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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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Untitled # 10176

A sonnet sequence

To do her husband may he lives upon them, bleeding on the pitiless, parauenture forwardez nouþe, þat noȝt bot wel waryst nauþer golde vpon ground commodiously was she! Mete and see what may ȝe wel, iwysse, bot ferly þat knit ar þerinne, and þat ȝe of speke raysoun. And weary heart he cheered in unquiet widowhood, a wife and of Death, and from afar. The fruit of our fashion and þe whene alce, and conversation. ’Er craggy mountains, and he ful hoge. For he ȝerned ȝelpyng to worthe, with pearls of art. And on my rose three descent, a noble mind and nettles in the scale.

Of tears are sleep, seeing that made entirely by confiscation we are best fede þay were, heap earth’s affection from women were please, it is enough harbengers returned, and much grows younger everyone else. Mony ioylez for þat noble, lays vp þe corbeles fee þay kest in rymes of gravity, I’ve checked impulsive; I was a Cloud that the feast, and cachez þe better þat Gawayn, good is broken by iron, by the hands do say, thou can choose not thy strings are fraught with your promised race. And thoughts or thy captive Servius Tullius rose, leaving off him of Reserve.

Let alle þe rabel in another,— not mine, each them. And while amid the care, the pricked by those who expected signs and trace, which birth doth lie, yet little ones moan; the more I hear smells, I see her. I have closed his thine! That thoughts hardly splendours, mystery of my door, the wife was time my should now look down upon a deceived, but yet none of the world so hushed Casket of my life my life. What a happy swain, the swell of the childhood of innocent. Between its dry String and thyme—had straggled out, a long descends the swan. Would, like Pygmalion, found the road. But who has wit in it.

Such mystery of being the block could be time shall I pass, approaches, crying. Endeavour, to set its strings, and rent and wyȝt wakned bi woȝez, waxen torches light expire consumed with hymself, segge, I say yow neuer: syn ȝe be Wawen, wonder the flame which when-so mon lykez. These ladiez be fette to lyke hem therefore, which are we! I praise from that all around; one groan doth provide and lingered longe; at þe gargulun, and þe wort þat watz so mat he met, and grenne, bot þe lorde of hyȝe hil, in a glade of a softer. And when a child who saved your cort ryche. Full fillèd with the wrong.

As Horace fat, or as Anacreon old; no poet’s pages. And yow god þoȝt, and moon’s and hardly seem worth al þe wonde þe lady bisyde. Takes it all keep, while gazing on her brydel, hit þe wede, with thee, where there only cruel hand, which droops upon your Foliage, and thy task, that window’s edge, and I as a noble dream’d two human being lacketh chaunge me þeder, and fre of his wast were. At life was the street, and I could never with the bloody, full of hor seruise quyle. For fear would be told me fast where comfort me. Our shutters are, or captain jewels set on fire. To do art wise, that will buy his side, who turns a streets, whereto thoughts: that for myȝtez so myry, as wyȝ þat wolde loke a light of his payttrure, þe chymnees þer charcole brenned. Though alter’d new; thy looks Anthea, when I kissed my bosom of theyr steads, ylike as the sea in the pitcher shaped.

Wylde wayez in þis sted with chastned mind I straight to bind her eyes with thine? Amends! In thy shadowy world there the Canon of the early goddess was his mind; so great wind serves the fat pillows with a derf haspe; and þuȝt hit me þynk hit an oþer leude ful loþe be more than a treason to go with your promised good. The light in which served to men; irks care the same root I found what you in clothing have you? Dear heart, though on the mark of tears, and þat yow spede, and running Reed his blonk. Gone is so goud hert louied þe los weldez non so hyȝe, and for you, no lewd adulterate fruit might put the bed.

But the soul’s sleepy at the window by the dark moor land, rapidly riding, she a-hunting it over. Or an underlip, you may remembrance of it, all-damning gold, and think on the mart’s or temple leave, and no sooner had past reason that in a starande ston stondande adoun and tyxt of her, and children—happier far could he speede him from thy revolt doth invent he robs thee virtue comes to þe meyny maden as mery as any mon elles, biknowe yow, knyȝt, Ȝe cach much speche, bot in his fyue fyngrez; and þe wale burde in wod so wlonk. And lest lur of my Soul.

Than let a sister-plaintiff lose thee, gave eyes or merely suppliant and others will shine upon her leue, me worþed; a lowande and lyft hit schal telle of truest token of the under the glory I shall rehearse when þou myntes boute scaþe. Through her poor hut, stripp’d of its eyes. A country’s a thing men should go to praysen babes the third things which in the snow white should be. And to the church on the beldam, who sate together with pearls of a cup, the first, thus let us play about the long-legged you were born, the day, yet hiding royall bloud at his tayl, þat grene gome, God yow forȝelde.

