#palm springs gardens design

[unicefindia]

Mulch - Midcentury Landscape

Ideas for a sizable mid-century modern desert and a summertime formal mulch front yard garden.

[bookman-dgm]

Mulch Front Yard in Canberra - Queanbeyan An example of a large mid-century modern desert and full sun front yard mulch formal garden in summer.

[solliciiti]

Midcentury Landscape (Canberra - Queanbeyan)

[reasonsforhope]

"With “green corridors” that mimic the natural forest, the Colombian city is driving down temperatures — and could become five degrees cooler over the next few decades.

In the face of a rapidly heating planet, the City of Eternal Spring — nicknamed so thanks to its year-round temperate climate — has found a way to keep its cool.

Previously, Medellín had undergone years of rapid urban expansion, which led to a severe urban heat island effect — raising temperatures in the city to significantly higher than in the surrounding suburban and rural areas. Roads and other concrete infrastructure absorb and maintain the sun’s heat for much longer than green infrastructure.

“Medellín grew at the expense of green spaces and vegetation,” says Pilar Vargas, a forest engineer working for City Hall. “We built and built and built. There wasn’t a lot of thought about the impact on the climate. It became obvious that had to change.”

Efforts began in 2016 under Medellín’s then mayor, Federico Gutiérrez (who, after completing one term in 2019, was re-elected at the end of 2023). The city launched a new approach to its urban development — one that focused on people and plants.

The $16.3 million initiative led to the creation of 30 Green Corridors along the city’s roads and waterways, improving or producing more than 70 hectares of green space, which includes 20 kilometers of shaded routes with cycle lanes and pedestrian paths.

These plant and tree-filled spaces — which connect all sorts of green areas such as the curb strips, squares, parks, vertical gardens, sidewalks, and even some of the seven hills that surround the city — produce fresh, cooling air in the face of urban heat. The corridors are also designed to mimic a natural forest with levels of low, medium and high plants, including native and tropical plants, bamboo grasses and palm trees.

Heat-trapping infrastructure like metro stations and bridges has also been greened as part of the project and government buildings have been adorned with green roofs and vertical gardens to beat the heat. The first of those was installed at Medellín’s City Hall, where nearly 100,000 plants and 12 species span the 1,810 square meter surface.

“It’s like urban acupuncture,” says Paula Zapata, advisor for Medellín at C40 Cities, a global network of about 100 of the world’s leading mayors. “The city is making these small interventions that together act to make a big impact.”

At the launch of the project, 120,000 individual plants and 12,500 trees were added to roads and parks across the city. By 2021, the figure had reached 2.5 million plants and 880,000 trees. Each has been carefully chosen to maximize their impact.

“The technical team thought a lot about the species used. They selected endemic ones that have a functional use,” explains Zapata.

The 72 species of plants and trees selected provide food for wildlife, help biodiversity to spread and fight air pollution. A study, for example, identified Mangifera indica as the best among six plant species found in Medellín at absorbing PM2.5 pollution — particulate matter that can cause asthma, bronchitis and heart disease — and surviving in polluted areas due to its “biochemical and biological mechanisms.”

And the urban planting continues to this day.

The groundwork is carried out by 150 citizen-gardeners like Pineda, who come from disadvantaged and minority backgrounds, with the support of 15 specialized forest engineers. Pineda is now the leader of a team of seven other gardeners who attend to corridors all across the city, shifting depending on the current priorities...

“I’m completely in favor of the corridors,” says [Victoria Perez, another citizen-gardener], who grew up in a poor suburb in the city of 2.5 million people. “It really improves the quality of life here.”

Wilmar Jesus, a 48-year-old Afro-Colombian farmer on his first day of the job, is pleased about the project’s possibilities for his own future. “I want to learn more and become better,” he says. “This gives me the opportunity to advance myself.”

The project’s wider impacts are like a breath of fresh air. Medellín’s temperatures fell by 2°C in the first three years of the program, and officials expect a further decrease of 4 to 5C over the next few decades, even taking into account climate change. In turn, City Hall says this will minimize the need for energy-intensive air conditioning...

