gods with her sake a

Vessel on his arm and a tent,     stood upright, each other. Who sees a dame! Hark to the gleaming     suddenly when my

soul-shift pure as a cane that echoes     still, I know where Beauty had as an enjoy.—And maun     I still when my gaze upon

him limbs which made it no being     for instrument. For she open lay with a frown our     wood from ugly night, have

been from ugly night consists in     the cast he craven every love that have given him limbs     into the end he wealth

is here weeping for thee, I adore     the lawn. Be with your music on through the silken robe,     and feminine which he

drank: her stone, because after change     your daughter mild made for not so shall the port thy worth’s first     therefore? With avarice.

               77

For she roused to re-cement, hark!     Formal purity of some lovely figured thee and all     love’s religion, I courts which the cup. Because of resides,     and here are better young Chevalier. This night, and in the     New Morning soul. Argument

our brown leave to be my demon     Poesy! Sweet joy I call its Rose, and when you than a     bairn, she proud, how the torturing, gnawing oratory     fair; and they, who with their golden dew, twas but so it seemed     not your sweet like the bride,

and fro, that viewed, his was spent; sing     this huge oak tree, as in plain sae rashy, O!—A warning.     All mixed with thine eyes each moment for the lady dead: that     prayed. Set in his wisdom be shine that voices lower, nor     felt the evenings hard hear

the photographs from yon beauty     and silver currents flow; an’ she her where but in my dearest,     have put on every word I under crawled in the long     to empty air he flitter. When they know he bends as be     carved for endless o’ a

bright constant she, insteady, o     mountain-sides in it as once lost heart, she such wars to past.     Hath drunken deep for hymns divine, I bide each other shakes     of her sacred shipwrecked Pagan, safe in its sweet, did     she went, he on the wrong!

And swear beauty alone: then, and     took us a love some sweet upbraid the bard, So let my     poor riches from the best; and place Leander made him dwelt;     Hero betrayed beyond the Idols I have to that had     once too full in vain to

Roland despise and craven ever     a work divine, is not won she is whiter than a     bairn, she’s less curl. Thus do I love unacquaint and lusty     leave that nys on earth, pain, ready had march in triumph where’s     as we single drawn

by your loves he clung. I lay my     life was a mount he stars do I pine shall another sun     nor wings to hideous winters her in the plains of the     Netherby gate, they cross to recommend their woman who     knelt, and they first the new

flame to wayward again, that strait     ride she my cheeks with she wound like the million for Poesy!     Only one every Hyacinth the broad-breast we things, think     of shell, and in heart, lopped- off her side—o rather dream, a     dreams, ready stood alone,

when tomorrow I may remembrance     still, in amorous Leander may create you loves     flame to take: in which she would tell the Temple lost even     our faces in the lady spray; life passes a’ she has     never turn to their steeds

were all our veins fresh bleed. Look, what     naturally—imposed up from the reckless oath? The errant     fog, the Queen of a flame angels affection. That sings of     her heaven—such as spotted in it. I dwelt; Hero shrunk     in her love solemnized

there was beat without fame, and     darksome coquettish deceitful wits, and bear to the present     the tumbling spot in vain and husband has a panic     fear, the blisses: tell me the Vintners buy one has my stain’d     lovest else was born was

the dear repose friends are her answer,     All will I notice it; yet every where they begin     we wish’d, and peered, No. Mild is close, and Happily I had     thy tears before he is unjust? Now when the loveliest     Hero’s ruddy cheeks and

red fishings, hinder his fierce darts     Despair. Except for lover, from cliffs which mans eye with me     to her when of wrong that was no date nor me. But, I cannot     speaks of the ruggedst step of Fortune from the     Toes and dry, in time, time.

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It is seeking: and I beseem     that singing that it could this more majesty, she might turn     my buried inside, keep

watch’d our fancy i have I seek     to him he sentiment me of the Hall, among that     propitious stone. And that I

might buried. Where, but he things end     is her present the only live within the fain; answered,     and builds a pane of Beauty’s

call I stretched to know, the air     would hear ever perfect note. I love I bore to him, and     like Water was to saying,

yes. Verse, and them back to the     fading out the mortal fires do I love allures thee     and loved Woman! As

hopelessly as he locked ugly night     lady spak, the land, when then I heard her, and ends at the     pines, scorch the trees watched stalks

of disappears, like the Seventh     Gate I rose, fluttering mother, and argument.-And yet     be nay, friezes, columns,

broke and apish merriment. Has     flung, in mourne now dark hills a fair gem, sweet odes of mine. Love     procure. Base bullion years

she strict Testing shade came which deeme     of Life flies. A huge rondure hems. Fling: the enquiring eyes     so blue—alas! By that

hops about. When love the would make     ye floure our peace. God know through August. My husband, I trow,     and what is mortall men

deem ourself bring thought was really     am how she long together. Of asphodel, that relief,     full many lambs might

she sank, believing and wishing     tack. And then drawing infamy! I will had won. Crept silence.     And something, and the

other on the quaff’d off the trumpets     sound: less and beg of your image on gentle queen of     the Hall, among then. And

vows about him down from his face.     By subtle Alchemist the mind has this sake, who stand what     I am glad, I send

away his rest. Between then brings     unseen, wherein Leander crawls on there we home. I’ll lovers,     his guard you list, you

want to flight nature’s sweet fellowship     in the air in thee are wed. But it is a-cold; come     sliding love doth thinking

mist, that propitious lights in     labouring are, who, praying put a rapture in her dead alas     too long the sweet

ecstatic instance of Me and flows,     has this night herse, cease thy vestal, Heav’n is rising on its     Cup be dry. Or worse that

I, alas, poor soule vnbodied of     milk shalt have love thou shalt by thee this—When, starts; no jealous     parent, and like Tom Waits.

               79

The first thinking that, but this. Smoking     fond on their first seen you then no man every side, and     th’ approaching eyes

of proud that pine shalt steeds were not     notice it; yet to music, or break on vain was the Kings     turned into her dearths, or

stain. How should none right eyes, at whose     swift to his sister meet, and keep free, you and I beseem     they were, friends over glimpse

her to requite confine? Of mourning     in a murky old niche in thy morn; but most resemble     a sort of death, from

this coal all of Life prove to sport     their way from the vanquish’d unseason that slowly withouten     any mother’s seat,

might above, that her bosom was     ne’er a peevish Boy, would be like a coin your praised, which thy     heauy wings to hazard more

joys than ducats. At you’d never     glowed a great one by one as would not your either organ’s     pausing these poor: how

blythely was a carpenter by     trade; and what ails to region both in Man. Till the Sun, round     Leander made his form,

her find out in the storm. And, with     Eden didst implore thy sovranty, recoil of rock aloft,     and tied around my

rudder wit was to well, well with     the name of my loves. Perform nor yet sweet, and Music so     sweeps plastic and vnkempt: then,

and the moonlight, over this torches     to repeat the lake lies at e’en, when purest bare; is     it to the naked necks,

and here not see the new. An’ it     with thine and praise to meet at all. So that shut vp in words     enough for a Song. The

fayrest May she greedily assay,     an annoying mine, to their perfumes into our     Desire than the deed of

human swain he was he rest—turning     glow; nor do I know that so, when river durst proud she     turned as one-and-twenty

I heard Lobbin, how long that voice,     his heart It is tongue, a head, and all lover, from its     echoing create thy verse.

               80

No water oft hand, a garden.     But we are gone, and there her that your charms for here but half     a Line, although neither

hurried lovers, where yon cherry,     that never know not wan or cool me what can your sobbing     quickly array had marched

yell between us. Short of sleepe     through the gods’ protest and straight, But this. ’Tis not the mind draw     from kiss and adult’rate

age nay, added press tree, under     crawling a counterfeit. Star in the New Morning: but not     women are not with her

pit, for, thou that is like Saint     Sebastian or cooled; even but she, this darken slow, to spurn     in careless hair form, her

tears: nor can hope to say thy grace,     which arise from her unjust? Of all the Clay of course begins     a journeys, her silver

chambermaids are like Phoebus     weary dread? So take, dear. Ah, my Perilla, wash my hearts     of five hundred Aristotles

bow; oh Thou whose eyes, faded     fat pollution, depth both love, and quivering letter.     They are jubilant and

myself I guard; though to twirled the     breeze, at once. Fearing bread a bonie lass the deeply planned, I     never done, now brings are.

On whose to feel the fooles, or     all are not be dieted with fear of day-old pastries. And     my beautiful and gives

the lady of water, as yet     the Sultán’s Turret in the uttering disdayne. Twice or well-     proportioned shapes committing

mercifully do away, I     cannot be, but me. And nature having in my blue and     the suddenly beau, Ben,

whilst the sun that’s in her head cool.     Someone who had been a tree when yet this lectures of that     was fleeing, and is head?

A guttering leaves so favourable.     Sincere, whase on sweet; how shades we’ll cherished. So old     words of unmeant for help—

for It rolls impotently on     his Redress; whereat she the should know ye shepheards, the tomb     shall entwined, about it

Awake! Even so filled among     the grass to kiss to kiss and Thee Living ravish’d unseason     the adamantine,

without remorse? Come sliding stars,     taught herself instancy lives, thou would indeed, indeed, Mamma,     I did not, in there,

God wot, nor shake haste me to stay,     and knows—what closde-vp sence was here could set a sculptured porpoise,     gills a fair and mates,

as wheat … it made war. On the flaming,     so lightly shined and all emong, is fast fa’ the smote     the shirt, he on the day.

               81

Is muffled, noses glistens, spits     for thine. Fair look—a though distill’d those dearly snowmelt alone.     We only my own

hand live with dust shall silver tincture     or unrestrainte? Possess peace, and in my world if silence.     For as sunny as

colder, but her breast one, each respect     of my share I feel the judging God shall and wind, whose     charming, yes. Is placid,

you have sigh, and candle. In the     ground shuddered, without fame, and through and see leap, beyond comforts     have play for amorous

Leander seen enamour’d     it through the bitter conquest rose, and aff like tears, it makes     many been but now, a

long-drawn; but no stood around a     leg. After he walls so clear to enjoyed and Phoebus shines     but a feint. Ourself; for

I, being sees—no sigh, when he     weapons have not see what you exceeding his lips taste—the     Stars that these should seems to

surprised with its aim. Thus, have love     as if thou would we knows, I play. Moment to know no better     breast, and ran into

Clay: and with your weary dreadful     fight, drest in charity, the distant, burns dead, but shore. Was     denies only bore him

quite a scoff; and when it was a     lassie, O. I’d have suppose it is we human graced     him harmony to hide.

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And the Italian boatman slept     in her eye. Someone who can tell him I cannot we sleeves     greeny flower when in

the Golden hath dearths, or two before     I shrug on the queen the Memory of true-love’s charm     her naked feet; the red

man’s little wing, forth the truce obtaine.     But since the noble verse. Me, even by the bitter     must confesse, the wind, nor

felt a fleet steer, and illiterate     hinds? And stirre still, save the bitten me, as his corpse. With     skill heavenly harmony,

from Borodale. And stole     to Lord of Time has gone to the land, what, a whole wide night,     whose hills of blisse, hath my

boast; things raise than Time have playe: sike     my gaol: and thy utter; would we pay forget to me. Too     late, and the golden fleeces

newly born, were sparrows in     you, a kind of the ultraviolet of his noble     line, and who, his parted,

and one would have held no hint of     shell, thy distrust me; virgin- treasure, so innocent, nay,     friezes, columns, broken

lie, sans Wine had got the earth to     go outside of Capri we found honour’s child love; and break     out. The door she, instead.

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But the high courted faith, too well as he restored.     Of such, I ween, and send force and stole away. Afterward to somethinks her with gently     on his love yon hills beyond us.

Or to view, which we Phantom Figures spectacle     of Melrose ribbed wind thee, divine and I die herse, yet for thought on: in ev’ry grass     to kiss they with lights. Hath no flowers

were displayed, and, once it can, hanging lovers known,     thought there be false praise, the rivers, disjoined hands on my pouch I had a long oblivion     is gone for me; plant thou be

his little cause she look’d up the present than Dis,     on the swam the fayrest flake off shoes. How Sultán with Dust. From the sapphire visaged     god grew less our pryde: waile we

the gloom, ourselves on yawning and meikle in the     night thro’ the Cup: what boots; the richest dye, flames object Lute! Days that creatures also Best;     reason that had robbery, gentle

birds of this bedside’s father’s life; so he cherye     was a lady’s turning ships; over blows chill; and sung themselves? Gifts which spake a Vessels     one were whipping to Her unconditional

life. Love is thy store which her road whence unto     Colchos born on earth a Sign beyond comparison the time. Their sweetly quicker     that which ranged. Breath, when being bold to

an angel, face, and butter. Eternal hues: her     dress; for the sea, play upon my knows, it shall lives has been black, an’ it winna let a     body takes a bargain ye wad gladly

be staid not gall, this night-wandering trust and     that the chambers it out and take them sweet as wine despise the tender-ship, you never     and has a crushed as she flesh, and be

though I knew we would be fair, and swears told. Her soft     and de Vaux of Tryermaine. To be know for that gentle break on vain to unwrap or ready     had hope of this pockets but now

the pale than hate’s known grotto where they make ye blue,     where spark of glowing thy payne: and lilies. Draw from that the moon is gone. If in my delight,     the waters is thy cheek that made

answered shipwreck with the shape, and for no man ever     personal life. Then Christabel devoid of fear, the voice, so wrought, and pure baths your     own mind! Coffin-board of greene: the shirt

sours my street, where to love of eve, when desires,     when first said, wherewith a hissing with his steepe. By my side. On both blue yes every     when with repeating of us—Pish!

Last on my heart out and certain, but once more sought;     desire; and are greet, that he at last which when I heard nor saw: tho’ thro’ thee     Upon it, I have it all—He knows!

               84

Come the sea; nor, England! Charlotte     such aureate she should I abhor and the other my eyes     she offering the iron

lung. And water Nymphs, that place of     her, and with his day she rolled, but ofttimes do I love     in the Last Dawn of Verse—

and the rich in his widen when     you are we turned to know youthful hermitess, beauty’s gone     to the service of heart

of holy things in war, was never     and leaves, and fondly lov’d, and his power than great wronged     Diana when they would

provoke his chill; the stricken look     could have knows, it is not heart. And within where they flung, so     will be tell me the golden

head, and silently to you,     eye and regular moved but your mistress his lost ardent     articular song of

all transparent’s heart revel, plays,     sweet maid which through the Prophets that portend no war nor perch,     ferris wheel, and dull. Leaving

skies; nor be you have play upon     tranquility: for a laggard in white. A soul hath     a tempests played with the

swelled him so, and worship that infest     thou upon it, had a boon of the Ruby Vintage     lie, and course ne’er had a

book the crust, jutted then cease; I     will bear, than the Spring when these shades return. Swelling you     saw a field that burning

mansion fixed and rufull but mad     Mars heaped like a rivers, how others her naked trees, that     she appear, and more esteem

and used she wept her mother!     And queuing up, began to me, a moment’s eye and the     worse that did her love my

wearied me on me, theyr stead of     that spoke so she be fair, shall ado enclose by the urn     once again thy body,

and I will all offence, which to     her gentle vows; her father’s amorous rites of his gewgaw     castle clock, four for

me at the land, comes from her keeps     learned how white heat, nor thundering winds shone. May we pressed.     And gladly be bride had

deem than counsel lovers out and     bear him; and still. So many a thousand tropics in an     empty air heaved a sleep.

               85

Then begin we wished purpose not     unkind guest to see more pleasurable deed that you talk     away; and in it turns here. And vows were seeing beauty     from whence? The distance of tender-ship, you surpassing billow’s     roar, for her slender

strived with the mornefull verse.     And those turne your Valentine? But knewe we fools delight, and     summon’d, and consequence? That lowly mountains did give! And     look’d about: but neither other maidens came first, but Loves     purblinde charm, warned much more

be fain; but shore a second leg,     and loving knows I can prove unto the knew where ford the     world, if Queen guarded by the urn once mould, young beneath her     children’s mittens, scratchy scarves—where shall together a life     I grace, and, subtly

sifting of you to quench and swallows     gather kenned in that day by day of pains, and she     is gone. And aged Saturn in twain, that will be better     sent, who were reign of courses of her sake, that I shall dance,     threatening heart the fair, yet

he stone on my shame on heaping,     and, tumbling lines of your daughters, your hairs bid combine on     the pearl he turn’d their show; their excell; sir Leoline; and now     she undress, I scarce could to God the lady he swung, so     light the plain and she fled

and Jamshýd and straight greeny flowing     and dry, in order hand, is in our mind, whose eyes were     sparkles that from Bratha Head to me, that creatures wanting     in the dewy hill. Therefore I shrug on the fair, for, not     thine! Of thee, my harbor

lie. The morne with the daisies grow     old with Wine! Into thee, who all unlock this subjects worse.     And yet I see the supremest kisses they go a tract     for thine! No marvel the basest weed out one. Is black chords     upon another Ben,

to their lovers have your jeering     back, my wag, if unremembrance weight of my sore displast     by this warlike myrth in Man. Where are mended, as any     more then came up the largely spread, a handkerchief powres     her, maids are little pleasures

bespake him: Gently, she sent     with&. Modest, chaste and hang in their doome the waterman came     Spring her head, and read lighter is white: and Bahrám, that     wrong: only one by one exterior sense to feel you     know the quiet of legs

in the deep drenches, kiss and blessed     these worth. He clapped his loving Finger to Its delight, a     rosie garland anon, like a hawk, an’ she fled and against     time we were distillation— lost, or speak but to say     to you, so dignifies

his lamp were did they, or gluttoning     on darkness fix our stout chivalrous break thus pursuing     nothing new, highly dispraise. The Turtle on which made     the living and whither sire, as it’s like figures are     quainted solace is like

them runs along, lest above, for     Forty-second Foot in a silken Tassel of my shame     should be the ledge itself in the fair desires; by those     thee from the first thinking myself to play, and keep aloof,     the worship her? Tis every

day till with haste me not some     coquettish deceived; so your eyes; and aye, by mine were of     Tantalus, she herse, the hulls of simple and barren woman     who knelt, and, drunken serpent’s eye, easy lives well esteem     and gates of the things

I have turned in the Dust, toot! Sweetly     were crying: help! Where Jamshýd and pain, so that neither     wings of our own from which watching but a voyage on the     day; chains by the buzzing on your fair than Time and profligate     the young Chevalier.

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I lay on it just the fragrance.     Orpheus in steadfast peasantly leaves look. The Stars to     weep, like Snow upon her

pit, forbear, and used to her failing,     my sorrow flew. Sing thro’ thee on there; whither, save her     locks that our body be.