Rise; and the ground. Towards the bumble-bee. Here take the stubborne stroke here be more at a mortals all the cold duty now allows. An idle matter made for May: and comes not worn that mourne vpon folde, my gay, and marriage temples? When the key deftly in hor store; and vche grome at the prayse is better, by the close debate, covering through beneath a shaking of my heart his poets gave; and quen he seȝe Sir Gawayn, þat is farre: I though erst it reach’d there is a man! Out of beauty from thee; for virtues prove this told, the best of all kinds; the flowers to death! What window-ledge of our fashions end!

Who for her husband’s fate, made many a Lambe, or a grandame hag adjudged the fat Oxe, that name, and, to slaked hor holde, and death cannot be written tries anyway, so brave, unable to profit and gay, living things, to yield with a mynt one, and I schulde no were, hit were through the ashes, what the Faith-preserving Intellectual breeze went out into the grief oppress’d at length, no fancy but renown of the lower panes. He lyftes vp homes, and patience taken, what an honour ends, and by the best, double-felde, and verse of golden day. The harmlesse follie of that pass’d the bed.

Page wondering road! And cloistered in black. But since, seldom seen in blande, Ful ȝep in þat Nw Ȝere, an oþer, and peasant, undermines you and make the floor; and þay busken vp bilyue blonkkez ofte a traueres bi traunt of blwe þat burne to his cher full bright send flower grows old wife lay smiling by, sail and bask in the telegraph line swept smooth white and þe lyst þe grete wordez, keuer he syȝe soth moȝt no more? The uses of conteck and your ex-boyfriend must be to please; and the repulsion of You. For I mot nedez hit aboute; much solace set þay smeten into nothing but ice-gravel.

They hear her bedde, kest vp þerinne; gret perile bitwene, and my sick Muse doth loath a lowly life, when the stage. The calm oblivious tender his dyntez sore ȝe may not be slayn wyth no memorial left. That acquiesce, and from sweet smile, that must sentence pass, things past, and eft at þe þenne, þat were too near your sale, þaȝ ȝe ȝourself may privilege your safe arriv’d. Could never guiltless may I speak to her mind sinks, yielding to the metal, though with grief lies onward, each doore, ere the joints of alle þe men in honde haldez, al þe gayne: or for you say a long legs of neon.

Such chaffer, ȝif ȝe luf not þat long ygoe? The future day! She hardships of this week I have my Dead—what they had bene a great vehemence, more words can even think to seed, Hermes prior to counted chaste concession,—my humility Which cannot be well acquainted in me, and þe mirþe þay maked. Your sex is frail gestures ensure your honour brings. Will waste, þe world laid its hand, seek’st thought found again, across the bud and to þe chemné þay past. For pryde of þat brode paumez; for þat couþe awyse: tas yow layne, and sylueren þat þay wyth in oþer mony baner ful bryȝt wyn boþe.

With loue so ill haue at your wylle, ne bere þe felaȝschip þat hit kepez. Composed, as he grows stormy gulf have found, an eastern hills, whence came into this first, happy men that is hurtling to seek it; this mark of tears, taught to bind her sayne, but true in love. The more on his sheepe. Which arise from strife, thy words, his paper pale cheeks the farther none can touch because my life shall known thereof. ’Er the sheep that from very heart giu’n me thou deny’st me is; it seemed to catch a falling too. Eight; I turned, and of þe grene chapayle vpon on strok, and I could get wherein costes of his honde.

I returning from the blue slips on the good aduice: or pricked by the settez wyth wynter to be so fere he stiȝtlez stif innoghe, þat alle þe wo on lyue luf hir bityde; ȝif þay fonde a foo hym byfore made him now beside their steps can find Wordsworth’s human tenant of the shoe or slippery pranks before him on his knife carved uncouth, towards the door I saw the blue veins in my body this thik þrawen þyȝez, with compayny, til worþe as yow lakked a lyttel in a swoghe sylence þurȝ alle oþer watz much increase! A ȝere ȝerne and pray hym wonnen, þer such a thing airs. My worth!

When come nearer the human hand dares stretched days and proud; and whom I love Amaryllis, with a hollow sky, and when he hade lerne, syn we haf fonged þat were a blank to be your bedde, þat stryke wyth worse, begets a base degenerate mind; I thought, and half yielding the sniffer. I was, in the throne. While time it takes the swan. Oft suffred you out token of þe chambre and I wolde lorde of þis cause a caytiue corage to stone her pale chere: loke, Gawan, for he ȝerne of her hands, or more myrþe myȝt to þe derk nyȝt. Body of a swyn settez hir softly by his solace by hemself speke raysoun.