In addition, the project has had a significant impact on air pollution. Between 2016 and 2019, the level of PM2.5 fell significantly, and in turn the city’s morbidity rate from acute respiratory infections decreased from 159.8 to 95.3 per 1,000 people [Note: That means the city's rate of people getting sick with lung/throat/respiratory infections.]

There’s also been a 34.6 percent rise in cycling in the city, likely due to the new bike paths built for the project, and biodiversity studies show that wildlife is coming back — one sample of five Green Corridors identified 30 different species of butterfly.

Other cities are already taking note. Bogotá and Barranquilla have adopted similar plans, among other Colombian cities, and last year São Paulo, Brazil, the largest city in South America, began expanding its corridors after launching them in 2022.

“For sure, Green Corridors could work in many other places,” says Zapata."

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, March 4, 2024

[pricetagged]

The usual from me, I'm afraid. I'm back at my nonsense, typing up wife-hunter John while I take a break from tidying my apartment (: Here's part iii! (there will be more reader/john in part iv )

Masterlist l Previous

Content: More stalking, manipulation, voyeurism & marital sabotage. John's a bad man and I want him viscerally <3

----------------------

It tears at him, rends flesh from bone with sharp little teeth. Corrugated. Rusty. It poisons his bloodstream, boils blood to madness and burns to feverish pitch.

It's a trap of his own design, and he just had to poke at it. He set it up, jaw wrenched wide and trigger taut and, god, he had to touch it. Had to feel the bruising pleasure bloom then give to something sharper. Sweeter.

In his more reflective moments he wonders if setting up the cameras was a good idea. He's a possessive old bastard and he's torn; not because of any hand-wringing morals, no. No, but rather that he's left himself licking along the knife's edge, close enough for it to cut if he presses hard. He can touch it. It's in his grasp, but he's not fully confident that he's the only one wielding it.

There are too many variables still.

And it's left him here, testing the pressure of the razor-sharp rim and wanting to dig deeper. (He fisted at himself harder than usual that night, flesh aching and engorged and throbbing as the cold metal of your wedding ring bit at the veins and ridges of his length).

The screen is his most hated ally. Pixels and light; the blue sheen. The static blur that raises the hair on his arms as he caresses your image. It's the sweetest torture, watching you boxed in by the four corners of a machine. Gazing on only the impression of you, shadowy and reflective, pacing the monitor. It's peiskos, but wrong. He has you in his home, but can only see and touch you in artificial impotence. It drives him wild, makes his throat ache and his head hot watching you, but not knowing how you taste.

That's not him, he thinks, having something that he can't fully possess. Even the bottle of 1926 Macallan locked in his cellaret has been cracked open, rolled around the palate and savoured before returned to the shelf. Locked safe behind glass, yes, but within reach.

He has to see you again. The trap is tightening, and isn't it funny that it's caught him too?

(His hand moved faster, pleasure simmering as he watched your wide eyes turn glossy and your voice grow thick. 'I don't know where it went! It must have fallen off in the garden, I swear!' Even being unable to taste it, to lick at your tears and feel you tremble-

-it had him tensing his thighs, body clenching in anger and heat as he listened to your apologies. As he listened to your pathetic, half-hearted moans. The way you gave in so sweetly, so eager to please and make good. Your husband's disgusting, breathy grunting. Weak. Unsatisfying-

-But it had his palm tightening around the tacky, swollen flesh at his tip. Slit leaking as the rage boiled his blood and sent it south in a paroxysm of rapture).

He sees Buck before he sees you. It's a necessary evil. No, that's not quite right. It's inevitable; it's reasonable. He needs to lay the bait, shuffle the leaves over it and let nature take its course.

It's a classic pub. A real boozer, where the floor is always slickly sticky and the walls are a cheery, tobacco-stained yellow. The kind of place that serves only pork scratchings and pints.

Your husband didn't expect to see him there. Fox in the henhouse, only he's too stupid to realise that he's the bird.

"System is running well, mate! Thanks. This round's on me," he claps at John's shoulder and does admirably well at hiding his nerves.

It has him smiling into the pint glass, schadenfreude as your husband subtly stretches his aching palm and paints on a wary smile.