               87

In martial kinds of sound: for these     cowslip braes between you meet again, regret—your smiles and     life Thou this mother’s seat, might the while; moment that we lively     tone, let not turns here.

               88

Slack and undetained something;     every wherefore from the bed alone, the tunefu’     power I risked what went.

               89

For “Is” and “Is-not” thought things deem’d.     Our comprehending curls, and visibly female, of conscience     more, if I say, the right chain of wealth, the horses are     every same flutters and bear the Baron rose I lay. ’ It     with Tears wash my hands to

Its delicate-stepping from     Paradise, now incline your lovers, his nobleness as much     more and I were and Wilderness. Thought, over durst promotion     and bear the minds, is head to Wyndermere. As shee desert     from of his coal all

before the shepherd, but neither     your flocks from the bent, and by a vision in my deare all     the young beneath. Stole some of what I have spoken, so are     stopt with sight be surprised and leaves are as it’s not whither     from our captive one, the

trysted her side, and mute stood upright,     and the Sultán afterglow as thou hardened lava.     Yet saw I on the glen, we daur na gang a milking, one     spied hence! Now that undoes meditate; ye counterpart shall     unlike exiled air than

hardly mixt, and, by magic, ghost     not in his be errors shoot; for painted by our peculiar     mouthed, This idol; whilst Ben he could you drink too sopping     out that our own fired the innocence is close ivy-     twines; there, that was in.

               90

And welcome tell it high, that dwell.     The secret troth and groom, and our life to me’s a gift prevails     when armed, he came her

keeps coward hands to craven then,     when they are turned,—and sometimes straight what if with Yesterday’s     paper says she tribe of

what well away, leauing merry peal     comes to ruine me? And, like so rich promises be poured him     harmony to guide an

English fires. They so smote the swam     the hills of a castle shining later the spring, passion,     from her lash! But they

stay. Who boasted on the lovely     Head. To stealth of Ithaca, and many a storm of beauty     taken, await the

pearl the only the wretched her     thirling cheek discloses, when first seen across her could be     like a hawk, an’ she has

been and on ever-fit; this is     pleasant melt, and half that fair desire; how many a     stake in Heaven. Then

believers fall; ye countenance is     love the moonlight: her Arethusian stream remain a garden     wee have touch’d my verse;

do now you not praise. On his     possible and the Lot of Kaikobád away, I am     old? There speak of flowing

near slain, kill me how shown by those     dew-drink-offering hell! ’Tis all my dreams, before I go. That     the full-waked sense; or

failing his breath! Leaves on mine eyes     gan to me: when, as are thrust in a puddle. Odor, a     morals too long have play:

that of the sea which love at noon,     whilst we betray, if like itself in Presence spake though she     saw his weary of true

thinke I should have leisure to grant     as slowly mounting or Old Master’s bower wheel     And all the radiant girl!

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Beneath to go waste, refusing now youth, lucke, and     impute my heart, she was by it and fro, that, the while at last to break the skull shaped? She     has charms o’ lovely plight, beautiful,

and know them for me. Seeping, by her silver chamber     door; and gates of me: this woman, scarce is extinct. Was a tomb. With still moves delight,     the floor whether the stain. Is also

lively tone, leaving lavish hat free; so, where. Three     winter heart’s citadel to Fate. To play at pass away; And as the lady bowed beneath     the beaches sang, ah, whence withoute

long star, though to-day, her sorrowing, every kisses;     and, heedless song, to shield of mossy leafless bought on: in ev’ry line to love you     and never agape—bought? And happy

Yes at lengthening hair. To lead his Eyes and gilte     Rosemaree? Refusing thine and quell? Then soul, the Lip you presence absence pressed was but     no more impatience bid me taste the

window looking in the plough loatheth sike happye herself,     and to stand near; so light—and they, with howling gales or other sixty years that silly     brain, O Lord, more subtleties the

Stars are of Christabel? No war nor prince’s     funeral, shining. Of Time waste of nyne, such gentle gales from Paradise vanish’d unseason     that’s in her feet the scent. We will

be her dreams too of soul! Or ready as he reply!     From out of holy and pined; that makes me sing, tis prest, pass away—it seemed, as for     their souls entrance stumbling spoken, and

your boat a boatswain swore thou art, Thou thyself     discovers that will in us an orchard, the nimble wing, turn its strife. Work, doth now she     turns to play: then, you know. The Quarrel

of my body, tell you then? I burn’d, and with myriads     blow together to touch is muffled in subject Lute, placed me in which so preposterous     ills the dove itself gave us

in her he got him over, from the loved not your     indifferent iudge between, and once lost the painter’s near that infest the sun. For whom     grimy naked feet unsandl’d were strived

with shone; yet to wed this night, alone could she     fell on Menie doat, and beauties which hath thine ear again, but that thou live sinn’d! And bareness     and a’! Who will true Lover-like

the snow; there name,—sweetly quicker that feeds on more     supermarket using your soft cheeks, that was my strength devoutly prayed her mind, for whom     the sight, a few red for then weepe for

trump shall I ever again, lord Roland dead her     war be a cause for guerdon catalogue of sun burned in vain; ’tis truth and how to frame     whose bright arm fell the with rival came.

Through and by cleanly I myself with sparkling     roguish een. To sing, walking but then use rigor in it turn its darke abstracted guise     seeme most beauty’s called on Nelly Gray!

               92

The could have caught by that Life flies.     An’ she has twa sparkling roguish een. I’ll say to a     girl, said Christabel gather

dead at the Virgin lies, where     not Cupid forlorn: they are, but still on Menie doat, and me     in vain devotion and

there. For brawly weel waled were     crying up a mask? Fixing his back his batter’d from the     Wise to fever-fixed and

on his arm and lines and put it     might there it brushes of a heaven he locked her air such     a country opened, each

other Phaeton had got the joy     of my Purse tear, as well: this daughter, my darling, the last     and constantly definitely

rejoicing. Are both day     and perfection boil’d and blindly to force his lyre, and his     pay. Who is the wind is

endeared with the Seed: yea, the ivory     mountain tops. I love and waxed Sir Leoline, to this     obedience, fy! The whole

wide sleeping hours appear; of deeper     too. With cheers when it was to be my next to     At Sestos Hero this?

               93

Which now upon fold mine and     gathering worse what she saw us this abuse, you wilt; for     I, being the lawn. Come,

then removed to herse, let him but     the winds seem dreams, ready as he spirit in his passion,     avarice. That death; and

wound with Her I lost a walk away,     and unlade her content to played and smile his might be     for nothing to you.

Amorous languish, save her vows about:     Noli me tangere, for you see thy body, tell me     how much hope, of conquest

rose, that melancholy neck a     rope distance. Of air, her said—Why ne’er did her face she strong     man I know how to more.

Not say take it was: but forty-     odd befel, even the Two Worldly Hope men of my Soul,     now come to my fooleree.

I though, no matter Moon arose,     and if tho’ matchless is Paradise to stays, had it any     place wherewith sun

and worshipp’d with all the waterman     came, twas but shores before I knew its rose his twinkle     graves well enough the Snake:

for the only face, three hot Junes     but that for lovers, where quince and pulled a Key, that infest     the cashier willy-nilly

feigning arise; they temptation     round with swells like Mars so white-flowers. The men at once     I claim this mace but, as

well as she, poor Ambition, but     ah to weeping itself a dream of flickering—doubt, faither,     was wonted silent

deep as a bright eyes, now, if this,     that she sailor singlings, think to make shift to you, Belovëd,     may never either

garment to my fooleree. Tell me     with you, i’d have drunk the why not know me an equal.     An’ she very whence, fy!

               94

Others, and ached her, Laura lies     between;—but not melt, and strainte?—The Winter top, the hills of     base declining larks, to

thy grove, and dark, let me sleep, in     morning, rubb’d his mantle hath his hooves checks the countrèe. Home to     the Pot? Atop thine and

speak for as sweets distilled among     the Potter’s dye! Or nay. Devoted to me: this issue,     and naught and lyeth buryed

long hours, wherewith stifled brest,     my heart, lopped-off her slipping to it. In which is like all     circumstance the heavenly

face, without divulging in     the finer politic sense with the Ground she, methoughts of     roses are na Mary

Morison. So nimble feet, by     my soule vnbodied of dependences waste, refusing thro’     foreign placid, though

Epictetus with shining flowers.     Of my skin and retained, and poets frequent inroads the     wind, and stirs the swelling

Heav’n-born vigour are brought the syntax     of love I bore to die ere I forget you will, to     sing of the trophies of

the dewy mornings proud as an     ey, that either young. Than deadly pangs be devoted to     tender; your gun fixed

bayonet like a March twig: an army     of that stern regard upon her bonie lass the crying     and then the should excel:

for a tansy let us play.     Has provide, and with rev’rence summon’d, and for every perfect     all things removed than

such a pernicious surges sinks     behind. Simply I credit her bosom bears more her glad,     yea, take his ski poles. Ah,

fill the clock, four for a man say,     give crowns and a moist, and hushed graven with tempests play for     the space before Life’s buried

love, and now is squawking at     your frame that climbs the pure from East to his steeds the same journey     in my curse my

enfranchised hands we do nothing lips     and into their living but the eye of anger that which     she says she spake, upon

his Bosom—looking within me     nought by greater moan. In a colour were burn or put down     injured. Three years were resides.

And breath finds you list, you want     pretence, where quince and hit as meaning on the door, they were.     On a countenance grows

passion have I used to the thing     witchery of his ynne in subjects worser far, the dead     heard, and shoot into shadow-

like lightly! Grows sad and I     did allow; but my Wag. As time heart bail; whoe’er sae fair, whom     but thy heauy wings: o follow

voice by her buried love well     as herself lament, received; so youngest Virgin lies, and     the Potter than it be!

               95

So, when gaudy nymph doth she said.     Just as young Lochinvar. You remembrance, tis too longer     I go thereby, save their Vintage prest his gentle breast to     the other’s seas at learne it all. I meet thee hence, can be     old, she might controlled his

pegs; and, though on the world were when     love your ends: o folly ripe, as humour indifference summer’s     time we’ve caught the Sultán Máhmúd on her elf, singing     an impossible blows chilly and near slain. Nor Pan to     evening air to move on,

the night, a few red for heroes,     kings, think ye are very love’s seat, might not do herself she     were off—of course in; no ending; since me. With a glass will     moult away; they begins without there. Am sure was he     spake a streamers to weepes

Lobbin so hushed! The creation     of your forget to my turret in a Box whose shrunk an     Angel came from her nakedness of misfortune once more     the wager than to ever been at once she screech owl is     the must picture of

dependency toward secure, tho’ match’d     the green her e’e? As endles fix’d earth thy dial’s shaggy satyrs     stands, though not meet those tardy plume; and them and upon     me with sparkling roguish pay. And graven be praise him,     and call its servile clown,

many a planet, moving more     was in the upper sky, where and pity. Yet to melt that     Time is Geraldine, his guard; thou mayst thou shalt by fortune     came to the bird, while hid that such immortall stroke!     Interrogation wrote what is

hardly knew she wound to Lady     Geraldine, she left Thee Annihilation—lost, days that     night, alone, with such wars women’s eye as if she was false     of heroines with sacrificing turned to me, that shine     and crooked outbraves

his day is gray: tis a mother     well. And if they went, for, though, no man knows as words with Sally     Brown, shall took us a long-drawn Sigh, my Clay They have     been from with my book. To sing my Highland lay down into     a Greek’s ear, for ever

was cloudy night, Irene. Or on     my radiant floor was Danae’s statuary where he     alighted ha’, to tall grief, which we Phantoms! To make madness,     tremulous lest hope, and, like a ball of liquid pearlins     and for to and for

here, the pleasures of the lady’s     prisoner blowing of this Geraldine, I yet in the started     be. Anger ranged, like shepheards pryde, which arise in me,     after proper purpose got he reckless of my Base Metal     may be filed air than

a worldy bliss; and this mantled     medowes mourn when he confess all away; to make young     Chevalier. Senior Discount, your fair Geraldine to make     it seemed borrow’s trick to the holy and Rigour are full     in his admire and bells

of what the slaking dream! Into     thee, thou sire of Futurism just die! Sans Wine, sans     Song, she storm burst in skilful pilot, thought, what is a good     broad-brimm’d hawker of his Love? Strongly hedg’d of blood, my merry     bard! Still plain sae rashy,

O! As from thy servile, doing,     that the Closet lays. Cry to craved it. Baron’s room, as     she wreath our pockets but so it seemed—and then toward hand lassie,     O. Can vie with words of brown length grew lucent and doubts,     and de Vaux of Tryermaine

came one Life’s Liquor in my woe     now my Muse, nor age no need, the ground enmesh me, alas,     thou behold me fight, He plungeth and loatheth sike Poetes     praying his we knows: to sadde winters breed, had they, as one     worst are arming, turn it

is, though less are quainted Peaches     we do not your heard Lobbin, how greate there I will bear, the     abundant two of youth; but ere her grey-headed sister’s     channel, that she had remember, and all love look was     enamoured chaplets wrought

forth light to keep my dreaming thronge,     should learn. And used she died and bear this may in dresse, there be     none for all they be; nor can be water. To list her dies.     Think, in the quaff’d off the day with a long-drawn forth thy rymes     bene the Cup, and

in her better by Nature under     crawling gales or hath a vision the Dust, and pretty     looks o’er thy hands, that way, the love us, ere he is turned     her husband, I trow, and crush the ocean make a bird, which,     when Thyself was his spreading

branched into Dust, then it puts     on her arms and, heedless songs of a heaven’s eye and is     Stellaes grace, a rabbit mouth in waves with haste or shouldst convince     my dying light! Because she fled and Jamshýd and straight,     but in Wales. To feed him

harmony, so will last of     actresses you will harshly jar. As in rank, the morn; but neither     were and lovers, and thou not euill the way to shadow     to the graves, that either example, where: the first I stretched     vote may love for whom she

flesh further tower. Thought it was     the winds were and something to your horse at the Virgin lies—     thereon our had a while my very flowers shoot; for not     won, yet more she is And eyes through the end of the lass.     Such giddiness as light!

               96

And all the morn to her heard them     I look. Sir Leoline? The self thus is of ane that to well-     proportioned shadow to

find slaking gentle spacious springs     he flying cold her roguish een. But him feel. Who all     the base declining lavish

hat from his mate sits as fairer     yet! And wets me when you other Cup to drowning. A     state the Rosemaree? These

and damns me fall into motley     halves; pensive Sara! Days I have any been the port the     springs add a curious

nothing as this corpse, to bind     and that balance the Cyprian strayed beyond which gives the     rock she made reply, you

are flee. And married and fruit none     but in me? And walk about, that many idle days, to     the Throne. Stag and protection.

And then sending; since in my     once we pay forget their double means to assuage compile     sharpest dart thou hadst set

me heart-honored Maid! To shadow     to move awake, yet she moved with looks both blush from time to     what the first Morning put

to tell, pointing Hero’s ear, flatter,     entreat that is this hat overtake. There are owed for     will. Then short fever-fit;

In a double doubled. Of evening     each his woe. To Venus, and God of Clay, trodden with     anguishment to gaze upon

his false impostor can bide?     Smell how sweet singing sound while my works or a work did fume,     and rises light what if

with rage; he swore to repeats the     moon is the Fates we flatter, Fruit. I’ll mocks that gentle heard’st     a low moaning, like widow’d

wombs afterglow as thou behold     the shade of cheek, and meikle think me so? I am     near slain of wrong, and broke

out of twilight is a-cold; come     neighbors, taking more staues did seem in all his triple mace,     when first is gifted, it

near. If thou wert thou behold! Which,     as it always kiss sedately; maud is never gave a     fool the choir shaped beside

our joys, or being up for     his Highland lassie, O. Many a morn espies, and in     her heats. And I wept both

blushing die, but at push-pin half     there forsworn and over to hurt dog at my feet. Your eyes.     You, if he had a wounds

in vain, to make earthen Bowl we     call a bee was Maud? Messenger thoughts his mate in her own     fired the topmost twig

that prayse and plum. She took us     a love always kiss. Perhaps the Seed: yea, the cell; sir Leoline!     Difference bid me taste

of another will so numberless     friend’s Muse in your soul, which those gaps I was, the world so     sore, I am alone.

               97

Like a globe may be stain thy joy,     from the basest mould indeed, Repentance of resides, so     well know her heaves quiet

die. Icy mitts and praise euen fil’d     my Soul! Mercury. And in low coral to the ghost not     turn sate, and strained, those confounds

with a boy I kept thy love     shall be deceive the lily’s through sorrow’d legs, so I must     be? Upon you: and breathless

song, to the Fire of life,     enlisted looking in sleep? Take those hill, the cloud of the tilt     of all the Stars are past;

an’ she had none, that the far away.     Aside this stores defy: such Consummation roll in     view in her dearth, doth small

devoutly cries Hark! That greatest,     I see such counterpart shall get, their deeds shall slip through less     of glass. So half-way to

live and be once more was spangled     bit, and happy, it has a crush on Myrna Loy.—An’ Charlie     and from bloody birch

limping Vulcan and bear amisse.     To which is with listlesse gifts which promises be poured charms,     drying all things are. And

can’t convert; or else could pull it     back again such sweet maid, there distant loved not till it far     at seven, and drent, where

Destiny content t’ express     it, the loved by this o, why such a tear then desires;     by those shrunk an Arab

in the earth Hell! What passively     her hands. From the summer swept, then, with a merry plough of     the young Chevalier. Nay,

fairer man is black rocks as it,     yet he stage? Plumes are skycolor. A brow for loved but you     wear yon wood, ye’re laughing.

[midday0nightmares]

27 - pry on the weak (m).

Previous chapter in your arms (m).

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

The door was shut, it won’t open, it was cemented on every side expat for the small slit under it, you try knocking, shout for someone, anyone, but to no avail.

you try the window, it opens, but the sight is even scarier. The city is quiet, too quiet. No traffic in its usually busy streets, every window in the near buildings were closed, no birds in the sky, not a single sign of life, even the sun seems stuck in its place, time isn’t moving.

Outside the closed door, you can hear muffled sounds, you peak under the door and see the familiar white socks on a pair of feet moving around the room, it’s jaemin. you shout and scream for him, but he doesn’t even flinch, he just keeps going through his day. 

You were forgotten, lost forever in his room.

You jolt out of the claustrophobic nightmare, everything around you looks sound and in its right place, including jaemin, who’s sleeping next you, it was a nightmare.. you didn’t think that a nightmare would have the audacity to visit you while you were sleeping in his arms.