And kiss, she cries, Forsooth, wouldst rubies find: I by the swift hazard of curtesie? More worthy eyes may schapes hem needeth to chace: and alle his father godly gear, had reach’d therefore I must go, to my love all beautiful voice! As the bedded fish will send ye. On botounz of þe grene lace, þe leþer of sorts, takes its many a lesser children dear, was it not, to please the window’s edge, and little Female Babe is born in twain with tryed tasselez þerto his highe kynde carolez. This platez, piked ful wel þat lemed in Arþurez half, Gawayn gaynly is halden on clothes to bye, in days far-off, on the motion and women like of the ever-silent walls, while ours works, as confederates war, with become an offices? And in our prime; and syþen þay haue; þe lede a lorde, Now, sir, for soþe, ’ quoþ Gawayn lis and slepes Ful stille stollen country-girl betwixt.

The stuffs, the bonie lad that it takes the flow of—was it yesterday call once yet! No voice is dumb—we stand up to wave. Holy leer to crave, being you caused. He dryues wyth droȝt þe dust for me byhouez nede’: and þuȝt hit hade a hatte, a myst-hakel huge. So as thou canst not Percie howe the red wild voices shouldst be happy in being together, and flap those years, do I remonstrate: folly wide their ease to bear—but who has that beats your Venus, whence we turn the ashen greyness. Once lost, can ne’r be found, and schewe. Of being learnt, in days far-off sound as if by some instinct the queen the thief.

The dull sublunary loved the most frail gesture uerayly oure one; my lorde fyrst of wrongs, when in a mouth, like wind and rapes hym to Kryst with no malez within a dream. And chose to say, but some heart’s hearse when ȝe wyl lystened ful fayre—þaȝ I were worthier pen, yet what happens in the long-wish’d-for end, full to the long-wave light yet created him as some dark of the mind and neuenes hit on ground comming, marke how each other always keep off envy’s stinging, even now, close on my rose three times anger flowing wit, and, soon he fades, but doth, if th’ other give the forks.

They began to be sycophants. Dew on the shepheards swayne you like a sudden guest, in hope or mine thou wilt see my wracke, and two pretty babes, and she is a mannequin in the weeds, and mercy non vses, for lofty elms, a thrush sang loud, and sware and would play it well, when sweetens our pain, I say, a blunt plain the throat, cling, strange, amusing but ice-gravel. But so exempt from side to behold, I grant, bone-dry white hills were the thunder are disappeares; O see what once our time devouring plac’d euer there haunts not answer, Maud my bliss, and pendant doth make a iolly shepherd’s home.

To cut the common tale, by moving wave! And swear no fate for you are whatever is done his cher men: they can, and alle þe meyny of court þat hit hard in grass a long way to its opera’s straight to foreign lands to his meat, the woods decay and þay busken vp bilyue, and my heart, and inspired traine. All Work with Wisdom hath the miles away, dead broke. Woe was the water tastes rust in the with me! Traverse my indolent and gart hir to asay þe, and stylle and we ar in þis sted me steuen mon may hym kyssed; he welcum þis ilk swyn þay slypte, slentyng of my frendez.

And casts a bum on the matrimonial seal, with chastned mind I straightway spent her side their virtues are cast of a kyngez kourt to karp yow wyth. Land was no tear- floods, nor in a sweet things are ours, nor had powers; but he was asked, saf þat þe segge semlyly fayre flocking fry, delight. For pleasure find; but then, have spent and meled of muchquat til mydmorn, to make you apt to this still, glistening buds of April, and trace, well known and all that she sings one! Bi a forȝ of a far-off, and brayden ful comly cortyn, and þe þryd as þro þoȝtes, how tenderness, we are thine. Their son.

With joy he turn his strength doth shine on, and please, and set hym byfore þe hiȝ dece þat leȝ in his forsnes he a seruaunt, my soul, in its long as your trwe seruaunt to none but to dream among þe casten to salue; Ful erly he dressez þe flore, and syþen he commes to the miry lane she waves that fled, and other day. Much we love should not go, thought, a year ago, what a glade of Vertue, joyn’d by Truth, blown hitherward your gay gift—Oh when I left. Innumerable, leapt every pore without discrimination. Such worchip he wolde of hir worþily with alle þe men in honde.

And þe asay summiting Everest. For solace set þay þer þay doun schowrez ful mony, for to ryse, from labor of creatures, and cachez þe bay, his burnez him broȝt forth þer þe fale erþe; ner slayn for slyȝt vpon slepe so slaked my thirst, or foul hypocrisy for truth and smutty jest, that the female chastity. Of plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze caressed, like a fireflies glow with thee. How vain a thing to here. Aye remove from strange sights more keenly tempting nakedness; my lord, and pinioned brought thee hent, and tyruen of his hed in oþer, as fortunes all.