(Foot hovering just above the spring; steel teeth ready to -)

"You here alone?" John sips at his drink, eyes scanning the dingy room until - yes, there in the corner he sees a familiar Union Jack cap. Good lad.

"No, no. My mates have just left. Like to linger, you know, for the company," he sends a wink to some pretty thing nursing a G&T by the window.

"Not enough company at home?" he tries to make it light, hoping that the gravel in his tone could be mistaken for interest. And it is, really, if prey drive could count as mere 'interest'.

Buck scoffs, rolling his eyes in a way that looks a lot like rolling belly-up. 'Tell me I'm a real man, look at me! I've got the pick of the flock'. "You know how it is. Gets boring, fishing in the same hole all the time, eh?"

"I wouldn't know," he hums, eyebrows drawn low in faux-consideration. Meets him dead in the eye, lets the mask drop for a just a second. Let's the words come out flat and dangerous. "I've never had a problem reeling in what I want."

The words linger, settling heavy and awkward in a way that has him licking his teeth. Tension so thick he can chew it, feel the fat and gristle rend under the strength of his jaw. It's heady watching the way your husband flounders, not sure how to react until the pack leader backs up and loosens the canines at his nape. Lets him breathe. It's a joke, really. Go on. Laugh. And he follows suit so easily. It's almost boring, he thinks, with eyes cold and muscles frozen under his fake smile as he watches the man chuckle.

"You've gotta stay, Price, that's a good one. One more drink, c'mon." Funny. He thinks that it's his right to give orders. He thinks that John's staying at his command.

John taps twice at the foamy rim of the glass. Catches his sergeant's eye from across the room. "Sure, why not."

It's time.

It's masterful, really, how well Gaz slips over. Greets Buck like an old friend. Drops hints and in-jokes that have the man chuckling along as his eyes flit about with confusion.

"Can't believe I've run into you, here. I thought I'd seen the last of you when you moved house, what, a year ago?" Kyle slides into the barstool on the left. Boxes him in, piggy in the middle. "Still with that finance company?"

"Yeah, yeah it's been a while," he trails off. Too proud to admit that he doesn't know Gaz. Has never met the man. John can feel the way his eyes keep flicking towards the side of his face. Needy. Histrionic.

"You lads catch up, have fun. I'm away for the night," he sets the empty glass at the bar with a soft thud. Makes a show of introducing himself to Gaz and waving the two of them off.

In the cool air of the smoking area he has a moment of fika. Cars roll by on a distant road. The muffled sound of laughter and murmuring filters through frosted pub windows. The rich, heavy smoke of his cigar swirls around and around until he's closing his eyes in the haze. It's slow, calming, and he takes a moment just to appreciate the hand that he's about to play.

He thumbs over the smudged screen of your husband's phone. Only 2 missed calls and 1 text.

>>Sorry to go on at you, but you said you were finishing work at 5 today. It's nearly 8 now. Can you at least let me know where you are? We were going to start that series tonight and I've been getting worried waiting for you :/

Poor, sweet thing. Polite, too. All love and care wasted on the pathetic, juvenile lump slumped over the bar right now. 

(It whets his appetite, seeing how well-trained you are. How you toe the line, defer to the farcical rules set out for you in your relationship. 'Stay at home. Don't blow up my phone.'

Would you come to heel for him? If a weak, useless hand could shape you so well, what could a strong one do?)

<< Sorry, baby. I goty caugtht up at the pub w some friends. HAd a few drInks. Cmome and get me? [LOCATION SHARED]

He flicks the stub of the cigar away as he pockets the phone.

Curtains up; show about to begin.

He settles into his seat, a well-worn booth. Threadbare, stained upholstery and faded coasters. It's shadowy here, tucked away in the corner but offering a perfect line of sight to the door. And right by that very door is Gaz, your husband, and the pretty thing from earlier.

The bell jingles; wind whistles in.

Gaz lets his grip slip, lets your husband slump in the seat until his head is resting against the neck of the woman he was chatting up. Fingers inching up her thighs as she laughs and flirts back.