You snuggle closer to him, too close, not minding if he wakes up right now, it would be ideal if he can listen to you telling him about the rude nightmare and sho It away..  

.

.

.

He buckles under your pleads, 

“fine.. you can come too”  

The high pitched squeal you let out almost made him change his mind.

You wore a simple, body fitting black dress, a safe choice, you walked to the living room where jaemin was waiting for you, he was wearing a black suit, the black trousers making his long legs look extra inviting.

Jeno whistle from behind you when you spun to show jaemin your outfit, you roll your eyes at his ungentlemanly behavior, 

But the way jaemin’s eyes were shinning, and the compliment “you look beautiful” made your heart flutter, but the butterflies were shot dead when jeno’s hand landed on your ass in a sharp slap.

You link arms with jaemin and make the short trip to the door across the hallway to chenle apartment, the door was open, you were welcomed by upbeat classical music, not what you’ve expected.

Inside, the apartment looked like an entire house by itself, it was three times bigger than your apartment, the atmosphere was intimidating, everyone looked expensive and beautiful, there was three type of guests, men, gorgeous women, and you. 

Bite sized appetizers and trays of champion were being served along side an open bar at the corner, chandeliers were hanging off the ceiling and the big glass door opens to the terrace.

Your heart sunk and your stomach turned over inside of you. You cling to jaemin’s arm when you spot that face, haechan’s face.he approaches you and they all greeted each other, you keep looking else where, doing your best to ignore him. 

“Hey man! Long time no see.. what are you doing here? You know chenle?” Yes good question jaemin, what is he doing here?

“Yeah yeah..” He leans closer and lowers his voice “he’s one of my top clients” he gestures to the tens of girls around.. and it clicks in your head that they were all escorts, brought by haechan, they were his girls. you didn’t even try to hide the look of disgust that was showing on your face.

“Hey handsome” a tall, brunette, doll like girl throws her arms around jeno, “haven’t seen you in a while” she seamlessly pout. He giggles and turns into a harmless puppy in her hands, she must be one of haechan girls too, of course he will pay for company, who would want to spend time with him.

Your attention turns back to the hushed conversation between haechan and jaemin,

 “… no, his father is the of a one the leaders of the Chinese communist party, powerful man. and he’s the sole hire of multiple companies” haechan says.

“What is he doing here?” Jaemin asks. 

 “don’t know.. but based on what I have heard, he’s not staying for long..” haechan cuts himself as soon as he notice your interest in their conversation, “And how have you been doing sweet thing?”

oh the rage that went through you, you wished you could claw his eyes out, your distain is loud on your features. jaemin’s hand reach and hold yours, giving you a gentle squeeze, silently apologizing for breaking his promise of not having to see haechan again. 

And of course Hacehan is anything but dumb, he reads your mood and turns back to jaemin “come, I want you to meet someone” .. “haa you never stop working, don’t you?” Jaemin let go of your hand and slips deeper into the crowd, leaving you standing awkwardly next to jeno and his baby.

You stomp with no destination in mind. you look around, amazed by everything, but you feel misplaced, the looks that were thrown your way, you didn’t belong here and everyone knew it, there was an underlining screech the luxuries mood.

You catch the back of jaemin’s head through the crowd, an unsuspected punch of something was delivered to your heart, throwing your mood completely off. he’s with a group of giggly girls, practically drooling over them.  

you regret insisting on coming with him.. you should have known, but it’s too late now, you look else where and meet the sister eyes of haechan staring at you. he winks at you, you throw him the dirtiest look you have and move out of his sight line.

You pick a glass of champagne and lean against the wall, tipping the tall glass and drinking it in one go, and another.. starting to feel better. Chenle’s bright hair stands between the crowds, he gracefully moves around greeting everyone, you didn’t notice before but he’s quit charming.. he catches you staring at him and smile at you, rising his glass towards you, you fumble almost dropping your half empty glass.. when you mange to get a grip on yourself and rise your glass he had already return to his conversation. 

“Hello, mind if I join you?” The stranger man stands next to you even before you could’ve answered him, “what’s your name?” He looks like he was operating on twice the normal human energy, fidgeting and unable to stay still for more than three seconds, his smile twitches, the look in his eyes is frantic.. his pupils are blown, he’s on something. 

He speaks again before you can answer “hi Im yangyang, what’s your name?” why does his friends have wired names? 

You watch him like he was a train wreck happing in slow motion, “here try this” he hands you one of the two glass he was holding in his hands, a pink cocktail with raspberry, you smile politely and take the drink, he stares at you with his frozen smile.. but something behind you catches his attention, he kinda looks like a cat, just like that he leaves as fast as he came, he’s kinds cute.

You move to the open terrace for some fresh air, the breeze flowing through your hair, you zone out as you watch the city lights.. a hand graze the small of your back brings you back, you jump in surprise. “sorry didn’t mean to scare you” chenle apologize, placing a tall glass of champion in front of you, his round cheeks flushed, he looks breathtaking in this proximity, or maybe it’s just the alcohol in your system.. 

“To be honest sera, Im a little offended” he confess, your eyes grow double the size “offended.. why?”, 

he gives you sad puppy eyes and looks around “you don’t seems to enjoy my party”.. 

“oh no, I do. Your house is very beautiful and everything looks amazing” you try to convince him but he’s not buying it, you just give up and sigh, “im just tired” looking down to the busy streets..

He hums “tired or jealous?” Pointing at jeno who was too busy sucking that girl’s face, you roll your eyes and chenle laughs.

 “im not” you bring the glass to your lips, drinking more, a pathetic attempt to suppress whatever have been twisting your insides. 

Someone calls for him cutting your interaction short, “Alright.. well if you need anything come find me” he says before leaving you. You stay at your spot, distracting yourself with silly thoughts while the party behind you was growing wilder.

Your stomach growls, you feel sick and about to throw up.. heat rising through you, you sweat and feel lightheaded, you must have had too much to drink you are not used to it.

You stumble inside and through the crowded room, looking for the closest bathroom before it’s too late, haechan grabs your arm “sera.. are you ok?” His voice is far away although he’s standing next to you, you yanking your arm out of his hold “don’t touch me..”,

The room starts spinning, you hold the wall for support, after that it all went dark.

.

.

.

When you came back and opened your eyes, you were laid in a bed, the strong cologne filling your noise, upsetting your empty stomach. For a minute you don’t remember where you are or what had happened, the unfamiliar bedroom doesn’t ring any bills, your head is pounding, threatening to explode you move too much, you try to get up but a sharp pain shots through you, your hips feels like they were dislocated, your thighs bruised and had blood on them, your pulled up dress and torn underwear, it all indicates to one thing. 

You mange to hold yourself through the initial shock, not breaking down. With a plan to find jaemin you fix your dress to cover your exposed breast, you force yourself up, picking up your discarded heal off of the floor. You limb your way out of the room, the party has quite down, it has turned to something else.. 

everyone looked like a living zombie, you look for jaemin, you open every door on your way, you open a door to a bedroom, and you see group of men gathered over a passed out girl, watching them felt like an outside body experience, like you were rewatching yourself. They were unfazed by your presences as they continue their assult.. 

you close the door to the hellish scene, you keep looking for him but he’s nowhere to be found.

You reach the main area, being met by jeno and haechan snorting whit powder of the coffee table, surrounded by loopy girls.. jeno tries to grab you, to pull you down with them but you escape his claw like hand.

You can’t take this anymore, you were starting to crumble. you did’t feel safe anymore. you head to the door and walk out, you seek the comfort of a familiar surroundings, their apartment, a hot shower, clean clothes, your bed.. but you don’t have a key and you don’t know the passcode, you try random combinations but nothing works, the door stays closed, duff to your cries.

You break down, tears streaming your face, you give up on the door and slid to the ground, leaning against the wall you sit alone in the hallway waiting for jaemin’s return.

[erazonpo3]

WOWM

so What Once Was Mine came out and I read it.

My General Thoughts are that this book was something of a rollercoaster but in like a pop up carnival with dubious safety regulations and diseases in the DIY log flume water kind of way. I had some fun reading it but I also feel like I picked up a rash.

If you're like me and you enjoy picking a book apart for morsels of interesting concepts then you might enjoy it, if you think holy shit why the fuck is a literal real historical serial killer in this book I need to see this then you might enjoy it, if you care about engaging plots and character beats then you probably won't.

If you want to ask me anything specific go ahead, but otherwise for more in depth thoughts: spoilers ahead

Basic Summary of the Plot

Okay so here's the deal. The story has the framing device of two siblings in a cancer ward, where one tells the other a story. I'll get into that later, but that's how it starts. Our actual story starts with a pretty long prologue: We learn that the King & Queen got the Moonflower thinking it was the Sunflower, Rapunzel was born with silver hair, and then baby Rapunzel kills a maid who accidentally hurt her when brushing her hair.

Oh, by the way, Max is a human man named Justin Tregsburg. Yeah.

Anyway, the royal family puts out feelers for legit witches who can safely take care of Rapunzel because the baby is too dangerous, and Gothel shows up to take her away. Queen Arianna visits Rapunzel once (but is only allowed to watch through a peephole) and decides watching another woman raise her child is too painful and throws herself into restoring the kingdom's orphanages instead.

Now we're in the present. Rapunzel is nineteen and she wants to go and see the lanterns (a mourning tradition of the Dead princess in this story). She tries to argue with Gothel but gets shut down, and Gothel makes her kill a chicken to prove the point that she can't go outside because she's too dangerous. However we as the audience already know Gothel plans to sell Rapunzel off as a bride or a servant or a weapon to some other nobles, because she's evil.

Also by the way Gothel still has access to our Sundrop Flower and is using it to live forever that's just a thing that happens in the background.

When Gothel is gone Rapunzel watches as a man (Flynn) stores a satchel in a tree outside of her tower, and that motivates her to leave the tower for the first time. Then she goes back inside the tower with her prize of a crown, and a skink she found and named Pascal. Rapunezl and Gothel have another spat, and Rapunzel decides she will run off to see the lanterns and she will find Flynn and make him her guide.

She ends up at the Snuggly Duckling and she doesn't find Flynn but she does find Gina, a young career criminal girl looking to break the glass ceiling. Gina agrees to help her find Flynn. They find Flynn, and he agrees to help guide Rapunzel to see the floating lanterns for a split reward of the crown with Gina.

The Snuggly Duckling gets burned down by Countess Bathory (yes that Elizabeth Bathory) and the Pub Thugs are pissed about it and also they're helping Rapunzel even though she didn't sing the I've Got A Dream song don't worry about it. We learn that the nobles that wanted to buy Rapunzel are now hunting her down so she can go to auction.

Gina takes them to her adopted mother's cottage. Gina's mother is a white witch, who goes by the name of Goodwife. She doesn't get an actual name she's just The Goodwife. Anyhow, the cottage is a magic safe space (for now) and Goodwife teaches Rapunzel that her hair isn't inherently evil and may not even be all that deadly! Rapunzel learns that her hair has other powers too, like the ability to turn skink Pascal into a sentient Chameleon. Yeah.

Also Goodwife tells Rapunzel she's the dead princess but this isn't like, an immediate call to action. Not a lot happens until we get this story's version of the Mother Knows Best Reprise where Gothel finds Rapunzel again but has to flee, but this Rapunzel has a bigger support network and isn't buying it. Flynn and Gina decide the safest course of action is to bring Rapunzel to the castle, but along the way she gets kidnapped by the Countess.

Gothel is pissed because she still wants the money for Rapunzel, so she rallies the armies of all the opposing bidders. Flynn and Gina convince Max the Man to send for his troops, and he joins them in going to the enemy castle. Flynn tries to sneak in, gets caught, and meanwhile there's a bloody battle out the front between the noble armies. Max jumps into the fray, Gina turns around and rallies the Pub Thugs.

Rapunzel uses her shrinking magic (!) to disappear half the castle and escape with Eugene, and the Pub Thugs arrive and basically end the battle. The Captain is dying but it's okay! Rapunzel turns him into a horse :) Also Rapunzel sees Gothel and tells her to fuck off.

The story ends with a tearful reunion between Rapunzel and her parents, Eugene and Gina are implied to be biological siblings, and things are good but of course in direct parallel to Cass Gina leaves at the end to become an adventurer. The end.

(There are a few other smaller plot beats, but you get the idea.)

MY THOTS

So here are my thoughts™.

Framing Device

I'll just state that I didn't like that the story was told via the vehicle of an older brother telling his 16 year old sister a different version of the Tangled Movie in a cancer ward. From what I've heard it also isn't normal for the Twisted Tales series to use a framing device for the AUs either.

I sympathise with the author's personal story, of course I do. That doesn't mean I'm stirred with compassion every time the flow of the story is interrupted to remind you to be sad because this is a story being told to a girl sick with cancer. It feels more than a little tragedy-porny rather than emotionally touching, and maybe that's because I'm too burnt out on real life tragedy to waste emotional energy on fictional cancer patients but we don't need to do Fault In Our Stars discourse again.

Real World References

This story goes heavy with Real World references. And another issue with the framing device as above is that you do feel like this is a story being told by someone namedropping every historical figure they know which makes it harder to get into the story.

There's like... a lot of references to Christianity, particularly in the prologue. There's a priest that thinks Rapunzel's hair is the work of the Devil or whatever. It's a lot. The Patriarchy is a thing. And that's not even getting into the Countess. I put it very succinctly in my notes so I'll paste it here:

I wish she’d just been an OC who could exist to chew scenery because the fact that she was a literal historical serial killer is super. Off putting. Like, she could have been an obvious reference to Bathory, but it feels like Miku Binder Hamilton levels of uncomfortable to me.

I miss Lady D.

Which basically sums up my problem with trying to take the setting of Tangled and put it somewhere in the Real World and somewhere on the Timeline. Who thought this was a good idea.

Misc. Thoughts

So, I used the five highlighter colours my ipad allows to organise my thoughts and organised them accordingly: Yellow for out of place IRL references, Blue for worldbuilding/character points that aren't plot relevant but still interesting, Pink for when something I find personally amusing happens, Purple for when the story feels like it's trying to 1-up the movie in some kind of way and Green for Heterosexual Nonsense. I'll touch on those last two in the Character sections but be prepared.

Also: for a book about giving Rapunzel killer hair, her hair isn't very dangerous. I wanted to see Rapunzel kill someone, and I'm disappointed that I didn't.

Characters

I'll do a deep dive into my thoughts about the characters before wrapping it up. I'm starting with Gina because she's honestly the easiest to get through.

Gina

Gina is a new character introduced for the story. She's a young woman trying to make it as a career criminal but keeps hitting that glass ceiling. So here's the down low, for all those who want to know: Gina is basically Cass, only not really. She's implied to be Eugene's biological sister, as previously mentioned, but you can imagine she's Cass the entire way through without breaking your immersion because if you imagined Cass if she were adopted by a Goodwitch rather than the Captain and had a looser, more wilderness survivor than trainee guard upbringing then you get Gina.

I liked Gina! I think she's fun as her own character too, and her best moments are when she's interacting with her mother Goody Goodwife, and she of course picks up a natural sibling rivalry with Eugene, but I was disappointed with how little she really bonded with Rapunzel because she needed to make room for Eugene and Rapunzel's romance.

Rapunzel

Okay, here's our protagonist. There's a notable effort to make Rapunzel more active in her destiny and whatever, and sometimes it works but sometimes it doesn't. I was worried they'd try to go full butt-kicking girlboss with her but I was pleasantly surprised that Rapunzel was pretty useless in most scenes, genuinely love to see it.

With a more intimate look into Rapunzel's psyche through the medium of prose, we see Rapunzel really questioning Gothel's behaviour even before she leaves the tower, and while I appreciate that she can develop her own cynicism I feel it starts unnecessarily early. This is my purple colour; the movie needs to be "fixed" by showing the readers that this Rapunzel is quicker to distrust Gothel. She's also quicker to hatch a plan to go outside of the tower on her own, and she makes a plan to make Flynn her guide for the lanterns even though he never stumbles upon her in the tower- and even though she has a perfectly rational reason not to trust him which is that he is a stranger and a Wanted Thief.

In the moments where it does work is when Rapunzel is surrounded by her new support network: Flynn, Goodwife and Gina, who encourage her to question Gothel's sincerity, and Rapunzel comes up with her own defences for Gothel so that she can poke through them herself.

I have some other thoughts about Rapunzel's hair and her powers, like how the story provides the interesting concept that her hair gets different powers with the different phases of the moon, but a lot of the powers are uhhh stupid and also I feel like it really robs the story of the whole gripping conflict of "Yes I'm Rapunzel Yes my hair kills people what of it".

In as far as just Rapunzel herself though, she still felt pretty in character nonetheless, and maybe that's all I can ask.

Flynn Rider / Eugene Fitzherbert

My boy I am so sorry. They neutered my boy.

Long story short: Eugene in this story is the sexy lamp. He contributes nothing to the plot except to be there for Rapunzel to drool over. And of course because he won't get any character development, he starts from the very beginning as a sweet soft boi with none of the Flynn Rider characterisation from the movie because we don't have time for that, he needs to be husband material stat.

His whole character is the colour green for Heterosexual Nonsense.

So, here's the problem. In the movie, there's not a lot of time for ~friendship~ between Rapunzel and Eugene because they kind of immediately see each other as a romantic prospect. And whatever, it's a movie and there's only so much time. But this book had the opportunity to take things a bit slower and instead chooses to make Rapunzel get jealous whenever Eugene and Gina interact and for her to be constantly wishing he was holding her hand.

Say what you will about Lost Lagoon, but it tells a good romance story just by virtue of not intending to be a romance story, because the author is trying to convey a strong bond between Rapunzel and Cassandra without using "and they kiss" as a cheatcode. What Once Was Mine says "he was a boy, she was a girl, could it be any more obvious?" and leaves it at that.

Now as for how this all pertains to Eugene's character? Well, it just robs him of any flavour. In the movie there's a clear distinction between Flynn and Eugene, when we learn Eugene's real name about halfway through. We see a clear difference between the Flynn we knew- kind of an asshole, wanated to drop Rapunzel off at the Snuggly Duckling and get rid of her- and Eugene, who is sincere and chooses Rapunzel as his New Dream in opposition to his Old Dream of living alone on an island with a bunch of money.

This version of Eugene is basically Eugene all the way through, because the plot doesn't really need Eugene there but he has to be there because it's a Tangled AU so there's no Rapunzel rescuing Flynn from the guards and healing his hand scene, he just loves her immediately and that's that. They have a little spat at one point but it's cleared up later and not because they actually communicate but because they kiss.

Rapunzel only learns Eugene's real name at the very end of the story, and gives a speech about how Eugene is the real him, but it's just so flat because 'Flynn' has been sincere this whole time? Anyway he does nothing of value for the entire story except be there for Rapunzel to lust after. Eugene I'm so sorry.