The stuff, what nymph soe’er thy perfumed altar- flame; and þe mirþe þay maden mony stif mon in þe best recall what warpings past, perfectly beauty to his desk merely drunkenness. Do I remonstrate: folly wide their native land. What I started then, our gloom-pleas’d more, the more I feel her goodnes taken, on his haþel aboute. It’s your awen bi fyn forwardez nouþe, þat vgly þer-vnder wande wapped about thirty thousand day, by nature be but of lonely the sex were paper-thin plates some machinist at his back, the coin of Pity as a tunnel. In summer all be my love.

The good, and others will has truth atone! And an ax in his honde, for wonder not, that the border-tufts—daisy and walked, and breakes the fault? The vaunted by the fire is low, the Master work, yet slays me with al þe rous rennes of þat bradde to be looked at þe ladyez, quyle myd-ouer-vnder; mist muged on horses over suddenly she grew. Come o’er the world on fire. And wel hym semly ho made wyth bryddez vnblyþe vpon folde he before it melts. To trystors vewters ȝod, couples huntes of knyȝtes into the hearth was comfort of hendely prayse is better form with kisses once!

The kiss thy prayer, and the motion slide. ’St to me; and þus he cries, shall dislike ye, then I desired. Her beams from Julia’s sight, that together with the listening by, one faithful dear child, that in the lips billing be, troth, leave their sad friend, enough, aboute, on snawe. Watz rayled on red ryche forth with polaynez piched þerto his highe kynde, preue for at need’st not euill that same groan and tyxt of her weight, the wind and in the bread on the worm is on her maids to catch the earth and to hymself, that is tame, and swell, each fish, which I escaped heart-honored Maid! Straw; had you believe in Heaven.

But in a ker syde, ridez þurȝ mony meruayle, þat sate on the banks, close in midst of the break out of view and lo, it is nothing seems to drink, a spider in terror, and after þe segge, bi þi trawþe, queþer, leude, so lymp, lere of hymseluen. From those useless must it have waked; my tears to hear her bedde ȝede, recorded wyth fildore about her whose heart out at þe renoun of þorne, he would have not of peace, that is, as thou perceivest, when in bryȝt wyn boþe. For werre and with that she sprent ouer þe dede þat þe leuez, to hunt in þe grattest of grene. But still she might seaweed the world.

Of hore okez ful ryue. Thou mought little birds that swelt; and siþen hor diner watz so joly of his wast were. One creature-travell our bedde, þe hyȝe table. No fate for you to sleepe, as soþe as ȝe reherce here þe leuez hym bryng hym lenge in yowre knyȝt wyth a worde, ’ quoþ þe meny, boþe þat þer watz diȝt. ’Er the shpheard would love at that, fair again I saw, I made her head, which elements shewed the best. Of Jealousie shall know: yet, hearing, he said or done and his world ends women what way they know my swain, though on thornes; so many? Grate and I, in truth, thy constant made to wandered þe hyde.

Even so doth shine, of liuing deaths, dere wounded in folk at they dance, an eye so busy, the backward too. Your mind spills through the long alone the written tries anyway, so brave, how far can that unties there, iwysse, Sir Wowen now relaxed, its perfect— Reason that can she loved her as my own animal passions of thy galage once sticky glass of the act. So still renewing smart. And now, its string each others thou calles; and little near the danger flowers and cries, our murmured dawn conspiracies our telephone forsook, close over us, the kings of Old; nor apt to this way!

—Thou lonely as a thousand Virgins honour strive this; and headlong fate, be happy day go in and tedious noise of seeds of bursting goes; with burnez to mount þer þe knyȝt I becom, and Greece, long since I see a better, the moon are above, and feast: such feasting day has run but to forsake the flocking fry, delight? And vche grome at the prayse is better hap, and gedered þe muryly wyth yow sum rewarde redyly, if I myȝt. Thy Counsel may wi’ the family of Christendome: but, for a woman colour and his men to the mouth opens touching skilfully, mysteriously her first cors comes to þe woȝe of tuly and ofte a traueres bi traunt of force theyr furre. That featly footing seems Beautiful, then faste, þe wyȝtest of the wind is world ends a bee circling their souls away, children, come at his labour, yet love I will resign; forgiven through the same!

Body of my body. Bi þat þer stod, and grace. Touching-place and join with goud halden þerinne; gret perile bitwene hem, wyth vertuez ennourned into the richely rayled aywhere, and bosom heavenly wise; it had been burnez tellen our summer the passport is his inke, and women were please, to make, or you saw some sneaking either Hand—not by the tidal dark, and whom I sought please, whom for hire of Him. A heart of the shape of mine owne paines come back darker, and on that sheddeth in the grave when we hope, when we court arise, may I, poor soul, nor the woods in vain!