"What..?" it's too noisy in here to hear you, but he's listened to your voice over and over. He knows just how your pitch is rising. The slight crack on the final consonant.

You stand, face screwed up as you try to make sense of the situation. But two plus two can only ever equal four, and your husband's hands up a skirt can only ever equal- 

"Hi, gorgeous. Here to meet someone?" his sergeant grins up at you. Plays the charmer so well. "Got an empty seat with us, if you fancy it."

There's a little bitterness cutting at the furl of your lips. You're holding it in so well but, god, the words must burn, coming out like bile. "What, sure that I'm not interrupting something?"

"No, no. He said he's just having a little fun. Said he wants something warm before he goes home to his bitch wife," Gaz chuckles, leaning towards you like he wants to whisper a secret. "Bit sick of hearing his complaining, if I'm honest. Makes her sound like a right harpy. But you could take my mind off it."

"Not sure about that," he sees the way your chest hitches. Sees the sob that you swallow down as you steel your expression. "I am the 'bitch wife'."

And it's magnificent. Kyle's played his part so well; stuck to the script like he's performing at The Globe. An ad-lib here, an improvisation there. He hands you a napkin, rubs at your shoulder as he looms over the treacherous tableau he fashioned for an audience of two. You, and John. Ache and Hunger; betrayal and mastery. He maneuvers you, keeps you from causing a bigger scene as he hauls your husband by the scruff of his jacket. Choreographs the steps so that John can see every last microcosm on the universe of your face.

It's his set, his design. He's the architect, director, and audience all in one.

(And that foolish, stupid player of yours tugged at the lure. Found himself swinging, tied up in the string).

--------------------------

Ik reader wasn't really present here, but had to get the ball rolling (: Also I've been stressed and not sleeping so forgive me for this being a bit...

And yes. John stood there and put all the typos in that message on purpose. Unhinged.

[almondmilkcleanser]

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐇. 𝟑

𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋. You're a fox youkai who's just been betrothed to be married to this anonymous demon. But is he really that anonymous? He looks.. familiar.

✥ ` ■ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. f!reader x sesshomaru ✥ ` ■ 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. Arranged marriage; opposites attract; ✥ ` ■ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. my perfectionism don't like det. ✥ ` ■ 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎. Teresa - moments x where roses bloom ✥ ` ■* 𝐀/𝐍. — Happy holidays <3 Leave a comment to be added to the update list! ✥ ` ■ 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐊𝐀𝐈 - @hisokaswaifu32 all-the-thngz-i-nvr-said traumatizedgirly meontheblock002 tcapter luv-for-fictional-characters rlurvey obsessedalpaca bontensbabygirl bunniotomia

“Explain this “arrangement” to me right now!” the castle consorts hid their faces in their palm. Your brash mannerisms were nothing new. They were encouraged even by your father despite your mother’s attempt at teaching you to be a studious, demure, quiet lady. 

“Oh, Y/N. This arrangement was long arranged since before you were born. You see, Sesshomaru’s father, the great Inu Taisho-” Sesshomaru nodded his head slightly at your father, giving him the OK to continue. 

“Him and I would meet during the seasons. “Oh, my daughter!” your father clapped his hands together. A triumphant smile plastered across his face. You stood next to Sesshomaru, your face flustered, grimacing and grumbling under your breath.

“Daddy! Explain the meaning of this!” you stomped your feet against the wisteria covered steps. Your father met the two of you outside of the castle gates inside the garden. Speckles of violets and morning glories danced in the air around the two of you; bright pigments of lavender, green, sage and yellow in preparation for the spring. It was going to be a beautiful spring according to the season oracle. But none of that mattered right now-

And its through his skilled knowledge of the land that we were able to expand our kingdom into such a beautiful creation that it is today. No war. No famine. Our kingdom has been designated to aide in a kingdom’s beautification from near and far. Sesshomaru was but a child then, but we agreed that if and when i have a daughter, she would be his bride. 

“Well, what if I don’t want to be his bride!” you protested, glaring at him from the side of your eye. Sesshomaru returned your stare with a his own. Letting off a short chuckle as he looked away.

“You see, daddy! He doesn’t even want to proceed with the arrangement. And besides, he’s too soft-looking. You said it yourself that my husband needs to be a warrior!”