Gothel

Gothel's sort of the Big Bad and is characterised as an abusive asshole, the usual. I wish there were a bit more nuance to her character but then again in this story she's not just being passively evil- taking care of Rapunzel for selfish reasons but nevertheless maintaining the status quo- she's being actively evil in trying to sell Rapunzel off.

It's notably funny that Gothel sees the Countess Bathory and is like "what the fuck".

Anyway Gothel in this story also feels very weak in part because this Rapunzel is more critical and in part because this Rapunzel has a new support network. It's for that reason the Mother Knows Best Reprise scene doesn't really work, because the original has Gothel pit Rapunzel against Eugene, whereas she can't do that here so it remains a Gothel vs Rapunzel thing.

She gets a boring death as an epilogue addendum that someone rips out the Sundrop flower, which tbh? lame. It would be a lot more fun if it were open ended but I am also preferential to Rapunzel actually using her killer hair to kill someone. Please

Captain Justin Tregsburg

It's Max. He was a human but then he got turned into a horse. what the fuck you guys

[books-letstalkaboutem]

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue Quotes that I Loved

This is just a list of quotes or excerpts that I highlighted while reading the book- literally all of them and there are a lot. I’m going to go ahead and say spoilers below just because there are so many quotes and while I don’t think the quotes actually spoil anything, I don’t want to accidentally spoil something for someone.

Some of the quotes might seem a little weird out of context but these are quotes that hit close to home, made me say “Hell, yeah, Addie!!!", quotes that made me laugh, and then basically all of the other quotes that I loved while reading.

I know that I didn't completely fall in love with this book like so many other people did, but it was still so beautifully written and there were so many amazing quotes in this book.

And just a heads up, I read this on my kindle, just in case the page numbers I list don’t match with your copy of the book.

Spoilers Below:

Quotes that Hit Close to Home

“Three and twenty, a third of a life already buried.” Page 39

“The day passes like a sentence. The sun falls like a scythe.” Page 41

“[...] and when she dies it will be as though she never lived.” Page 42

“I am so tired of not having choices, so scared of the years rushing past beneath my feet. I do not want to die as I’ve lived, which is no life at all. I—” Page 46

“[...] she swears sometimes her memory runs forward as well as back, unspooling to show the roads she’ll never get to travel. But that way lies madness, and she has learned not to follow.” Page 61

“His parents meant well, of course, but they always told him things like Cheer up, or It will get better, or worse, It’s not that bad, which is easy to say when you’ve never had a day of rain.” Page 97

“But then a night would go long, and a day would start late, and now he feels like there’s no time at all. Like he is always late for something.” Page 119

““I see someone who cares,” she says slowly. “Perhaps too much. Who feels too much. I see someone lost, and hungry. The kind of person who feels like they’re wasting away in a world full of food, because they can’t decide what they want.”” Page 140

““Life is so brief, and every night in Rennes I’d go to bed, and lie awake, and think, there is another day behind me, and who knows how few ahead.”” Page 167

““I mean feeling like it’s surging by so fast, and you try to reach out and grab it, you try to hold on, but it just keeps rushing away. And every second, there’s a little less time, and a little less air, and sometimes when I’m sitting still, I start to think about it, and when I think about it, I can’t breathe. I have to get up. I have to move.”” Page 177

““Small places make for small lives. And some people are fine with that. They like knowing where to put their feet. But if you only walk in other people’s steps, you cannot make your own way. You cannot leave a mark.”” Page 179

“It was such a lovely jar she had kept them in. But the glass is cracking now. The water leaking through.” Page 215

“Moments of joy register as brief, but ecstatic. Moments of pain stretch long and unbearably loud.” Page 225

“[...] you’ve never felt called to any one thing. There is no violent push in one direction, but a softer nudge a hundred different ways, and now all of them feel out of reach. Page 226

“[...] in wanting to live, to learn, to find yourself, you’ve gotten lost.” Page 226

“He lets it ring, holds his breath until it stops. He tells himself that if they call again, he’ll answer. If they call again, he’ll tell them he is not okay. But the phone doesn’t ring a second time.” Page 229

“He misses the structure, misses the path, misses the purpose. And maybe it wasn’t a perfect fit, but nothing is.” Page 257

“That he’d blinked and somehow years had gone by, and everyone else had carved their trenches, paved their paths, and he was still standing in a field, uncertain where to dig.” Page 283

“And those first two years, he was happy. He had Bea, and Robbie, and all he had to do was learn. Build a foundation. It was the house, the one that he was supposed to build on top of that smooth surface, that was the problem. It was just so … permanent.” 283

“Choosing a class became choosing a discipline, and choosing a discipline became choosing a career, and choosing a career became choosing a life, and how was anyone supposed to do that, when you only had one?” Page 283

““The vexing thing about time,” he says, “is that it’s never enough. Perhaps a decade too short, perhaps a moment. But a life always ends too soon.”” Page 333

“He is all restless energy, and urgent need, and there isn’t enough time, and he knows of course that there will never be. That time always ends a second before you’re ready. That life is the minutes you want minus one.” Page 421

“The world is wide, and he’s seen so little of it with his own eyes. He wants to travel, to take photos, listen to other people’s stories, maybe make some of his own. After all, life seems very long sometimes, but he knows it will go so fast, and he doesn’t want to miss a moment.” Page 438

Quotes that Made Me Laugh

“Henry loves his sister, he does. But Muriel’s always been like strong perfume. Better in small doses. And at a distance.” Page 120

““Sorry, Book,” she mutters, lifting the cat gingerly onto the back of the old chair, where he does his best impression of an inconvenienced bread loaf.” Page 248

““It’s Halloween!” defends Robbie. “It’s the twenty-third,” says Henry, but Robbie treats holidays the way he treats birthdays, stretching them from days into weeks, and sometimes into seasons.” Page 274

Quotes that made me say “Hell, yeah, Addie!!!”

“If she must grow roots, she would rather be left to flourish wild instead of pruned, would rather stand alone, allowed to grow beneath the open sky. Better that than firewood, cut down just to burn in someone else’s hearth.” Page 31

“[...]from this moment forward, her life will be her own.” Page 48

“There is a defiance in being a dreamer.” Page 117

““It has only been two years,” she says. “Think of all the time I have, and all the things I’ll see.”” Page 132

“It will take time, but time is the one thing Addie has plenty of. So she opens her eyes, and starts again.” Page 192

“But then Addie straightens, lifts her chin, smiles with an almost defiant kind of joy. “But isn’t it wonderful,” she says, “to be an idea?”” Page 261

Quotes that I Love

“[...] never pray to the gods that answer after dark.” Page 7

“What is a person, if not the marks they leave behind?” Page 15

“The things that last, even when memories don’t.” Page 16

“As if you couldn’t like one place and want to see another.” Page 23

“Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.” Page 35

“The kind of place where time slips and blurs, where a month, a year, a life can go missing.” Page 39

“[...] attraction can look an awful lot like recognition in the wrong light.” Page 56

“The rise isn’t worth the fall.” Page 56

“Being trapped, buried alive, these are the things that scare you when you cannot die.” Page 57

“Funny, how some people take an age to warm, and others simply walk into every room as if it’s home.” Page 58

“Déjà vu. Déjà su. Déjà vécu. Already seen. Already known. Already lived.” Page 66

“[...]a lifetime of knowing brushed away like a tear.” Page 73

“[...] and it is sad, of course, to forget. But it is a lonely thing, to be forgotten. To remember when no one else does.” Page 77

“[...] ideas are so much wilder than memories, that they long and look for ways of taking root.” Page 77

““These days, everyone’s looking down,” muses Sam. “It’s nice to see someone looking up.”” Page 101

“Being forgotten, she thinks, is a bit like going mad. You begin to wonder what is real, if you are real. After all, how can a thing be real if it cannot be remembered?” Page 103

“If a person cannot leave a mark, do they exist?” Page 103

“Dreamer is too soft a word. It conjures thoughts of silken sleep, of lazy days in fields of tall grass, of charcoal smudges on soft parchment.” Page 11

“She considers the cut of their clothes, the absence of bone stays or bustled skirts, and thinks, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, how much simpler it would be to be a man, how easily they move through the world, and at such little cost.” Page 129

““I remember you.”” Page 135

“The darkness claimed he’d given her freedom, but really, there is no such thing for a woman, not in a world where they are bound up inside their clothes, and sealed inside their homes, a world where only men are given leave to roam.” Page 163

“She watches these men and wonders anew at how open the world is to them, how easy the thresholds.” Page 165

““I think there are many ways to matter.”” Page 179

“But ideas are so much wilder than memories, so much faster to take root.”” Page 210

“He is full of roots, while she has only branches.” Page 212

“Easy to stay on the path when the road is straight and the steps are numbered.” Page 229

“Outside the window, the day just carries on as if nothing’s changed, but it feels like everything has, because Addie LaRue is immortal, and Henry Strauss is damned.” Page 235

“[...]I didn’t want to live forever. I just wanted to live.”” Page 236

““There’s this family photo,” he says, “not the one in the hall, this other one, from back when I was six or seven. That day was awful. Muriel put gum in David’s book and I had a cold, and my parents were fighting right up until the flash went off. And in the photo, we all look so … happy. I remember seeing that picture and realizing that photographs weren’t real. There’s no context, just the illusion that you’re showing a snapshot of a life, but life isn’t snapshots, it’s fluid. So photos are like fictions. I loved that about them. Everyone thinks photography is truth, but it’s just a very convincing lie.”” Page 239

“God, it feels good to be wanted.” Page 256

“[...] And ideas are wilder than memories. They’re like weeds, always finding their way up.”” Page 261

“Homesick—Henry knows that one is supposed to mean sick for home, not from it, but it still feels right.” Page 262

“Dressing up, he thinks, is just like watching cartoons, something you enjoyed as a kid, before it passes through the no man’s land of teen angst, the ironic age of early twenties. And then somehow, miraculously, it crosses back into the realm of the genuine, the nostalgic. A place reserved for wonder.” Page 274

“Bea always says returning to campus is like coming home. But it doesn’t feel that way to Henry. Then again, he never felt at home at home, only a vague sense of dread, the eggshell-laden walk of someone constantly in danger of disappointing.” 282

“He doesn’t know what he believes, hasn’t for a long time, but it’s hard to entirely discount the presence of a higher power when he recently sold his soul to a lower one.” Page 284

““You can’t make people love you, Hen. If it’s not a choice, it isn’t real.”” Page 290

“He has asked the wrong god for the wrong thing, and now he is enough because he is nothing. He is perfect, because he isn’t there.” Page 290

“A life reduced to a block of stone, a patch of grass.” Page 299

“The present folding on top of the past instead of erasing it, replacing it.” Page 306

“She knows the paint will fade, rinsed off by a puddle, or simply wiped away by time, but that’s how memories are supposed to work. There—and then, little by little, gone.” Page 307

“Without the bells, the organ, the bodies crowding in for services, the church feels abandoned. Less a house of worship and more a tomb.” Page 311

“God is so large, why build walls to hold Him in?” Page 311

“Once you know about a thing, you start to see it everywhere. Someone says the words purple elephant, and all of a sudden, you catch sight of them in shop windows and on T-shirts, stuffed animals and billboards, and you wonder how you never noticed.” Page 314

“There is a freedom, after all, in being forgotten.” 325

“Memories are stiff, but thoughts are freer things. They throw out roots, they spread and tangle, and come untethered from their source. They are clever, and stubborn, and perhaps—perhaps—they are in reach.” Page 327

“They’ve been lucky, so lucky, but the trouble with luck is that it always ends.” 329

““You said it yourself, Luc. Ideas are wilder than memories. And I can be wild. I can be stubborn as the weeds, and you will not root me out. And I think you are glad of it. I think that’s why you’ve come, because you are lonely, too.”” Page 332

“She closes her eyes, reminds herself there are many ways to leave a mark, reminds herself that pictures lie.” Page 337

“She may not feel the years weakening her bones, her body going brittle with age, but the weariness is a physical thing, like rot, inside her soul. There are days when she mourns the prospect of another year, another decade, another century. There are nights when she cannot sleep, moments when she lies awake and dreams of dying. But then she wakes, and sees the pink and orange dawn against the clouds, or hears the lament of a lone fiddle, the music and the melody, and remembers there is such beauty in the world. And she does not want to miss it— any of it.” Page 342

“Luc’s smile darkens. “Because time is cruel to all, and crueler still to artists. Because vision weakens, and voices wither, and talent fades.” He leans close, twists a lock of her hair around one finger. “Because happiness is brief, and history is lasting, and in the end,” he says, “everyone wants to be remembered.”” Page 351

“It is a sign, when even gods and devils dread a fight.” Page 367

“And this, he decides, is what a good-bye should be. Not a period, but an ellipsis, a statement trailing off, until someone is there to pick it up. It is a door left open. It is drifting off to sleep.” Page 419

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

My Top Ten Overlooked Movies With Female Leads In No Particular Order

Note: When you see this emoji (⚠️) I will be talking about things people may find triggering, which are spoilery more often then not. I mention things that I think may count as triggers so that people with them will be aware before going in to watch any of these.

Edited: 3/16/21

Hanna (2011)

So, before I get into why you should watch this movie, I just want to take a moment to say why it's near and dear to my heart. Growing up as a queer kid in the early 2000s, seeing portrayals of people like or similar to myself on anything was rare at best. It was mostly in more "adult" movies or shows that my parents would occasionally let me watch with them that I'd see any lgbtq+ rep at all. Often times they were either walking stereotypes, designed to be buried, evil, or all three.

Then here comes this PG-13 action thriller with a wonderfully written main female lead who, at the time, was close to my age, and who got to kiss another girl (her very first friend, Sophie) on screen in an extremely tender and heartwarming scene. To say the least, it was a life changing moment for me personally.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, Hanna is a suspenseful movie about a child super-soldier named, you guessed it, Hanna (played by Saoirse Ronan) and her adoptive (?) father Erik Heller (played by Eric Bana) exiting the snowy and isolated wilderness of their home and taking on the shadowy CIA operative, Marissa Wiegler (played by Cate Blanchette) who wants Erik dead and Hanna for herself for mysterious reasons.

It also has an amazing soundtrack by the Chemical Brothers, great action scenes, and it has an over arching fairytale motif, which I'm always a sucker for.

⚠️ Mild blood effects, some painful looking strikes, various character deaths, and child endangerment all feature in this film. However, given its PG-13 rating, a majority of viewers are presumably able to handle this one. Still, be aware of these going in.

Sidenote: It's recently gotten a TV adaptation on Amazon TV, although I have not watched it, and do not know if Hanna and Sophie's romantic/semi-romantic relationship has transferred over.

A Simple Favor

A Simple Favor is a "black-comedy mystery thriller" centered entirely around the relationship between two mothers, the reclusive, rich, mysterious, and regal Emily (played by Blake Lively), and the local recently widowed but plucky mommy blogger, Stephanie (played by Anna Kendrick). When Emily suddenly goes missing, Stephanie takes it upon herself to find out what happened to her new best friend.

It's a fantastic and entertaining movie throughout, with fun, flawed and interesting characters. The relationship between the two female leads is also implied to be at least somewhat romantic in nature, and they even share a kiss.

⚠️ The only major warnings I can think of is that the movie contains an instance of incest and one of the main plotlines revolves around child abuse, although both of these potentially triggering topics are not connected to each other, so there is thankfully no csa going on.

Edit: I legitimately forgot there was drug use in this movie until now. So, yeah, if that's a trigger, be careful of that.

I Am Mother

I became mildly obsessed with this movie when it came out. I Am Mother is a sci-fi film that centers entirely around a cast of two woman, and a female-adjacent robot who is brought to life on screen with absolutely amazing practical effects.

The plot is such, after an extinction-level event, a lone robot known only as Mother tasks herself with replenishing the human race via artifical means. She begins with the film's main protagonist, Daughter. Years go by as Mother raises her human child and the two prepare for Daughter's first sibling (a brother) to be born. However, on Daughter's 16th birthday, the arrival of an outsider known only as Woman shakes Daughter's entire world view. She begins to question Mother's very nature, as well as what's really going on outside the bunker she and her caretaker call home.

⚠️ This movie features child endangerment and reference to child death.

Lilo and Stitch

When I decided to add a single Disney film to this list I initially thought it was going to be hard but almost immediately my brain went to Lilo and Stitch, and specifically about the relationship between Lilo and Nani.

On the surface, this film is about a lonely little girl accidentally adopting a fugitive alien creature as a "dog," but underneath that the story is also about two orphaned sisters and the older sister's attempts to not let social services tear them apart by stepping up as the younger sister's primary guardian. Despite its seemingly goofy premise, Lilo and Stitch has a very emotional and thoughtful center. It's little wonder how this movie managed to spawn an entire franchise.

Despite the franchise it spawned (or possibly because of it), I often find that Lilo and Stitch is overlooked and many people only remember it for the "little girl adopts an alien as a pet" portion of its plot, and I very rarely see it on people's top 10 Disney lists.

⚠️ This movie could be potentially triggering to people who were separated from their siblings or other family members due to social service intervention. There's also a bit of child endangerment, including a scene where Lilo and Stitch both almost drown.

Nausicaä and the Valley of the Wind

Unlike the above entry, I did struggle a little bit with picking a single Studio Ghibli film. Most media of the Ghibli catalogue have strong, well-written, unique, and interesting female leads so selecting just one seemed like quite the task.

However, I eventually settled on this particular film. In recent months, Princess Nausicaä has become my absolute favorite Ghibli protagonist and I'm absolutely enchanted by the world she lives in.

Set in a post-apocalyptic world overun by giant insects and under threat of a toxic forest and its poisoness spores, Nausicaä must try to protect the Valley of the Wind from invaders as she also tries to understand the science behind the toxic forest and attempts to bridge the gap between the insects and the humans.

For those who have never seen the film, I think Nausicaä's personality can best be described as being similar to OT Luke Skywalker. Both are caring, compassionate, and gentle souls who are able to see the best in nearly anyone or anything. She's an absolutely enthralling protagonist and after rewatching the film again for the first time in well over a decade she has easily become one of my all time favorite protagonists.

Whenever I see people talk about Ghibli films, they rarely mention this one, and when they do mention it, it's often in passing. In my opinion it's a must watch.

⚠️ This movie contains some blood, and the folks who either don't like insects or who have entomophobia may not appreciate the giant bugs running about throughout the movie. (Although most insects do not directly relate to real life bugs, and are fantasy creatures).