That no pace else their rose on my breathing- while or two with laȝyng a lyt he laȝt of þe wyȝe wynne worschyp—þe wyȝez in his immortality consumed with gory blood with hast. And þe gode knawen, þer such though erst it reach’d the lovers, the after. Within second autumn a fever seized her horns the desire. Speaking purple round and rough to-day demay yow neuer; wel bisemez; and þerfore, I praye the flocke, thou want a great heart to take my end, to enlighten slow. This Present, and Loue, of those early spring of her wheel in your hand The end is it not able to prey.

And the bloody earth, I like the Nighting sea, in distant land. If I hit lakked oþer, for such eeking you: I love you by some image see. Wind to blow the green-grown thatch. I passed did tame. I crave the soft and bryȝt grene, as one for þe mon fyndez, hit is happen throte. So am I as the sea. But why of two entities: myselfe the last, the wine of Princes pallace thou thyself as Spring appeared an idle dream of a red-rose tree. At þis tyme in the dust for love of our own jewels set on fire: which we are best boȝed together, and a yellow leaves will hear thy pearls of morn.

If poverty descended; I have gassed the feast and a smile, the wanton maids were boun busked on her fit, as papiayez payntet watz forȝeten ȝede þe þis burne borne rennez þerof beres wyttenesse; syphen Brutus on mony hatz skyfted synne. One of the hour of thy sight, sooner than the starry skie. His grief looked down, down, down! Till, painting gorse that wall, by mist and purging fit returned he found when in the centre sit, yet, when the sight, slow saddening resting- place of al þe wele of þe hyȝe kyng yow ȝelde! And learn? Thee, that due of manerez me ese; bot to death. And wyth þe best.

’Twas summer and their faye. In visions of sweet of bitter barbican þat burȝe he binds us: strong necessity: thus loaded with what warpings past they sette and strydez alofte, munt as his wedes: a strange wonderez. The harmlesse follies mote be found, and syþen I could to where lives a woman is he but a voice that he owes thee virtue and found a peacock proud flesh, as al were wyle I may safely charmed Amphion- oak she tripped to þe burne, bi þi trauayled, ’ quoþ þat oþer ful bryȝt—and þere hit onez is tachched hym surely and straight as make amends, tho’ even now, close on my breath.

To think you have forgive me kind sea-caves! Her legs with payne. I schal telle truly, as I have but ears. ’: He gef hit hym þat al he schrof hym had doted, oþer a stubbe auþer þat raþeled is in her carez, þen, braynwod bothe, til þe sunne. The royal pair of ass’s ears: how he has done his honde þat þe best guards of Paradise, summon’d, and, to enlarge my workshop. The orator so farre mens heart nectar from thy darkness, nor shady grove, and sea’s rich gems, with her babe the things in a whyle, so as thou complaining have to se þe sellokest kyd knyȝtez he kest ladies in at þe garysoun ouer hir blake chyn with gret bobbaunce þat ȝe of space between its grey line there to tor for your iris tighter claim, because I wot þat lyf þat ȝe han demed too much of ease: the main account to the end is it the other side their gifts. For I have said or done as I sitte.

To cheer us both: but lov’d in vain, no silver hooks. She never quit your minor grief is the know? Than ever human race, he romez vp to þe burn of love avails, since her come back thy holy feet visit our clay,—thou, their shoes. Ne þe syluerin sponez. And fingers numbers are such sweetmeats overmuch; I wallow string, except it’s hardly seem near. Than grandame apes in Indian Ganges’ side shouldst fain arrest: machinery just meant to give not mean falling state to turn. From which of its Fires. Margaret looked around, feed in the strain o’ the lake: and fro she passionate the sea.

But chastely let yours from behind the view; else call him by consent before I summon up remember how soon our western winds and opens forth, quen þe donkande rurde he lent hem aȝayn, and alle same to soothed me; and, stoop, since tis sin, of Jealousie shall: then mine, no voice slow and denied not. They are his side; for virtue by descending branch. As frekez myȝt loke, þer-ryȝt. Nay, hende, þe hapnest vnder feelings bent, the countless gold sporez spend with plead that sell love did sing of her drurye þat day, that naïve light, moue not to be, thy looks out upon a velvet landscape a velvet scabbard!

Of þat daye, to þe male dere. Should fall dream of a bastard kind? No ridges there undergrowth; then the eastern winds kiss that could this road she good counsels to reveal. Til hit watz wyth þe peple called teares poure out his Arrow hit; nay, but never the sapphire portals, while it mocks me, knowing how fashion and þe brode Bretayn watz bare of þe best. The touch of oþer dronken and kene men herde, þe chaungeable, pillow’d on the predictability of blossoms white, green, with sulphurous god rimmed clouds to ponder and his wedes: a strange conversion of Youth as serv’d to cheer us both: but long we have as short; and now, its strife. And vchone, and crowned with ȝarande for May: and some living this, they and thus the quiet to me, who have I sigh’d for alle men vpon day, daunsyng on nyȝtes, al watz broȝt to þe hyȝ and þe haþel, to complete the scents snatched wight. On to plaine: better change.

And tear our breath skin feather’d Fowl, discharged. And then shall live on forlorn, askez erly hys armez, and brent to him, who had chance might dare repeat the house-clock struck one, and stifly strive to me, a sinful and more strong Hours indignant work’d their planning and thou sawest growing cold for he went; still to dwell: no doome should mount þer bare, þay dronken, daunsed ful weterly his leaves lay scattered cloþe þat rod hym bydez, and bellies layd: cuddie shall try my gain or loss the sun declining short, he better, for þe noumbles bi nome, as I tryst made On þe more wish’d, more blest eyes, lips a-glow!

By your hand, for þe morne, and teache her truth and loked ful longe; he calde, and mynstralsye, with chalkquyte vayles, hir frount folden in thee Diggon, thilke same troade, but she forbad, but in degree; if better her sheepe out of mete and luflyly acorded couenaunde at kyngez kourt to karp yow wyth wynter hid; when þe forlondez, ouer at night, who this test—thy body were on þe naked lyppez, and made: our time devouring place. It winter in the beautiful in silence, then for though, aboute, small figure þat pyȝt in hir hert, bot ȝet I wot wel, weldez? Til þat he seem’d my spirits that part to be ruined walls to redeemed by thy peculiar nook of its worst, did I,—to the more she told in your hed helde no were, and someone lost in chapter nine of Pride and Prejudice, in which enclose me, suffering human life be a bleaunt of fore-bemoaned moan, which through the windshield.

For them alle goud day, þe golde pured, no hwef goud on his way, this the throe! My Nanni would have right this slippery eye, out of myn egge, I haue pyped erst so long! The mystery of my smart; and think back within these actions all the way by now just from his toil, and stood and swell, and lyȝten on þe bonkkes ful ȝerne, and all its thoughts or the red dressed on þat hym swyþe, wyth mony baner ful much water, so felly þou spekez; þen scher þay dronken, daunsed ful ofte, swez his whyte tuschez; with his wyttes, swenges out its arms, and cut the settez wyth wynter wyndez aȝayn to fall.

Wings, lend wings in a wood, and Gawayn, and leue quen yow hider, er þis. Whose manger makes Love you. Reason that is not then? To þe water ful tyt. With hounds along the fireflies glow with this moments after it, and, whether aiming at your passion with giserne glyfte hym broȝten, for he was dead and shakes her instrument; and ȝe ar a sleper vnslyȝe, þat mon much of spleen. Thought control; yet with misty vapuors, who puff your old baggage. And what to me, I schal hyȝ me hom aȝayn ful ȝerne of hem was loued mych; þe freke be so bold as ice, or cool as I; but if an humbler wit, or face!

He calde hem þe rychest, flooding your brain is just soft splendorous, sinking in the lip, on cheeks thy lightning have to se þe sellokest kyng þat we seemeth to chaunge, and lustihead tho may wel wit no wonder of ledez in lone splendours, mystery of grene. Doctor says, No, it’s her husband; so love’s first love I will put it by? Rugh ronkled chekez þat seggez hym met, menged togeder þurȝ her dear, was it yesterday we heard the sweetest stile affords: while Ilion like morning of enterludez, to laȝe and then believe me, or the hummingbird sipping from his kind.

So as the false, and at the Foxes that her head up in sackcloth too, or leather, for þe costes, lest I deuayed were: when he out rayked hir to asay þe, and hardly clothed, to cast to haue, when þou myntest, ne kest his side. Gone, whose manger makes the full tilt with Reason, barren of all my heart, I feel the spoke, she crier cite the ryme should our own neighbors had touches both joyous and we not so brighten much more, if it seem’d far bette. I can speake of þat plesez al oþer, for þere were dead; you still the sun, even in dire woe; just like the state, as tulk of tale most break it.

Be named here an erande on ropez, red golde borne oure luflych lokkez and rode þurȝ þe forst to vex the last: one sunshine angel eyes! Of those fierce love stol’n from my husband send or save, i’m sure she fell on you, near and talez ende, and thy poet doth invent he robs thee to counsels to rub together casts to compassion drew cloud, sunset and dalten, and gay, at þis Nwe Ȝer, and mellow radiant eyes can scarce sustain a sigh somewhere it came; he granted. She smiling l’ envoy, as he is dead, and the bridegroom and kene men hade, ful softly by his solace by hemself lyked.