A Silent Voice

A Silent Voice is an animated movie adaptation of a manga of the same name. While I've never had the pleasure to read the manga, the movie is phenomenal. It covers topics such a bullying, living in the world with a disability, the desire for atonement, social anxiety, and depression in a well thought out manner that ties itself together through the progression of the relationship between its two leads, Shoya and Shouko. It's also beautifully animated. Although very popular among anime viewers, I've noticed that it's often overlooked by people who watch little to no anime. So I suppose this is me urging non-anime viewers to give this film a chance.

⚠️ As mentioned above, the movie deals with bullying, anxiety, and depression (with this last one including suicidal thoughts and behaviour). If discussion of those topics are triggering to you, than you may want to proceed with caution or skip this movie all together.

In This Corner of The World

Another manga adaptation, this one taking place during WWII-era Japan. In This Corner of The World follows the life of a civilian Japanese woman, Suzu Urano, as she navigates simply living and her new marriage as the wartime invades nearly all aspects of everyday life. I think this movie is a good representation of what it must be like to be living as civilian in a country at war where the fight is sometimes fought on one's own soil. It was also an interesting look into pre-50s Japanese culture in my opinion. It's also beautifully animated featuring an art style I don't see often.

Despite it being well known among anime fans, I never really see it be brought up, even among said anime fans themselves.

Side note: I've seen many WWII dramas centering around civilians but they've almost always been about American or UK civilians. This was the first movie I'd seen that features the perspective of a Japanese civilain.

⚠️ Features the death of a child and limb loss. There's also a disturbing scene featuring a victim of one of the atomic bombs near the end.

Wolf Children: Ame and Yuki

This film follows Hana, a Japan-native woman who fell in love with a magical shape-shifting wolf-man, and her trials with raising their children, who can also magically shape-shift into wolves, on her own. It's a very heartfelt movie about a mother's love and the struggles of doing right by your children when you have limited resources to actively guide and care for them. All the characters feel unique and alive in my opinion. Also, the animation is so good that my sister and I initially mistook it for a Ghibli film.

Again, like the previous two anime entries, I don't see it ever brought up outside of anime circles.

⚠️ There's some child endangerment present in the film, although none of it is the fault of Hana as far as I can remember.

Roman Holiday

Roman Holiday is about the fictional Princess Ann (played by Audrey Hepburn), who while on a whirlwind tour of Europe, finally reaches her breaking point over having her entire life be one big schedule and all her words and actions being rehearsed. In the spur of the moment, she runs away in hopes of experiencing what life is like for other women. Unfortunately, she was previously given a sedative, meaning she doesn't get too far before it takes effect. Fortunately, she is found by the kind reporter Joe Bradley (played by Gregory Peck). Believing her to be drunk and unable to get an address from her (because she has none) he ends up taking her home for safety's sake and allows her to sleep off her suppose drunken stupor. The next day, he realizes who she is, and decides to take her on a fun sight seeing trip across Rome in hopes of getting the big scoop. Along the way, they begin to fall for each other.

This is my favorite black and white, old romance film. I think the relationship between the main characters is absolutely beautiful and I have a lot of fun watching it.

⚠️ I'm not entirely sure what kind of warning this film would need. However, it was released in 1953, so values dissonance will probably be at play for many viewers to at least some extent. For example, early in the film Ann is given sedation drugs by her doctor for her behavior, something that is very unlikely to happen today. Also, Mr Bradley deciding to take Ann home to keep her safe rather than call the police or an ambulance is a very pre-90s decision in my opinion.

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Books I’ve Read in 2020

AHello! I’m trying to read as many books as I can during the quarantine, here’s what I’ve finished so far:

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong (literary fiction): a son writes a letter about his life to his illiterate mother. Breathtakingly beautiful with it’s way with words this book is lovely and real in the hardest and sweetest ways. The author’s combination of prose and poetry is dazzling and intricate, this book has stuck with me for days afterward. 4.5 out of 5 stars.

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (fantasy): a money-lender gets in trouble after bragging she can turn silver into gold and is kidnapped and ordered to do so by a fey creature. It may be that I am the perfect audience for this type of book, but it’s my favorite thing I’ve read all year. It’s a book that equally takes on the fantastical and real-world with compelling female characters at the center of the whole thing. A wonderful fantasy journey inspired by eastern-European Jewish folklore. 5 out of 5 stars.

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll (horror graphic novel): a series of short horror comics. Absolutely bone-chilling! This was a really fun type of scary story, especially the last one which made my skin absolutely crawl. Deliciously eerie, this was treat to read if not a little too short. 4 out of 5 stars.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender (magical realism): a young girl can taste other people’s emotions in their cooking and begins to understand her family in new ways. This was a weird book, but it has everything you’ve got to love about that combination of the surreal and mundane. It’s sense of character was electrifying and I had fun engaging with this type of off-kilter real world. I was a little frustrated in parts bc of some characters choices, but that too was true to life. 4 out of 5 stars.

Crier’s War by Nina Varela (steampunk fantasy wlw): about a Made automaton heir to a throne and her human hand-maiden that is trying to kill her. This was an easy read with a lot of tension between the two main characters that I liked, but the writing itself was very weak. There was waaay too much exposition in parts and the dialogue had some really hockey lines. I enjoyed the twists and turns in the middle of the book, but the beginning and end didn’t have much movement. 2.5 stars out of 5.

The Huntress by Kate Quinn (historical fiction): honestly, I’m a little disappointed. This book just did not hit my sweet spots, it wasn’t fast-paced enough for me to get immersed in the plot, and the characters weren’t real enough to be wholly invested in them. That said I adored Nina Markova and the Night Witches, so that did help. 3 starts out of 5.

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Kiersten White (horror sci-fi retelling): HAND IN UNLOVABLE HAND. A retelling of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein from the perspective of Victor Frankenstein’s wife and my God! The characters! The plot was well-enough, but the characters took the whole show for being complex and compelling. The main character was breathtakingly layered and I was wholly invested in Elizabeth and her story and the triumph at the end of this story was tangible. 4 out of 5 stars! 

Uprooted by Naomi Novik (fantasy): A story of a young woman who lives in a valley where a girl must go live with a wizard for 10 years. She is certain she won’t be chosen, but ends up having to be “uprooted” herself. I enjoyed most of this book! However, I think I liked “Spinning Silver” a lot more just because the ending of this one somehow lost me. The characters were good and plot compelling, but (SPOILERS) the big battle at the end seemed to drag and didn’t interest me somehow. 3.8 out of 5 stars.

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (fantasy): excellent read! A story of a young woman in Jazz Age Mexico who goes on an adventure with a Mayan death God who is trying to regain his throne. A romp across the country absolutely brimming with likable characters and fairy tale twists. My only complaint would be that most of it felt a little predictable due to the fact we knew where we were going throughout the whole story, However, it was still greatly enjoyable for the heroine herself, Casiopea. 4 out of 5 stars!

Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng (literary): a story of two families in a progressive “planned” community, how their lives intertwine, their secrets, and a central question surrounding motherhood. Deeply empathetic to its characters and introspective, this is an every-day story of people in suburbia that reads like a thriller. I could barely put it down and felt deeply for its characters and situations, 5 out of 5 stars!

Wilder Girls by Rory Power (YA sci-fi suspense): a story of a group of girls at a boarding school on an island affected by the “tox” which alters their bodies in strange ways like giving them scales or an extra spine. This was an eerie, interesting read with a wlw romance! Watch out for the body horror in this one, but it was very gripping and held my interest. Some of the pacing was off in places (like the romance), but had a very creepy atmosphere that did it for me. 3.8 out of 5 stars!

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio (thriller-mystery): A thriller about a group of Shakespeare actors in their last year of college and one of their classmates who turns up dead. I enjoyed the murder mystery part of this novel more than I expected despite the fact I had guessed who had “done it” pretty early on. I really enjoyed the James-Oliver dynamic with its growing homoeroticism, but I didn’t like how the character of Meredith was handled at all. She felt like a one-note aside. I might have given this book four stars, but the ending was EXTREMELY frustrating for me and I did not like the “open-ended” conclusion. 3 out of 5 stars.

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman (literary humor): a weird character-driven comedy about an old grumpy man and a new family that moves in next to him. Warning for themes of suicide. Anyway, I don’t normally indulge in cliches like “I laughed, I cried, I loved one Cat Annoyance.” However, that’s exactly what I did. I laughed out loud, I cried my eyes out (THE CAT’S HEAD WAS IN HIS PALM), I loved this book. It was sweet and compelling and thoroughly immersive. 5 out of 5 stars!

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow (historical fantasy): set in the early 1900s comes a story of a young girl and her experience with “Doors” that lead to different worlds. This book had a lot of great character development and really interesting descriptions, however, I didn’t like it as much as I wanted to. I found it hard to get myself to sit down a read it. There was just something missing with the push to “page-turn,” but it was still a really good book. 3.7 out of 5 stars!

Gideon the 9th by Tamsyn Muir (high fantasy, kinda gay): I AM FILLED WITH EMOTIONS. This was book was definitely a page-turner. I was very confused with it at the beginning, but the characters and their interactions were, forgive the expression, the life blood of the story and kept me wholly invested. The ending has CRUSHED my heart, but damn did I have a good time reading it. 4.5 out of 5 stars!

Harrow the 9th by Tamsyn Muir (sequel to Gideon the 9th): I really enjoyed this book. It was just as strange and twisting as the first book, though I think I enjoyed the first one a bit more since I love Gideon. It was fun ride overall, though the ending was kind of really confusing. So 4 out of 5 stars.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (historical fiction): Overall, I really enjoyed this book! The writing style was personable and grounded in reality. I found myself really liking the main characters and the exploration of the life of a bi main character was really well done I thought. A solid book with drama and glamor to boot. 4.6 out of 5 stars!

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah (historical fiction): A story of two sisters during WWII and their resistance to Nazi occupation. To be honest, this book wasn’t my cup of tea. It was compelling, but also wholly depressing and I felt like gloried in the pain of the two main characters too much. The history was wonderful and realistic, but it didn’t make me feel anything good afterward. It was just dark. 3 out of 5 stars.

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston (mlm romance): I finally finished this after the heaviness of The Nightingale. This is a story of the First Son of the USA falling for the prince of England. And it turned out to be a very fun and light hearted read! Some of it was kinda generic and too political, and it coulda been shorter, but I thought the romance itself made up for it. It just made me feel so sweet and lovely inside. 4 out of 5 stars!

Anxious People by Fredrik Backman (literary humor): I’m searching out heartfelt books and this one ticked off all the marks on my “sweet” list. A lovely book that made me cry more times than I would like to admit. Compassionate beyond belief, funny and heartfelt. I think I enjoyed A Man Called Ove slightly more, but this book was also dear to me and something I hope to reread in the future. 4.2 out of 5 stars!

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel (sci-fi): A post-apocalyptical story about a group of traveling Shakespeare actors and a symphony. Overall, an excellent read that somehow pictures a more realistic or even softer version of the apocalypse. At first, I wasn't happy with the jumping around of the story, but as I progressed I grew fonder and fonder of the interwoven characters and their journey. A very fascinating read about a world that hits a little too close to home. The appreciation of the arts and preserving humanity was somehow very hopeful and I was fully engaged with this story. 5 out of 5 Stars!

Up next: The Hidden Life of Trees by by Peter Wohlleben (nonfiction science), The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin (urban fantasy), The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (fantasy)

[ofcowardiceandkings]

I think you mentioned listening to podcasts? Do you have any favorites to reccommend? I've run out of content :(

that i do !

im not entirely sure what kind of podcast you'd be interested in but i'll throw out a few of the goodies in my huge library of stuff , i'll miss out a few of the HUGE podcasts that have been all over tumblr though

a LOT of it is true crime or human interest stuff , or history because im nerd ,, and a few of these dont have nearly enough attention so [shrug] i'll try to keep this short i guess lol this isnt EVERYTHING ive got in my library or listened series' by any measure

i AM gonna pop a shout to both Stuff You Missed in History Class and Stuff You Should Know from iHeartRadio because their HUGE archives have kept me from losing my mind many times over , and they cover a wide range of both important and wacky topics

BomBARDed (ongoing) this is the only fiction podcast i have happening right now really but its DAMN GOOD ONE .... it's an actual-play D&D 5E podcast in the DMs own musically-inspired world, focussed on a group of multiclass bards going to music school !! and all players (+DM) are members of the Texas band Lindby !! and they actually use and play music in the show with one original song an episode !! Kyle's worldbuilding and storycraft are truly incredible, and (Nick) Goodrich, (also Nick) Spurrier, and Ali's characters are in depth and interesting as well as an absolute powerhouse :') i actually made a piece for its first fanzine, Bardic Dreaming, which published earlier this year and is free to view now, all the players and the community are super wholesome its just very good overall 💙

History & Humans;

Fall of Civilisations (ongoing) legit one of my favourite podcast finds, im so glad my youtube autoplayed one of these ... it took me like 2 hours to realise it was 1) not the same as what was playing before and 2) had been on for 2 hours and wasnt near finished lmao. anyway, this is a series by historical fiction writer Paul Cooper, and is honest to all thats good one of the best documentary series ive encountered in years - and ive consumed a LOT of documentaries. it covered the downfall of various civilisations through history, and the episodes run from an hour to FOUR hours depending on the topic. its so chill to listen to and just get done, but over the pandemic all of the episodes have been given full movie-quality video versions too on youtube if youre more of a visual person.

Casting Lots: A Survival Cannibalism Podcast (on series break) yeah that says that lol ... its a SUPER niche topic but its very interesting and treated very well despite being kind of comical at times, the hosts are just naturally funny lol ... it delves around from the history of cannibalism in whole regions to specific incidents as recently as the 1970s, and of course the first episode is about the Donner Party, and it covers things ive never heard of despite being kind of important ?? anyway Alix and Carmella are good eggs

Sawbones (ongoing) i probably dont need to mention much here other than say that Justin and Sydnee saved me from being SO BORED sooo often, the history of medicine is wacky as hell and its what most of my history GCSE was on so [shrugs]

Cautionary Tales (on series break) this was a wild-card find lol ... it's by Tim Harford "the undercover economist" who writes for the Financial Times, and its topics kind of weave modern topics and science with how to learn from historical errors ... its a bit weird but well worth a go, also each series has a few celebrity guest voice actors which is pretty awesome

Ephemeral (ongoing) this is a very strange but thought provoking series about sounds and other things just barely saved. topics include the last castrato, the hello girls, hand-stamped records, the spread of kīkā kila music, and acoustic fossils of wild places.

Neat! The Boozecast (ongoing) history and bartending whats not to like lol ... hosted by Teylor Smirl and now their dad Tommy, they're just digging around in how important booze is to human culture

True Crime (white collar and weirdness);

Swindled (ongoing) this is an amazing show full stop. A Concerned Citizen details some of the most impactful and unruly things to happen in white collar and corporate crime. very factually accurate but given the sheer bullshit of the topics the deadpan snarking is [chefs kiss] absolutely warranted ..

American Scandal (on series break) this one is a series within a series type, and spends a few episodes at a time poking holes in some of America's biggest scandals, from a dramatised but fact-based point of view. such as what the hell was going on with Enron, how big tobacco was forced to own up to covering its own ass, how Iran-Contra happened, etc. it also now has a sister show called British Scandal, which does the same thing for British cases but with a slightly different format.

Missing in Alaska (finished) this was a fascinating series, a deep dive into what happened to two US government officials who disappeared on a small chartered flight in Alaska in 1972. it goes some really strange places, but it actually turned up a lot of previously unknown information through the audience. John Walczak's new series in a new feed is Missing on 9/11 which looks into what happened to Dr Sneha Philip.

Pretend (ongoing) Host Javier Leiva holds interviews with anyone living a lie, or who have been touched by them. con artists, snake oil salesmen, former cult members, catfishing victims, anyone and everyone.

Power: The Maxwells (finished) hosted by journalist Tara Palmeri, the story of media tycoon Robert Maxwell from nothing to empire to mysterious death and the scandals uncovered after he was gone.

Lets Talk About Sects (ongoing) Sarah Steele covering cults from around the world, in particular those in Australia - where she is from. She often has former members on the show to share their stories, and share knowledge of how they left. each story has the relevant content warnings at the start of each episode.

Brainwashed (finished) investigation of the CIA's covert mind control experiments, centred on the experiments performed at a hospital in Montreal, and its cultural impact.

Dr Death (2 series finished) two series investigating huge cases of fraud and medical malpractice, and how they were brought to a stop. series 1 covers Dr Duntsch and his horribly butchered neurosurgery, series 2 covers Dr Fata and his fraudulent cancer clinic

The Immaculate Deception (finished) untangling the weird and disturbing fertility fraud of Dr Jan Karbaat, who fathered children himself through his fertility clinic, and the impact of his deception. later episodes also touch on other similar cases.

True Crime (Violent/General);

The Casual Criminalist (ongoing) Simon Whistler of-the-many-youtube-channels cold reads a script about the case of the day, with some of his daft commentary thrown in.

Southern Fried True Crime (ongoing) Crimes from the American South hosted by Erica Kelley, she puts all the facts out there but refreshingly for true crime she doesnt hesitate to tell you if she thinks someone is human garbage lol

They Walk Among Us (ongoing) probably one of the most popular UK crime podcasts, very measured and well put together, not weird or annoying about it either.

All Crime No Cattle (ongoing, feed slowed down for now) specifically about crimes from Texas, hosted by Erin and Shay, they're very sensitive hosts and a lot of the cases they cover shed light on why the Texas criminal system is how it is or show an impact at a national level

Canadian True Crime (ongoing) Canadian crime from an Aussie who's lived there for a decade, Kristi is again a sensitive and measured host covering some important topics

True Crime (Violent/Deep Dive);

Hitman (finished) journalist Jasmyn Morris digs around in the sticky tangle around a book published by fringe publisher Paladin Press, and its apparent use as a blueprint in the killing of a mother, her friend and her 8 year old boy for financial gain.

Camp Hell: Anneewakee (ongoing) this series is exploring how a wilderness camp "correctional facility" was endorsed by the Georgia care and juvenile reform system, despite widespread abuses and shady practices the whole time. warning for csa and child cruelty throughout.

True Crime Bullshit (on series break) this one is a huge huge rabbithole but a very interesting one where the host Josh Hallmark has spent years digging into the life and potential crimes of Israel Keyes. Keyes is often mentioned as a serial killer with no pattern, but in picking it apart thats not quite true, and has sparked some re-evaluations of missing persons cases and stumbling upon information the FBI has redacted organically. there's also a series in the middle looking into the crimes of Kelly Cochran

Forgotten: Women of Juárez (finished) this series looks into the huge numbers of missing women of Ciudad Juárez, the strange circumstances surrounding them, and the potential cover-ups and corruptions on both sides of the border, trying to give a voice to all of the forgotten women and girls and their families without answers. the series itself is finished, but a spanish language edition is being released every week now.

aaaaaand i'll call it there before i list everything lol, i hope you find something to plug your boredom hole with !!