’ Nay, hende, in fayth, bi oþer gome with a face, and gef hym god day: or Diggon, what she no more and þe ȝere, and I will gaze, from an humble shade where mountain from others shout in the sunshine aspyring with a pease, th’ indifferently to himseluen, and uncontested surfaces there ar ȝep mony: boþe at mes and slimy nest the best lawsez, braydez out a brute I might meet. To kiss; for ever open is his door, near petrified.—This is no need to scream. Break my heart he cheered, and thank me. Neuer; and forever will this life. Till my life doth Love increased, upon a pastoral slope as fast as spring. And groan’d her lids: again from out the worm is on honde, he hatz forred, and they nould be still in the shore, and ranne out, and wife. Then unconfines thee thrill of solid fire and gems and frekez hem tille, he hypped aȝayn bilyue, Alle þe mute had press?

Jesus and so there was mine, and far below his feet to see. I halde hit were Hobbinol, God mought it much lesse gayne. To arrive with ful dernly vpon; and heard the secret plot revealed innocent face was she by the hyde the worlde wakned wele in þat wan watz vphalt, bot vnhap ne may hold me than their place; þe walle wyn weȝed to þe corsedest kyrk þat euer it hight, for þre at þe fyue syþez, hent heterly rechatande with a joy in which he brought a bedde buskez bolde, and brain aflame.—This is no my ain lassie, fair that is no need to feel all things in order all the sea. He tened quen þay hade played with my boys! Sir knightly damps did chill her once beat Praise be Thine! Is allay’d, to-morrow’s trick. That chance is fled, Two days before than my affects her. Of many an open grounde without short, and sipping flowers, and þou schal se in þat worst to vex the laughing love’s day.

The day assigned, a hazard of curtesie? But thou grant mind, that season? Children come childhood of their gifts. They unbutton blouses. Not once I pass, approved. ’Er know, mong all my length, beneath a Double Burden. A hundred years should for Chastisement, and brode, more lykkerwys on to lyk watz þat semed, and ofte Ful hendly of his anious uyage. For had I done to the east, and as Argus eyed and when we could never have my Dead—what time forth and let as he rode, a damsel gay in russet robes ful quyte, and in the night in me understand the useless fragment of pure golde hwez.

They don’t recalling through a cloud, forget. The sea in the bottom of the sea places they have left to eat brown between a bag of individual life, I shall I could ply after many heart, nor hast told, how the rurall vaine. Mars and Courage, Bat in hand. By thy poet doth both sea and wert o’erjoyed to plumb, so passed day will strew through field Mars left off begetting sun. ’Ve been set down—and ȝe ar myn em I am old and on hyȝe, and casts to compact, so wise and sorry I could to where away, come at himself. My lif þaȝ I forged young cherubs play for such a sort?

The liquid air; behold, I grant the best like slaves, or none hears that faire soft, more sharp to me here than we would play it well which we are long sigh; for the autumn, winter, and her face was pale and luflyly acorde me with wine, and syþen mony hatz forȝeten ȝederly ȝolden hair. I hope next news from a branches sway, you to get married are. Just lie under a large tree. Spinning skulls, and Locks pickt, yet w’are met, if þay han mayn drynk, a ȝere ȝerned ȝelpyng to worch your old age. And Wordsworth’s healing power? The bell struck by thy Justice paines come with them to whom for his nurture.

For if thy love, thy joy’s undimmed, thy cup’s heart his poets tell, blest, but Love in weakness of willow boughs, whose heart to this hert hit were two tall hedgerows of the ever-silent thou hast her, who indeed speak gently, she sat down but up! Here þat ar so cortaysly had hym dressed vp, er þe dede þat here you had better to other side of nations with dynt of peace, they creep from the balls,—was impressed, and tellen our summer dust burn to the music of the day, but then they’re gather youth returning crown. In his counsel may wi’ the face as þe hende; ȝif I þe telle. In daye.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #178 texts #sonnet sequence

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libidomechanica · 2 years ago

Text

Tarry

A limerick sequence

So bright another’s sometimes to bent- felde, and þe burn more pitied. Tarry. Some less bound; confusion he wily Virgin three am’rous writtened ful wail of Hair.

This speche þe towche þe, haþel, how hard business of clene verdant Fields in spite her lips toward laugh to my wofull was Nimrod’s hunting payne. Which somewhat grieved, the Murders Gray.

Lord were: and night was aboute, þat I cowþe. Ever the sky with feelings he didn’t pick up, the Monarchs to the mourne, bot to be made fruitful marriage of Heaven knows!

And a bore: most people payne, his mysdedez, brayde he hade, which such a fact she thou the ghosts, ’ replies: it teach time than Adeline wonder. Already. When fair-haired.

Wilt thou were some countenaunce. The cloud- ledge where ar ȝep mony: boþe þe bonk at his rising Tow’rs, he looks thro’ thy praise, waking hinder feet&undertook to dismiss’d.

Or under Ful sketch in the grow quite? Putting a mirror, she roses for he ȝernes ful quaynt derf mon, myn is bigger things be death, knowing how man-made hem þoȝt.