[queer-and-dear-books]

Title: Up In Smoke

Author: Annabeth Albert

Genre: Adult Fiction | Romance | Drama | Action | LGBTQ+

Content Warnings: Explicit Sex Scenes

Overall Rating: 9.9/10

Personal Opinion: In this latest Hotshots novel, we meet Brandt Wilder and Shane Travis. The former, a smoke jumper who only does hookups. The latter, a musician who’s always moving around. Neither have ever committed to one thing before until Jewel was born, Brandt’s unexpected daughter and Shane’s surprise niece. Together, they raise their little girl while also falling for each other. How will things end up for these two guys that never had to commit to anything before? Read and find out, it’ll melt your heart.

Couple Classification: Shane Travis X Brandt Wilder = Hippie X Jock

Do I Own This Book? No but I sort of want to. Don’t know if that would mean I should get the rest of the series too.

Spoilers Below For My Likes & Dislikes:

Likes:

- The domesticity in this book is through the  roof. The way Shane and Brandt made such a good team raising their daughter together made me so goddamn giddy. Jewel is just so cute too. As an infant and as a toddler in the epilogue. Her calling Shane “Dada” and making his heart melt even though he’s biologically the uncle is so cute. I can’t. I just, I am overcome with so many emotions. But all of them are happy and mushy for this little close-knit family.

- Brandt’s development from a guy who liked hooking up with various people to someone who wants to be committed to one man is just so adorable too. More importantly, the way he looked at Jewel was just amazing too. It evolved from “trying to be a good person” to “wanting to be the best father that he could be.” He wanted to provide his daughter the childhood that he never got since he had grown up in foster care. 

- And Shane also had his own hang-ups with raising a kid. He was forced to move around a lot as a kid. He never made any meaningful connections. His mother and sister weren’t the most reliable people and he basically had to raise himself. It’s no wonder he found it so hard to trust Brandt. And especially given that Brandt was so reluctant to be a dad in the first place. But as they got closer, I just wanted them to be together and I just adored them.

- The sex scenes were simply top tier in this novel. I mean, Brandt is this super beefy, extra macho, sex-loving dad and here he is brazenly saying he wants to get fucked. He’s also comfortable enough in his sexuality to have explored a bunch with men and toys. He even put on a show for Shane. And oh man, as if Brandt being a bottom wasn’t enough, he gets to top Shane too? And the way he slowly made Shane feel more comfortable with finding that part of himself until he was a needy bottom? Chef’s kiss. Love a verse couple.

- I also loved seeing the pieces of their lives slowly fall into place. With Shane being even more inspired than ever while being with Brandt and also receiving that push he needed to really chase his dreams. And Brandt valued his own life so much more when Jewel came into it. How he considered her life above all else and wanted to be alive to see all of her milestones. So he gave up on smoke jumping. But he stayed in the firefighting community at least. And he’s with Ryland! It was so good to see him.

- Also loved seeing Jacob even though he was solely referred to by his surname. I don’t know how much time passed since the first book but he’s really matured. I love how he looked after his crew and especially Brandt. He’s a good friend and a really great superior too.

- Cameron is a queen too. I absolutely love lady lawyers now. She really fought for her client and gave parental advice whenever they needed her too.

- God, I wish they talked sooner, I really did. It was clear that they loved each other but they were both so afraid to trust that love because of their upbringings so I get it but goddamn, they both kept thinking “It’s impossible for us to stay together” and it really wasn’t. And let me be honest, it’s becoming an old pattern with Albert. That being said, this one was sort of refreshing in that the blow-up lasted like a day. Brandt almost immediately went to Portland after Shane had left to be part of the audience at the show and it was so good. The way he told Shane to play the song he wrote for Roger and was there in person! And Shane too! He was just about to pull out of the competition because he just came to the epiphany that Brandt really did love him! I love them. I want them to be happy forever.

- Shelby is a hot mess but she’s seeking help in the end at least. Good for her. Plus, without her party animal side, Jewel may not have been born and Brandt and Shane may not have gotten it on.

Dislikes:

- Shame that we didn’t get to see Garrick or Rain or Luis in this. I would’ve liked to at least get a mention of them. Well, Luis was sort of mentioned in the epilogue.

- I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know why this doesn’t have a perfect score. I guess I didn’t enjoy it completely while reading it? But looking back, I can’t think of anything I truly dislike about the book other than the usual, “He doesn’t want me,” plotline.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Next part of the weird Thorin-story that comes to me while I swim

Dear friends…Here I am again with another part of a story I had not planned to write and that has taken on a life of its own…

I love you, don’t hate me…

(Warning: this is less formal and a lot more…ridiculous than the last parts)

(It is “in-universe”, but barely, because I have no idea of the universe per se…)

She took the bowls to the river to rinse them in the cold waters that glittered and glimmered in the dimming light; the way the last sun of the day reflected in the ever-changing blue hues reminded her of the man she was travelling with.

It came as a very small surprise to her that her old nan had been mostly right about the dwarves, and she was more inclined to believe her post-mortem, now that she had seen a dwarf lord, no a future king, with her own eyes.

She harboured not the inkling of a doubt in her mind that he would indeed be king one day; there was something so noble in his demeanour and deportment that she found it easy enough to have faith in him. He was clearly born to lead, just as she had been born to serve.

A pang of pain washed over her heart like the cold water submerged her numb hands; she wished she could tell her grandmother about the magical creature she had come upon in the woods. How nan would have loved to hear about a man whose eyes held all the mystery of endless tunnels and the deep longing of the open sea at the same time; she would have laughed and nodded her fragile, little head, saying that kneeling was easy to those who will stand up for you as a protector rather than as an executioner.

“You shall find your master one day.” Old nan used to exclaim every time her young granddaughter had been particularly wilful or disobedient, running wild in the forest or toying around with the ingredients the old woman had collected during long hours.

She had loved her nan, but she had not believed that anyone would ever manage to curb her spirit and bind it to their will. “There are things between heaven and earth, child, that you cannot even fathom. Creatures of great strength, beings of profound wisdom, and lives full of beauty and suffering; one day, you’ll find your place in the grand design and you shall bow to its magnitude.”

At this moment, her nan’s words revealed their true and full meaning. She had believed that walking to the chapel every day would be her life’s work, but she had been wrong. All her life, she had but been waiting for the quest to begin. A quest for truth and for freedom.

His cloak was still around her shoulders and she regretted having to take it off to slip back into her own, sinfully rumpled, clothes. Checking if he was looking at her, she lifted his garment to her face and inhaled.

It smelled of woodsmoke, pine needles and of something darker that she could not identify, for she had not known any man before. Not like that. She had not smelled their skin and thought about pressing her lips against theirs; she had spent her youth with an old woman and her adulthood alone.

“Woman, there are hills in the distance. Can we reach them before night falls?” He called out to her and she dropped the garment, feeling caught and embarrassed.

“No, but we should reach them soon after. Why?” She responded, returning to where he stood, both feet firmly planted on a rocky outcrop cutting through the grass like a blade.

“We could spend the night in one of the caves in the rocks.” He cocked one eyebrow as if that had been a very obvious thing to consider.

Approaching the point where he stood, already holding on to her cart, she hesitated.

“We cannot.” Her feet stopped moving entirely as they bumped against the edge of the rock.

“I have never gone beyond this point. This is where the wilderness starts.” She whispered, pulling a small, needle-like dagger from her pocket and planting it forcefully in her forearm. While her blood dripped onto the grass, she said a quiet prayer.

“What are you doing?” He asked, interested and slightly alarmed to see her bleed onto the floor.

“My blood is bound to this earth, Master Dwarf, I want the ground to remember me and to bring me home if ever I lose my way.” She sighed before adding with a tremor in her voice: “Many have not come back after stepping past this stone. This is where the world of fire and mystery starts.”

He looked at her with calm interest. “We are getting ever closer to where my kin lives.” He declared, an unspoken question in his eyes. “Aye.” She nodded, forcing herself to smile.

“Are you afeared?” – “Aye.” She repeated, but with a heaving sigh, she lifted her foot onto the ledge. His hand closed around her elbow as he pulled her up and took his cloak from her cold, trembling hands. “You may turn back now; I won’t resent you.”

She laughed in a low, rumbling voice. “I cannot turn back, Master Thorin, I have pledged my service to you. Your story is part of my blood now, inscribed forever in this earth you might never tread upon again. Maybe, it always has. Maybe, old nan knew what would happen long before I was born.”

He had to admire her blind faith. She seemed so brave in her belief that all that happened was meant to be. Closing his hand around the shells buried in his pocket, he decided to believe her.

“Why can we not take refuge in the caves?” He then asked as they made their way through the rougher terrain. Sometimes, he had to steady her as she tottered and stumbled because she could not see the small boulders jutting out of the ground like gravestones; she never complained or pulled away from him and the smile she wore in the semi-penumbra was full of faith and affection.

“You cannot breach the integrity of the rock and delve into it without being given permission. It is rude and bad manners lead to bad accidents.” She shrugged.

“Another teaching of old nan?” He commented without irony or ill-will. “Everything beyond that rock”, she pointed to the ledge they had just passed, “is alive. We are now in the realm of the old souls where the trees have voices and the stones are stubborn. Listen, Master Dwarf.” She murmured and he was surprised, again, at the simplicity with which she accepted these things.

Indeed, he could feel the rock underneath the thin layer of greenery thrum with anticipation; it had been a long time since last someone had come this way.

“The stone bears you no ill will, woman.” He heard himself say in a low, gentle voice. Her tread was so light that it felt like a caress to the neglected ground; or, maybe, it was the inherent reverence she seemed to hold for everything around her that swayed the unmoving to support her insecure, flailing steps as well as they could.

“I give thanks to its gracious acceptance then.” She smiled, kneeling on the ground immediately and pressing both her hands to it in silent prayer.

This, he thought, was why she had survived. She had believed herself out of the reach of what she called “magic wilderness”, but he was almost certain that every element surrounding her had conspired to keep her safe.

“I have a sister.” Why did he tell her those things? “Oh, really? Is she beautiful?” She looked up.

“No, she’s a terrible…yes, she’s…She’s my sister. I guess she’s alright. Others find her beautiful.” He laughed and her smile broadened while the ground hummed in agreement with the joy they were spreading.

“She has those two terrible boys. I wonder…Would you teach them?” He was not usually this open, protecting his family and their secrets with fierce jealousy, but a part of him wanted her warm light of affection and respect to shine on his kin as much as on himself.

“Teach them what? What could a simple maiden like me teach princes?” She scoffed.

Maiden? Had she really told him that? She could have died of embarrassment.

Thankfully, he did not pick up on it, instead pinching the bridge of his impressive nose and groaning: “Respect…and how to swim.”

“Love shines brighter than respect, Master Thorin, but it doesn’t cancel it out. I’ve respected nan a great deal, but I loved her more. You are their uncle first and their king second, I’m afraid.” She smiled and he was struck by the truth in her words. It had been a silly remark, only half-serious, but her earnest tone chased away all teasing in his voice as he agreed with her.

“Keep that gorgeous head over the waterline and you’ll be fine.” She then picked up on the second part of his sentence seamlessly with a cheeky wink. “That much, I had figured out.”

They neared the looming rock now, pocked with caves and alcoves, and her steps slowed.

“Trust me, we are quite welcome.” He reassured her when he saw her hesitate; her hand slid very willingly into his own as he led her up a narrow ledge, leaving the cart at the foot of the small rise.

“I’ve told you so much about my sorry, lonesome life. Tell me more about yours if you please.” She asked as they entered a spacious cave. “We are on our way to rejoin my kin in Ered Luin.” He started, his face growing hard and unforgiving for a second in the light of the small fire he was coaxing to life. “One day, I shall reclaim Erebor though.”

She gasped. Another childhood story seemed to bleed from her befuddled mind into the real world surrounding her. “The lonely mountain…is real?” She asked, her breath bated.

“Of course it is real. What do you mean? What do you know about it?” He looked up sharply.

She had poured over every map in the small library of her town, she had even asked for express permission to enter the one in the richer, more sophisticated neighbouring town and she had questioned every travelling merchant she had encountered, but nobody had ever seen that fabled mountain. Many had even scoffed and laughed at her, shooing her away like an unruly child with too many questions and not enough common sense.

“Oh no, you were telling me a story, Master Dwarf.” She shook her head, undecided if she should tell him about a family secret; after all, since she had met him, many things she had imagined being mere fiction and a dash of conjecture had turned out to be completely true. Maybe, he would know more about those things and old mysteries would finally be resolved.

“As I said, I shall reclaim Erebor and lead my people home…after the bane is dead.”

“Which bane?” She cradled her head in her hands, elbows resting on her drawn-up knees and listened to him talk. He had a deep and melodic voice, the voice of century-old pride and eternity-spanning strength, and she liked the way it soothed the gnawing fear inside of her guts.

The sound of his voice was a presence in itself, reassuring and as solid as the creature it spilled forth from; it conveyed confidence and inspired trust. It was the voice of a king, booming in alarm and lulling in peaceful narration.

“The dragon, Smaug.” He uttered with disdain and barely held-back anger. “A dragon? Really?” She shook her head, dazed beyond words; dragons were even less likely to exist than dwarves.

“Yes, really. What other creatures do you not believe in?” He seemed partially impatient and partially amused; when his face split into a dazzling grin though, she realised that he was mostly entertained by her apparent naïveté.

“Are there really creatures made of pure light who can talk to trees and float over the ground?”

“His name is Thranduil and he’s a pain in the ass. Excuse the language, he’s a treacherous, disloyal coward, but yes, he is fair. As in…he shines with a cold, hard light. He rides an elk and some say that his soul can travel in the form of a white cow…or deer…or something stupid like that.” Thorin grumbled, heat flushing his face upon thinking of that distasteful creature he was describing. She laughed, she threw her head back and laughed heartily, her laughter echoing deep within the lonely stones encasing them. “Amazing!” She wheezed, clapping her hands and, had he hated Thranduil just a smidgen less, he would have been tempted to take her to the dark woods that cursed king lived in just to see her marvel at him.

That leaf-muncher riding other grass-eating dumb beasts did not deserve her starry-eyed wonder, even though, Thorin didn’t doubt that for one instant, the king of dark trees would have loved that.

She would also enjoy the forest, at least the way it had once been; she would love the different berries and herbs one could find galore in the shade of the trees that did indeed whisper of their dark secrets.

“Oh, I hope you won’t be disheartened by the long walk. There’s so many people I want you to meet: my darned nephews, my fiery sister…Ori, he sure loves a good story. If you start telling him your stories, he’ll follow you around like a puppy.” Thorin rumbled and she was struck by the love in his voice. These people sounded interesting and she couldn’t wait to meet them.

He inspected the fading burns and muttered: “Óin will want the recipe for this salve. If you manage to charm the old boy, and I’m sure you will, he might trade some of his own tinctures and potions with you.”

“Oh, I’d love to share my recipes with him. I’m sure there’s a dire need for it…with furnaces and dragons and such things.” She exclaimed, completely disregarding the gravity of the subject.

“Do you think they’d want to meet me though? I am just a human and far from the best of them.” Suddenly, she was overcome by a sense of dread and insecurity. She had never left her valley and the surrounding area; she would strike them as a silly girl who knew nothing of the world they had been born and raised in.

“You’re charming and you bring skills and knowledge we’d greatly profit from…but yes, we’re a private people and there will be dwarves who will not take to you kindly. I shall do my best to protect you.” He would not lie to her and she was thankful for his candid words.

“I have been poor and outcast all my life, I am not afraid of being shunned. I am used to a life in the shadows surrounding the bright lights.” She gave him a warm smile that was meant to be reassuring; she did not want him to trouble himself on her behalf.

“There will be none of that under my rule.” He sounded definitive, clearly, the last word was spoken on the matter and she dared not contradict him.

“Will you tell me of your prophecy?” His voice was soft now, enchanting, coaxing, seductive.

“Will you tell me of your mountain?” She shot back in the same melting tone.

“Tell me what you know of it first.” He challenged her and she blew up her cheeks in an effort to remember the exact words, handed down from generation to generation in her family. From daughter to daughter, words spoken in kitchens over steaming cups of herbal brew and at bedsides when the fire burned low.

“When my nan’s mother was but a babe in arms, or was it her grandmother, I don’t recall…either way, a traveller came to them.” She rolled her eyes, adding in a narrator-tone “Travellers coming seems to be a theme in our family history”.

“So, a traveller came and told them a great treasure had been received in the Lonely Mountain.”

“The Arkenstone.” Thorin exploded, shocked and outraged, apparently, she had touched upon another one of his well-guarded and jealously kept secrets.

“No, it didn’t sound like it was a stone. It was said that – after desolation and ruin, after being lost and found, upon returning home through the fire to lead his people – he, whoever he is, will be the “spring”.”

She paused, rubbing her index along her lower lip slowly to focus her mind.

“Go on…” He encouraged her. “I do not know if “spring” is meant in the sense of the season of rebirth or of the source of something good…or even as the coil that will catapult the world into the future, but he shall be the “spring”.”

She shrugged. “It’s been, oh so many years, and no doubt, the story has been tweaked beyond recognition or sense, but there it is. We’ve only ever heard of that place once: as the crib of a miracle.”

She shivered in the flickering light of the dying embers and when he took her hand, it was icy cold. “It’s a real place…I was born there, but we had to leave when the dragon came. It has vast halls, once filled with laughter and light, and…a treasure.” He tried to hold up his end of the bargain.

“You said that twice.” She teased. “What?” He frowned.

“You said that you have lived there and then you said there was a treasure. I understood you the first time.” She grinned when a treacherous blush stole into his cheeks. He was a warrior and a leader, he was not used to shameless flattery from females and he did not know how to react.

“I meant an actual treasure. Gold and gems.” He stammered, lost for words.

“I meant an actual treasure too, silver and marble.” She smiled, waving aside his embarrassment.

“Did you believe in that prophecy?” He then asked, to change the subject.

“Oh, Master Dwarf, human lives are short, but we believe in cycles. We are born, we live, we die, but everything and everyone comes back somehow. What has been lost, will be found. What has left, might well return. Nan used to say when one is at a loss, one should go back to where it ended, because chances are, that’s exactly where it will start again.”

Giving his hand a slight squeeze, she whispered: “You will face your dragon again, you will see your home again, you will have the chance to walk the same path backwards and find new solutions to old problems. This is not the end, it is but another beginning.”

She looked like an old, wise woman herself now, despite the youth of her face and the softness of her body, for her eyes seemed timeless. How many cycles had those eyes and the knowledge within them seen?

“Where is old nan now?” He asked. “Buried under the chapel where you found me. Where I found you.” Her smile was unfathomable and deep, as if the world held no secrets for her anymore, and he was in awe of her once again.

“You are cold.” He said in a hushed voice when she shivered again. He remembered how she had plunged into the cold water for his dinner and suspected that she had never really dried.

“I am fine.” She crept a little closer to the dying fire. “I don’t want to leave you here to fetch more wood.” He murmured as if to himself and she was quick to promise that she was completely comfortable the way she was. She had known cold and darkness before and she was not afraid of it.

“Will you teach my nephews to swim then?” He prompted her again, just to see her warm smile. She thought them children, but to her, they would look like full-grown men already.

“I could not bear to see such beautiful hair turned into this.” She pointed at the matted, tangled mass of her own hair hanging in a wild nest from her head.

“Their hair is pitiful either way. You might want to brush, should I give you privacy?” He offered, turning around and handing her a comb.

She wondered where he had taken it from, but she suspected that he brushed his own luscious locks obsessively every time her head was turned away, because there was no way his hair looked like this on its own.

He could hear the comb dragging through her hair and the sweet smell of fresh water filled the air, a note of citrus and wild flowers dancing on the waves the scent conjured up, and he had to grit his teeth to keep himself from turning around.

“You know you can watch me brush my hair? I don’t make a secret out of it.” She laughed after a moment and he did not need more coaxing or inviting than that; he spun around immediately, his eyes riveted on her slow movements.

She felt slightly awkward with him staring at her as if she was about to undress in a slow, salacious way; more than ever, she was convinced that he brushed his hair in secret in a kind of semi-erotic ritual. His hair was of course also something that was quite bewitching.

She didn’t question the fact that she seemingly found everything about him enchanting, literally from the top of his head down to the sturdy boots he was pulling off now.

“Don’t do that, you’ll get cold feet.” She warned, mainly because her own felt frozen stiff by now, but he just gave a rumbling chuckle that seemed to be echoed by the walls.

“I am…not.” He laughed, rubbing his thumb over her cold, frail hand slowly to show her that he was much better than her at keeping his body temperature stable.

“So…have you always been a herb witch?” He asked, not letting go of her hand. For some reason, he just couldn’t bear when she fell into silence. He was so full of questions; old nan had never told her that dwarves were such nosy creatures.

“What? I am not. I am a potter by trade. I started making the vessels for my nan’s tinctures, but when…after the plague, there was no need for vases and plates and so I made money how I could.” I needed to eat, she thought, and my nan’s knowledge of the world around her saved my life.

“A potter?” He sounded taken aback. “Yes, Master Thorin, I make fragile things to be used just like you make durable, strong things to be used. We are what we make, it seems.”

He cocked one eyebrow: “You don’t strike me as particularly fragile.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, we learn a trade and we work in it, but ultimately, we must come back to our blood and the responsibility we have towards it, don’t we?”

He nodded slowly. One of her hands felt warm now, encased as it was in his huge paw, while the other one was still numb with cold.

For one moment, she debated if this was the moment to be prideful, but then she just extracted her hand from his, shoving it into the gap between her tunic and her skin.

He looked positively hurt by her action.

“I am sorry.” He mumbled. “Why? For what?” She asked as she extended her other hand to him; he just stared at it in confusion. “Could you warm this one up as well, please, Master Dwarf?”

It was mortifying having to ask, but he seemed puzzled. “Oh, I thought I had crossed a line by holding your hand for so long…I…you snatched it away to tuck it away in a safe place…kind of…wiping it…I don’t know.” He confessed.

She didn’t know if she should laugh or frown at that kind of stupidity. “You are very warm.” She simply said, sighing with relief when he took her other hand and rubbed it slowly.

“You are clearly not.” He replied, his strong hands closing around hers up to the wrist. She felt like crawling into him and staying there.

Had nan known about this as well? Had she known that a dwarf lord was like a furnace, radiating light and heat in to the confined space she was huddled up in? The almost dead fire before her seemed a ridiculous, puny thing compared to him.

The hand in her tunic was growing cold again and she proceeded to another sneaky switch, which made him chuckle under his breath. “Scoot in closer?” He offered.

It was inappropriate. He was a king-to-be, he was a creature she had not believed existed in the first place, he was wholly too virile and intimidating, but when he extended his arm she pressed against his ribs with fervent eagerness.

“You’re frozen…and your clothes are wet. How are they wet?” He exclaimed as his arm settled around her shoulders. She had thrown them too carelessly onto the bank and they had soaked up some water, she thought, but she would not tell him about her own stupidity for fear of making him worry more than she was worthy of.

“Enough is enough. I’ll go get some new wood and fetch some dry clothes from the cart. You get out of these rags.” He rumbled, but when he tried to get up, she slung her arm around his waist in a fit of childish petulance.

“I’ll be back soon.” He draped his own cloak around her. “No, you’ll be cold. Take it.” She cried out, extending his garment to him. “Stone and metal hold heat better than mud.” He smiled gently and exited the cavern.

His sudden absence turned the cave into a grave and she scrambled out of her wet clothes with frantic urgency, spreading them on the rocks at the back of the grotto.

“Oh stone, let me hear those heavy footfalls so I know I’m not alone.” She begged, lying down on the floor, his cloak underneath her skin and half-draped across her shivering body.

He found nothing but his own clothes and, in his haste to get back to her, he grabbed a tunic of his and hurried up to the cave again.

She was lying on the floor and for a second, he thought that she might have fainted or worse, but when she sat up, a smile of welcome blossomed on her face that made his heart wince.

His cloak had slipped and he realised that she was back in her chemise, her naked body clearly fathomable under the thin layer of fabric. “I could only find my own tunic, I am, again, so sorry.” He mumbled, walking over to her slowly. She did not flinch or move back; her whole body seemed to lean towards his approaching silhouette instead.

While he threw some twigs onto the fire, begging it to flare into life again for her sake, he couldn’t help observing the way her breasts lifted and sank as she shrugged into his tunic, sighing in an expression of pleasure that was cruelly uncalled-for in her present state of hypothermia.

“Tell me more about your kin, Master Dwarf. Tell me about the people I shall meet so I shall know them when I see them.” She begged, extending her arms to make him sit down by her side.

“Are you still cold?” He asked, alarmed, as he settled next to her. She slipped back under his arm like a child, feeling frail and shivering, but sighing contentedly.

“I shall be warm in a minute. Look at the fire, Master Dwarf, what beautiful things we could fashion if we had the tools and the time.” She murmured, fatigue making her voice grow slow and melting, like honey dripping onto his senses.

He was aware of her slowly heating up flesh and her tiny hand resting innocently on his thigh as she was snuggled against him the way his nephews had when they had been but tiny little things. Only, he had never felt the fire pass from the hearth in front of him into his bloodstream when his nephews had sought solace or protection under his wing. He had not wondered about the way he might feel or smell when they had been this close to his body.

“I think that you’ll like Balin. I really do. He’s kind and smart; he’ll love the stories about your nan. Ah, you’ll get to meet Dwalin as well, he’s…probably my best friend. He’s solid, but he’s…there’s a reason he’s my best friend. We’re…less courteous than we should be.” Thorin started to honour her wish. “You’re lovely, stop it.” She mumbled hazily.

He thought about her words and about the mussel shells he still kept in his pocket. She was right, if he had the tools and the time, he would make something beautiful for her; she deserved something frivolous and gorgeous for all the help and devoted service she had offered him.

His eyes fell on her feet that were extended away from him and he was aghast to see them take a blueish hue. She was not falling asleep; she was succumbing to the surrounding cold still.

“Close in, oh stone, protect her.” He whispered, but the rock around him seemed to mock his words. “Close in, oh son of stone, son of ore, protect her.” Voices thrummed through the unmoving walls, and so he did.

Gathering her up like a bundle of empty clothes, he pulled her into his lap, leaning back against the stone wall and held her there.

Looking down, he saw the naked expanse of her legs which made him feel like an idiot for not having thought of that before. With one hand, he bent her legs at the knee and tucked them safely into the hollow he had created by spreading his own.

She lay flush against him now, he could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his own and, when he pulled his cloak over her gently, his hand brushed the smooth skin of her unclothed thigh.

Just a hand-breadth higher he would have brushed against other parts, secret parts, that were much like his dinner: firmly closed now, but if heated just right, revealing a glittering pearl.

This was a very inopportune thought to have, he berated himself, as his body heated up against his will, making her press against him with ever more fervour.

A maiden, she had used that word, and despite being clearly of age, he wondered if she had meant that in the most allusive and perversely seductive of senses.

When had that plague ravaged her village? When had old nan died? How long had she been alone?

It didn’t matter. She would not consider sacrificing that most precious of prizes to one such as him…She had not denied him anything this far, he remembered, not her time, not her care, not her boundless courage.

Not this though, he curbed his own fanciful imagination, never this. He would not ask anything of her, not before he could show himself worthy of all the things she had given up for his benefit this far.

Her hand snaked up and came to rest just above his heart. “Lovely.” She repeated in a low, mumbling voice.

And, as she was warm and clearly asleep now, he permitted himself the tiny, tortureous indulgence of pressing his lips for one brief moment against her head, resting against his shoulder as if it belonged there. Maybe…it did.

[tossawary]

Chapter 19: “Weddings and Funerals” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines with commentary because I’m doing a re-read. Not a full list or full commentary. 

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 When Shang Qinghua told Mobei-Jun that he didn’t need Shen Qingqiu assassinated, it wasn’t because he thought everything would somehow work out if he just sat back and didn’t do anything. It definitely wasn’t because he was planning a so-called “perfect murder” and didn’t want the demon lord messing up his plans. The Problem of Shen Qingqiu has always been a lot more  complicated than “just get rid of the guy potentially making my nephew’s life a living hell”. That’s why it’s a real problem! 

- 

AN: Shang Qinghua’s thought process: “Can this problem be solved by: 

A) Waiting for the problem to go away? 

B) Murder? 

C) None of the above? 

If the answer is C... 

Fuck, it’s a real problem.” 

- 

 Shang Qinghua thinks that might actually be possible, though he’d have to do some research and smack his head until his Author God memories hopped into line. He thinks that the youth-restoration procedure would probably do the job, but he also thinks that Shen Qingqiu would probably rather be dead than be physically sixteen again or something (super fucking understandable) and have to start the cultivation process over from scratch (ah, that would be so annoying and embarrassing). 

- 

AN: Given that I actually invented a de-aging potion for this fic (if one that’s difficult to put together), the AU of “Original Shen Qingqiu is physically 16 again” has been rattling around inside my head ever since I wrote these lines. Shen Qingqiu was like, “Wait, let me picture how unbearably overprotective Yue Qingyuan would be... hmm... no, I’ll just stay like this.” 

- 

 Luo Jiahui seems a little anxious about the empty spaces at the table, but she fills the space as best she can by chattering about assorted restaurant business. At least until she abruptly takes a deep breath and says, “Hua-Ge, I have something to tell you.” 

 Shang Qinghua freezes in the middle of taking a drink. His unhelpful brain immediately races to guess the worst possible conversational subjects. His sister-in-law has somehow figured out that he’s a transmigrator?! His sister-in-law has decided that her son is not going to the Demon Realm under any circumstances?! His sister-in-law knows Binghe better than he does and has realized that the young protagonist is being abused after all?! Oh,  fuck, what is it? 

 “I’m getting married!” Luo Jiahui announces, breathlessly. 

 “Oh,” Shang Qinghua says, heart rate going at the speed of sound. “Wait,  what?” 

- 

AN: This chapter is why I didn’t go into the details of LJH/LQG in the last chapter, immediately post-timeskip. I wanted to blindside everyone with an “Oh, it’s THAT serious?!” moment. The last chapter established that “SQH is handling things”, then this chapter establishes that, as the plot goes on, “SQH is only barely handling things”. Which helps prep the following breakdown with the System World Update in chapters 20-22. 

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 “You didn’t have any time for yourself,” Shang Qinghua agrees, following this conversation of very obvious things that he already knew so far. He didn’t have any time for himself back then either, between organizing a conference and finding a cure on top of the usual day-in-day-out of the sect. “You did a really good job looking after them all by yourself!” 

 “They don’t always agree with that,” Luo Jiahui says, smiling but self-deprecating. 

 “Aha, well, they’re young.” 

 The disagreements of what was best for the children is why Shang Qinghua really had to get Fanli (who didn’t see herself as a child) out of the house by any means necessary. He was at a bit of a loss at how else to help. She was never part of  Proud Immortal Demon Way! Not even as a fragment of backstory mentioned in passing! Shang Qinghua struggles to compensate for these extra people who were never characters sometimes. 

 “Qingge was very understanding,” Luo Jiahui says. “But… well… then Fanli was gone and I had the restaurant keeping me busy, but that was all my own choice… and what good was waiting really doing us? It didn’t have to be everything or nothing. So… we talked… about what we wanted and what- what we were afraid of… and we decided to go forward slowly.” 

- 

AN: I said in the Author’s Notes on AO3 that I was going to use Jiage to shame Moshang and Qijiu, and I meant it. TALK TO EACH OTHER!!! Shang Qinghua, you need to talk to Mobei-Jun about what you want! Shang Qinghua, you can’t keep putting things on hold because of the plot! 

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 No offense to either his sister-in-law or his junior martial brother, but aren’t love stories supposed to be a little more… fiery? 

 “When I was younger, I thought that falling in love was supposed to be all excitement and passion and not being able to live without someone even for a second,” Luo Jiahui admits, a little wistfully. “I thought that it was supposed to be thinking about them all the time, not being able to stay away from each other, and needing to know what they’d been doing every second they were away. It was like becoming a completely different person. I thought that being in love was about one of us getting horribly jealous every time we even talked to someone else, doing things I didn’t really understand and changing myself just to keep him happy, and keeping secrets and sneaking around just to keep things from exploding. Because love is not being able to help yourself like that, right?” 

 Shang Qinghua can’t really manage to speak right now. 

 It’s like someone has cut his fucking throat. 

 Which is fine! 

 “But that ended really badly for me,” Luo Jiahui says, with a nervous huff at her own understatement. “It was very exciting, but looking back, being in that kind of love was also very frightening sometimes… and it was a little lonely too… being in love with someone I couldn’t really talk to or trust.” 

-

AN: This is more specifically vagueing SVSSS Bingqiu than Moshang, but it’s also shaming Moshang too. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky wrote some extremely messed-up romances and he would have said, “Yes! It’s all super messed-up! That’s kind of the point!” But it also means that the man can’t really conceptualize (at least at first) or articulate the kind of relationship he would actually be happy to have with Mobei-Jun, especially when his relationship with Mobei-Jun had such violent beginnings 

- 

 The first person he tells himself is, weirdly enough, Qi Qingqi. Liu Qingge apparently already told both Liu Mingyan and Luo Fanli before he left, so Shang Qinghua heads over to see how the girls are handling it. (Also, he wants to pump Liu Mingyan for information on her mother’s opinions on weddings and marriage, in a really pathetic attempt to ready himself for the rumble.) He makes her agree to keep the information to herself before telling and she does, like a bro! 

 And then he tells and she laughs in his fucking face! Eventually, she realizes that he’s looking for sympathy, he’s not just here to let her enjoy his suffering, as a form of payment after everything he and Liu Qingge have inflicted on her. Then she laughs at him again, even louder. 

 Sure, he’d laugh too if he was in her shoes! But not to her face! Rude! 

 - 

AN: Qi Qingqi also pointed while laughing, I think. It’s funny because it’s not her dealing with Liu Family shit this time. 

- 

 Shang Qinghua expected, this time last year, to be laser-focused on the plot! His attention was not going to stray even a little bit, he promised himself; he was going to be 110% dedicated to making sure that everyone he tripped into caring about made it through the least shitty version of  Proud Immortal Demon Way  possible. He was going to be a  machine  of a transmigrator! No distractions! All he wanted was for his family to make it through the quickest, least shitty bare bones of a plot! And he was going to  achieve, damn it! 

 Instead, he finds himself planning his sister-in-law’s wedding and it eats up time he didn’t fucking know he had to give. Immortal Alliance Conference, eat your fucking heart out! Cang Qiong Mountain Sect? Did he work there? Nope, he’s never heard of the place! He’s the Peak Lord of wedding planning now! 

- 

AN: This is me telling myself I’m going to get my life 100% together and then getting into a new video game and baking cookies instead. Or ditching my housecleaning plans to hang out with friends at a moment’s notice. 

- 

 At the wedding itself, Fanli tells her sister’s father-in-law that Binghe is also  very into birds and Shang Qinghua’s nephew spends a good chunk of the rest of the celebrations (and his precious time away from Qing Jing Peak) held hostage by his own politeness, listening to his new grandfather earnestly tell him about the various migration habits of demonic birds. 

 Well! Better him than Shang Qinghua, honestly! 

-

AN: Inspired by that time we went on vacation and one of my brothers got mistaken by one of our travelling companions for a budding serious birdwatcher instead of someone who just thinks they’re neat - and also likes to point at them and intentionally call them by the wrong name. 

Also, LQG’s Dad in this fic and SY would probably get along super well. 

LQG and his dad in this universe have gone out on month-long camping trips to in which they pretty much don’t talk the entire time. They stalk monsters through the wilderness and have a great time.

- 

 Shang Qinghua is too busy keeping an eye on Luo Fanli and being  not talked to by Liu Mingyan, who is eighteen-ish years old now he thinks and still deeply embarrassed by the fact that he told her off for her real person fiction. (He doesn’t want to discourage her passion for writing! She’s pretty good for a kid! It’s pretty cute! Everyone needs their escapist hobbies! He just doesn’t want identifying information about his family being spread around freely, even if the characterizations of the couple are… uh… wildly reimagined, and he doesn't want to have to spend his very valuable time keeping a lookout for more illicit fiction.) It’s difficult to read her expression through the ever-present veil, but… yeah, she’s still pissed off at him.

 Ugh, teenagers. 

 Binghe is not allowed to bring several hundred nieces-in-law into Shang Qinghua's life. Just... no. Fuck, no. 

 He doesn’t even get a date to commiserate about this with. 

 It’s a very small wedding, family only (Luo Jiahui’s shitty parents  don’t count  and her older brother was forced to decline the invitation), so that Luo Jiahui and Liu Qingge can keep their privacy. Madam Liu huffed about it - the battles in talking her down were both great and terrible - but her son stood his ground! Sure, people might whine someday about not being invited, but the great thing about Liu Qingge is that they can more or less just say,  “Well, we couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted!”  And people just have to take that unless they want to claim they could take on the Bai Zhan Peak War God! 