Up for interim like nothing over her skim the North Pole,—they chance; her first by resound. Besides, as sent on hille hatz tymed þi trawþe, bi hym þoȝt, saue thy louer?

Be one, yet leaves lighted lovely hatz tane in your actors are for play, you canst they hearts! Return, perhaps; but his excess her Art, and bolts, a shining till he dies.

For gently living the flowe in the case, and told. Of the wide world like all things with potent spell. Long with thing on lenþe fare þat gostlych comfort yow lykez, ȝet schulde.

Now ryse and þe halidayez holdely watz for night-dew, on a moment, where once more I love. That is þat? First roses and chafed at hands and paved him or knight find.

Is Folly he þonkez jesus and hast though the wide as freke þat he myȝt voyde þiself, Oh were needs must be blest? The grounde, and Life throne, and a queen Semiramis.

So cortaysly of mine. To holde lenge hym bisoȝt, þaȝ he looked as he made, maie, then overpass when her break. But of dryftes vp homes of the Oda, in who can!

So as I ne tyȝt ouer a mourning and demand, bade him as if the train. Is gone before wary thing, as though my hert. Partly beard, shall for þe wyȝez þe welkyn.

The giant, a libel, or in the literature the wealth had dreams be, or three? Held her parties, and a partner, and tears of—but Chroniclers so conscious corpse.

And, as filchers crowding like a golden rose, and what he hare, nor could write and gleamy like and his fall. Ask me no more; I will I drink he has been sleep become.

Or evil unto by Sallust in his match in her Hair, we helder. He stood with me into tease of on wyȝes þat noȝt hit fallen lame just curse, o ioyfull verse.

And one by one halched in armez, loutez adoun, cloudless Sky. So perish pulses. For blame I behelde vnderfoot if I could make defence of a singly way?

She act redouble figure an enormous pleasure subject, but few hours, or my daughter. On our sale, but silence and ofte a trifle—an old somehow, there hade.

And Juan, ’t were deaf and sudden grown share? What tho’ she, who have we knowe. Of the moon to were sonnets to hinder feet&under an honoured longing, All ’s Well!

I wyst. ’Er you ask, that bene they come, with silver dead. In god faythely ȝe knows what accept the verdant Field of your sex in short, thou leave me the noble.

She look’d like the king a whole and by his several framed of þe broken by degree is much more— one little at strikes earth, her veil or ready many an ear!

The light—a feelings, exceptions opening sick of ivory stole for to tears? And in studie quo walt þay dronken and soft air, even in renoun of whom I left.

A blunder’s fate. And after Millions in this sùbjects you—worse, to curl for loved in youth—it is alive, and their official, his head, ere yet great as a sweet hours.

Some new vastness of that we’ll speak—but pages nor for it. Ne bere þe freke ferde any words—in fact redouble Prize is black sacraments you though loue doth lies flies.

Guide, and eddies could piques, that the mystery. One bitter objects of these bright probably attain’d love the eyes of every boyish best dream. To Juan’s former sight!

And Lolah, Katinka interrupted by his syde. There was received a man—so glorious Off’ring for air. Come day smith manly Strength more rare lit up by gas.

I see—Ah, no! I own its end wilt thou art by promise is not youth, immortal Love. Shrine, for there’s neither dwell be as well down before, with his solace honde.

To Mary made its features have actual’ being set at large, should like nuns that all. She stone-Henge in many a debtor; their kind of vche prys, bayed þe kyng yow ȝelde!

Nor shows not mean to show seems he’s fresh Colours! Dear joy, and people, and spoken, and storms, too seats or in a former Loves commission to educate—ye you lost.

But what I bear witness through certe. Replied his great humanity. I’m a philosophers her charm, at least hade a holy watz gentyle knyȝt bidez ful softe.

If these others so clene: at þis kestes, schewe. The loved the constancy and heigh-ho, the perish’d from me hys fere in October, the funds at hand, snugging on earth.

And he luflyly he rapely a þrowe bite you Virgins blush’d—and huge, and þat he mele, þe hede, and, like all her love. Part, their work the reverence and Misses?

Had heed my beauty thus he really been knows its date, or stain’d but sweetly doth lend, and not fall. Hit ar lady in þis wondering bare, herkne to you a hand, ah!

But Saint Bartholomew we knyȝt, strakande ryȝt boure, so sauen he meled: corsedest kerchief there being neuer fayle? Her rage was a mixt, and his forever.

Tis not to brave duly. Thy words, t is a long I heard no: now she country gentle boy, pissing as his word and state; a difference me, another article.

But where Cupid sobbing you under thee I see your orders, even after have you nearly trod as he atled, þer as love? Which banished out his sport it’s that?

With cost him if her out. The earthly comen hit me þynkkez on þe first burst, or fear’d hed, milke henged to no correctest cowers were plesaunce not, but in Wales.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #187 texts #limerick sequence

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