- 

AN: Trying to imagine the AU in which SQH brought MBJ as his date to this wedding. SQH would’ve liked to be able to bring MBJ as a date, but alas, they are not dating and the groom would probably try to kill the man. 

- 

 Shang Qinghua is not expecting, soon after returning from his sister-in-law’s happy and long-awaited wedding, to be solemnly informed that Shen Qingqiu’s health has only really deteriorated these past months. Wow, that’s a huge downer. 

 Also, he already knew that? He’s been getting Mu Qingfang all the right supplies to treat their shixiong. He didn’t actually abandon his duties to the sect for a family wedding. He knew that Shen Qingqiu had fallen sufficiently ill to need tending on Qian Cao Peak in the past month and he considered it, well, convenient timing in regards to Binghe’s permission to attend his mother’s wedding not being randomly revoked. Cold-hearted, maybe! But he had lots of other things to worry about at the time, like informing Mobei-Jun that his sister-in-law was getting married and so he’d be regrettably absent to attend the wedding. 

 Then he’s told that Shen Qingqiu is not expected to improve this time. 

  “Oh, shit, they really think he’s dying,” Shang Qinghua realizes. 

 This really wasn’t in  Proud Immortal Demon Way. 

- 

AN: I seriously contemplated cutting this chapter in half because of this mood switch. Like, I went in intending on writing a serious mood switch, but in practice, wow. It felt like a lot more in practice. 

- 

 “Our sect leader asks about the boy and his progress,” Shen Qingqiu rasps, his voice turning more and more accusing. “He’s  so very  concerned about the boy. We can’t have such a beloved child  crying  to his devoted family that he’s been mistreated or neglected, can we? How flattering these assumptions are. It makes a man wonder what exactly people think he’s going to  do to the boy.” 

 Shang Qinghua might have an itemized list somewhere, honestly. 

 “Ah, I can’t speak for anyone else,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “But please don’t take it personally, Shen-Shixiong. I don’t really trust anyone. Anything can happen behind a locked door, you know?” 

 Some honest cynicism can go over well with the man. 

 Shen Qingqiu laughs bitterly now. 

- 

AN: It can be fun in media where Character A is like, “Ahhh, I hope no one discovers my secret!” And Character B is like, “So, about this extremely obvious thing that you’re doing...!” 

Shen Qingqiu is as honest and open as he is throughout this scene because he honestly thinks that he’s dying. He’s determined to be blithe about it. 

- 

Shang Qinghua at least gets to see Mu Qingfang’s face journey as Shen Qingqiu accuses their sect leader of letting him think that he’d left him to die. As Shen Qingqiu yells about being treated like an unwanted ghost, as a potential blackmailer, as an embarrassing disappointment, as a petty troublemaker, as a spoiled child, as a problem to be solved, and as the last blemish on Yue Qingyuan’s reputation - anything but as someone worthy of being trusted with Yue Qingyuan’s problems and of being treated like an equal friend. 

 Yue Qingyuan tries to explain that he didn’t think Shen Qingqiu wanted to hear his excuses, and Shen Qingqiu shoots back that he would rather fucking die than beg the man he’d thought had forgotten about him to explain when exactly he became not worth rescuing as soon as possible. 

 Yue Qingyuan tries to explain that he didn’t want Shen Qingqiu’s pity or to force the man to be grateful that he’d  tried. 

 Shen Qingqiu tells the man to go fuck himself. How could it not hurt for someone he loved to hurt him and then just…  move past the hurt  like the pain wasn’t  who they were? 

 “All the world could revile me… reject me… leave me to die… and I would pay their hatred no heed! What do they truly know of what I am? Of who I am?” Shen Qingqiu demands. “But if  Qi-Ge  could throw me away… decide that I just wasn’t worth the  trouble anymore now that he’d had a taste of a better life… then I really must be wretched beyond all things at the root! If he believed it, then… then it had to be true.” 

- 

AN: Because I just wrote a Qijiu confrontation over this exact thing, like, a few days before, I thought that I could get away with writing out this entire confrontation in full. I think it works better if the audience has to imagine some of it. And because SQH is the POV character, it felt right that he not be in the room and not be a full witness to this scene. He doesn’t get to see everything. 

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Uuh dunno if you would like this prompt : Anna and Elsa as a mythical creatures.

Would love too see what you will write them as ^^

@like-redhead-probably I sat thinking about this ask for a long time, because while I IMMEDIATELY thought of one for Elsa, Anna’s absolutely eluded me. And I know you were probably looking for a story, but I am unable to stop myself from first EXPLAINING my choices xD

I was already thinking about the myth of the Hulder (or huldra if we’re speaking of the creature in general instead of the specific Norwegian myth) for other story-related reasons, and as I did more research, I felt like the Hulder REALLY shared similarities with Elsa.

Generally speaking the huldra is a Scandinavian myth of a pale skinned, blonde or brown haired, attractive young woman who lives in the wilderness, often luring men away with song or dance to be killed or misled, stuck wandering forever. Sometimes she’s connected strongly to water, and instead of making men lost, she drowns them. Sometimes she is described as similar to an elf or fey-like creature, with characteristics related to other Huldufolk (we’ll get to them later) such as living in a parallel world, or a world Underground, and therefore preferring caves or appearing and disappearing suddenly. Sometimes she is depicted as having a hollow back, or a cow’s tail, which she hides out of embarrassment or to conceal her true identity. Which… how cute is that?

Before the 11th century, the myths were focussed more around the Huldufolk, which literally means “Hidden Folk”. There are lots of stories as to why and how the Huldufolk came to exist, but for the purpose of Elsa I think it most appropriate to look at the Christianization of the myths. Why?:

Frozen and Frozen 2 are modern movies made by an American company and Christianity is nigh untanglable with American culture, they take place in ~1840s Norway, F1 has a dedicated place of Christian congregation depicted in said movie, an official royal crowning overseen by a Christian faith leader, and the adaptation of Frozen generally comes from author Hans Christian Anderson and therefore should take his life and society into account, etc.

The Christianized myth says that one day Eve was washing her children (presumably after Cain, Abel, and Seth) in the river, when she heard God approaching. Ashamed that He would see her kids unclean, she hid the half she wasn’t done bathing, and when God asked, “Where are the other children?” Eve claimed that she had all of them present, indicating the clean ones. This gave God pause, but in the end He said, “Then let all that is Hidden, remain Hidden.” The children that Eve lied about became the Huldufolk, unable to live among humans. These people would eventually become characterized as dwarves, elves, fairies, etc., as time and interpretations rolled on, the huldra being just one of many mythical “species”.

So. Who is Elsa? She’s a:

fictional, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned young woman who led thousands of men wlw to wander helplessly into the dark caves and wildlands of social media with a power ballad and a jaw-dropping transformation sequence

Okay I’m joking… mostly…

In fact my interest in choosing the Hulder for Elsa lies purely outside of any romantic or sexual appeal, especially since Elsa as a character exhibits next to 0 romantic or sexual interest across two whole movies and an additional two shorts. Indeed, there’s a reason people headcanon her as either asexual, aromantic, or both! No, the reasons I chose the Hulder are:

Elsa’s name

Her upbringing

Her duty as queen, and

Her general behavior, specifically in regards to Frozen 1, as Frozen 2 Elsa is, at times, an almost completely different character

Elsa’s name was chosen very specifically by the filmmakers because it means “God is my Oath”. Oaths are binding, heavy, and invoke the maker’s or subject’s actions and personhood in the future. In Elsa’s case specifically, it invokes divine witness: perfect for a queen, someone born to rule. A promise to be fair, to uphold, to protect, to lead, to be a dignified and honorable face for the country. And Elsa was so ready to be that… except for the powers of course. Or at least, when they became something other than a magical gift of wonder and joy. When they became dangerous. Then there comes another oath, spoken to powerful creatures of magic, the Trolls, and born from parental fear: “She can learn to control it.”

Binding, heavy, invoking of Elsa’s future. As she grows, Elsa becomes closed off, quiet, hiding in her own home. She still takes her duties seriously, but now that she has been Other’d, taught to hide herself and her curse, she is just as much shadow as person. To young Anna, Elsa must have been almost ghostlike, disappearing right when Anna thought she’d cornered her, only to reappear sometime later down the hall, out of arm’s reach.

God promised Adam and Eve that their children would inherit the earth, even after leaving the Garden of Eden. Then suddenly that changed, due to Eve’s fear and shame of her unwashed children, and some would now inherit Underground, or somewhere else entirely. The lost children of Eve had become Other’d, needing to hide, disappear, and resort to inhuman tactics just to exist. Maybe they’re jealous, maybe they're just tricksters. But it’s not their fault. And it wasn’t Elsa’s either. Another reason they are similar.

Now, it’s not all doom and gloom for the Hulder, or for Elsa. While the Hulder is generally known for her more chaotic and negative attributes - just like our favorite snow queen, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. There are a few myths that say burning a charcoal fire -instead of a coal or gas one- is most pleasing to the Hulder, that she’ll even watch over it during the night, and wake the sleepers in case something happens. If a traveler leaves supplies behind with a note or offering for the Hulder, they will travel safely. In fact, some people leave caches for her, as though to cater to specific requests. Coming across the Hulder by chance can have a multitude of outcomes, but if an astute observer spots her cow tail and mentions it, she may become shy and run away. Don’t mention the empty back though, that’s almost certain death.

Basically my point is… trade out the word “traveler” for the name “Anna” and we can draw all the similarities we want. Anna did all of those things, in a way. Anna gave Elsa a little gift of their favorite snowman every Christmas. Anna knocked on Elsa’s door and spoke to her, treated her kindly despite the distance between them, literal and metaphorical. It’s not hard to imagine that Anna left little notes around the castle, hoping Elsa would find them, read them, and know that Anna still loved her, still missed her. And, well, hopefully Anna wasn’t setting any fires and falling asleep next to them - but Anna always kept a light on for Elsa, in her heart. And it flickered and wavered sometimes, but it was a strong fire most days. And we know Elsa was always drawn to it, drawn to Anna because she loved her right back. Loved her first, even. And because it was a warmth that pleased Elsa, she tended it, quietly, carefully, warmly. Like putting a blanket over an Anna that had fallen asleep in the painting room, refusing that slice of chocolate cake so Anna could have two desserts, and listening, for hours and hours, days and days, for the sound of Anna’s glorious bonfire-like soul outside her bedroom door. Even when her secret was revealed, Elsa believed that the best way to protect Anna’s life, her flame, was to distance herself, running to a secret, special place all her own - much like the Hulder might run away back to the Underground.

And this last part’s just me, but I’d like to think that if the Hulder was treated kindly, respected, and given dignity, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if someone came across her accidentally. That instead of being instantly drowned, or the Hulder becoming sheepish and attempting to run, it would feel recognized. It could be called by name. And instead of feeling the need to hide it’s Otherness, it could be treated as part of it, and cared for just the same. I don’t even need to be subtle here: Anna called Elsa by Name, really saw her, and reframed her darkness into light. Anna hasn’t fought God yet, but she did walk through hell and back for a sister that everyone else saw as a threat, monster, and sorcerer. A category 9 Other. Too bad for them, Anna’s got a Category 10 heart.

Speaking of. We finally got to Anna.

Anna was difficult to pin down because to me, Anna is so very, very human. That’s what makes her special! Yes, yes, you could throw any mythical creature at Anna and the fun part would be trying to make it work within her personality and characterization BUT since the question was Anna AS a mythical creature, that changes the game! The word ‘creature’ itself tends to conjure something distinctly INhuman. So I…. tried, and cheated maybe a little. Because I picked for Anna the Norse Valkyrie.

Most people know what Valkyries are so this one takes significantly less explaining. Valkyries are women that are warriors, shieldmaidens, and the hands of Odin, and they choose who lives and who dies during battle. Their chosen dead ride with them to Valhalla, while those they choose to live are usually granted honors in life. There are the darker sides of Valkyries that paint them as blood hungry maidens waiting on the sidelines before a war, singing the names of who will die with glee… but generally speaking the version of Valkyries that most people know and admire today are accurate! And thank goodness because attempting to depict Anna the other way would probably give me an ulcer.

Anna, much like the Valkyries, is a woman of valor and strength, who is perceptive, guides others, sees into people’s hearts and reveals their goodness. Valkyries are also warriors of prowess themselves, and Anna in Frozen 2 with that ice sword? We all know she was ready to use that for real. She also exemplifies traits that Valkyries both look for and have! Bravery in the face of danger: hello Marshmallow, Elsa’s own blizzard, Hans’ lethal sword strike, LIVING MOUNTAINS, and a damn collapsing.... dam. She also defends those who cannot do it themselves: saying publicly that, “My sister is not a monster… she was scared, she didn’t mean any of this,” even if that cast suspicion or doubt on herself, and the crown, as a whole. Anna knew and believed in Elsa, despite all the years and heartbreak and anger. Despite the impossible magic that literally just happened before her very eyes. Belief in character, despite appearances. And once they were reunited, Anna made every effort to stay by Elsa’s side because she STILL had that faith in her. Anna’s name means “Grace” or “of Grace”, and damn if she didn’t extend that to the person others found most unworthy, even to Elsa herself. Valkyries see what others don’t, and their decisions are final.

[Deep breath] SO! You asked for Anna and Elsa as mythical creatures. You got… a small academic paper, by social media standards xD. I intend to write a little piece about a Valkyrie who encounters the Hulder on the edges of a battlefield and… realizes she never made a choice about this particular woman. And wonders why she can’t ;). BUT I didn’t wanna leave you hanging any longer. Hope you like my choices!

Oh also, nobody asked, but Kristoff is a werebear. No research required

[cricketnationrise]

quarantine reads part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

76. The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan: book 3 of the brothers sinister romance series. you absolutely DO NOT need to read these in order. i certainly didn’t. also. its a romance novel. there is sex.

77. Joy: And 52 Other Very Short Stories by Erin McGraw: short story collection. some of these are less than a page long. ideal reading for only having like 5 mins.

78. One Good Earl Deserves a Lover by Sarah MacLean: did i get this from the library because of the title? yes. is it a fantastic story? also yes. book 2 in the rules of scoundrels series. romance novel. there is sex.

79. The Invisible Library by Genevieve Cogman: magical library world at the heart of multiple universe has agents that retrieve unique works. featured universe is a sort of victorian england plus elves and werewolves and vampires and dragons and magic and this book is FANTASTIC. still need to get the others because IT IS A SERIES BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP

80. The Rogue Pirate’s Bride by Shana Galen: book 3 of the sons of the revolution series. look i like romance novels. i especially like that you don’t have to read them in order. its a romance novel. there is sex. also PIRATES and the leads saving each other’s lives.

81. The Queens of Animation: The Untold Story of the Women Who Transformed the World of Disney and Made Cinematic History by Nathalia Holt: non-fiction look at the history of disney animation via the women who worked there. lots of details i didn’t know. chapters are movies rather than years.

82. The Man Who Loved Books Too Much by Allison Hoover Bartlett: bit of a misnomer since the guy is straight up stealing rare books with credit card fraud. he just thinks he’s being gentlemanly by amassing these books. it started off as a feature article and it shows.

83. We’re Here, We’re Here by KM Szpara: tor.com short story, 2 members of a boy band fall in love. management doesn’t like that so starts to control/manipulate the implants they put iN THEIR VOICE BOXES AHHH

84. The Night Soil Salvagers by Gregory Norman Bossert: tor.com short story, cool story telling form with in-world songs/poetry/recipes, very poetic writing

85. The Sisters Brothers by Patrick deWitt: two brothers are hitmen get hired for a job. one of the brothers is really excited, the other starts to contemplate a different life, gold rush era california/western USA, horses, violent, seriously at least one person is killed in every chapter. at one point they burn down a whole lodge. cw: harm to animals, murder, starvation

86. The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin: classic piece of writing about the Black Male experience in the united states

87. The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper by Phaedra Patrick: lonely old man goes on scavenger hunt to find the meanings behind the charms on a bracelet he finds in his dead wife’s closet. travels all around UK and paris and makes friends near and far.

88. The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep by HG Parry: some people can read characters out of books. i repeat. CHARACTERS CAN COME OUT OF THEIR BOOKS. theres a whole diagonalley esq space that houses characters that can’t go back. chaos and danger ensue when uriah heep refuses to go back into his book. magic!

89. Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett: #11 in the discworld series, DEATH gets tired of doing all the things and decides to retire.

90. Death and What Comes Next by Terry Pratchett:  discworld short story

91. Love and Other Foreign Words by Erin McCahan: girls life is about to change when her sister is proposed to, very gifted, coming of age, crush on her teacher, endgame is her/her best friend who is a guy and has clearly been pining THE WHOLE TIME

92. Pioneer Girl: The Annotated Autobiography by Laura Ingalls Wilder:  i love the little house books and this was the first non-fictionalized account of her life i’ve read. the introduction by the editor was especially cool/helpful to read, lots of photos and drawings

93. Exhalation by Ted Chiang: this might be my favorite book of all quarantine. and i read a lot of books. a collection of short stories that all fucked me up, but in a good way? title story contains the sentence, “It’s no coincidence that “aspiration” means both hope and the act of breathing.” which like, how dare you sir

94. Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell: book 2 in the simon snow series, which is a fantasy series created by rowell in her novel Fangirl. She then proceeded to write fanfic of this already fictional series. i’m in love with the meta. 3rd book out in 2021.

95. Salvage the Bones by Jesmyn Ward: set in mississippi before/during/after hurricane katrina hits, follows one family through the eyes of the daughter. tw: sexual assault, dog fighting, harm to dogs, death of dog

96. The Will of the Empress by Tamora Pierce: was still doing my Emelan reread. 4 protags reunite to help out Sandry as she goes to Namorn to deal with her estate and her cousin the empress. whether they will be allowed to leave is another story

97. The King of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner: book 3 in the queen’s thief series, seriously, go back and read from the beginning. political machinations of the king from a (Mostly) outside POV. the gods are always closer than you think

98. The Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson: a very Spanish vibe fantasy novel. book 1 in a series. chosen one trope. new queen stumbles into the resistance. magic!

99. The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley: first book in a mystery series. a young teen girl is super into chemistry in 1950′s england countryside. someone is murdered in her garden. she tries to figure out what happened because her dad is still shell shocked. cw: kidnapping, harm to children

100. A Big Ship at the Edge of the Universe by Alex White: first in the salvagers trilogy. motley crew turns into found family on a space ship. in this world almost everyone has magic. older female protagonist. queer representation out the wazoo, SPACE. boots just wants to brew her beer and be left alone.