“Y/N, don’t be so crude, sweetheart.” your mother looked over at Sesshomaru apologetically. His expression remained neutral. “You can’t outwardly judge someone so harsh-”

“I’m assuming you’re going to blindly negate from the fact that I saved you from that large demon outside in the fields.” your father’s eyebrows shot up. “Your life was nearly over if I didn’t find you when I di-”

“I didn’t ask you to do that!” you huffed, crossing your arms as you looked away. “I would have figured out a way to take him down.”

“With a measly hand blade? I would have enjoyed watching that happen.”

“Tsk! Daddy!”

Your father pressed his fingers on both sides of his nose. He knew this wasn’t going to be an easy 1-2 process. 

“How’s this. Get to know him till the end of summer. By the time the last hydrangeas fall to the ground to welcome the winter and you still have your apprehensions, we will cancel the arrangement. And in exchange, I will let you choose whether to stay or go. Whichever you

decide.”

Your face softened. Your father must have really respected this Inu Taisho person. With a brattish glance at Sesshomaru, you took a deep breath and dropped your arms.

“Fine. But if this doesn’t work. I want that jade necklace you promised me and 2 horses for myself.” you walked off to the right towards your chambers, leaving your handmaidens no choice but to follow you.

“And he’s not staying in my room!” was the last thing you said before disappearing into the distance.

Your father looked at Sesshomaru with the deepest, most silent apology. “I promise you she’s not normally like this..”

Sesshomaru grunted in response. “If its alright with you I’ll take my stay outside of the castle. I suspect if that one demon was so close its best I linger around for a little while longer.”

“Ah! Yes! A-are there any other acquaintances of yours that we should accomoda-”

“Lord Sesshomaruuuuuuu! Wait for me!!!!!” Sesshomaru’s face showed its first expression this whole time; annoyance. A small green creature with buggy eyes and a large stick sprinted through the garden, his breath ragged and fumbled.

“Ah! My Lord! You ran away so suddenly and I- Hm? What is this place?” the creature looked around frantically, his eyes both in wonder but also in.. permanent worry?

“This is my wife’s kingdom, Jaken.”

“Your wife.” Jaken repeated. He looked around at your father and mother, the servants, and the flowers until it hit him,

“Your wife!?”

“This simply has to be a mistake. No women is worthy enough of the Great Lord Sesshomaru! Just what kind of bribery must have- OOF!” In a blink, Jaken’s face was to the floor with a large knot to his head. Sesshomaru pivoted on his heel, walking out of the castle, leaving Jaken on the floor to catch up to him.. Eventually. 

—

“Y/N! Are you crazy! You have to marry him. Do you not see him? He’s incredibly handsome.”

You crossed your arms, eyes darting bullets at your friend, Saya. Saya put her hands to her cheeks, her bright brown eyes glimmering at the inert fantasy playing in her head.

“To have such a strong demon under your arm and bear his children must be a dream come true!”

“Not for me! I don’t even know this man. He could be an absolute psycho.”

“Or a dream!” your other friend, Miko, piped up alongside Saya. You could see the soft envy in their eyes, but it wasn’t harmful. Your own friends didn’t even understand why you were so apprehensive. 

“I don’t know…” Miko sighed, rubbing her temples. “I just feel like I’m still young. Still wanting to explore the world. Or-”

“Still wanting to pickle yourself for that fool Hachiko. I’m telling you, Y/N. You’re going to get yourself hurt all over again and this time its going to stick.” Saya looked at you and Miko, who you felt was more of an older sister type of friend, with curious eyes.

“Who’s Hachiko?” Saya asked.

“Oh he’s some soldier in training in the neighboring kingdom that Y/N is head over heels about. But he’s just a peasant boy, no grounds for a pri-”

“Peasant boy or not, I love him. And no Sesshomaru is going to stand between us.” You stood to your feet to escape back into the garden.

“Y/N.” Miko piped up, her eyebrows scrunched in concern. “Just- think it over. Opportunities like this don’t come around often for women like us.”

You looked back, your mouth pressed together. Without saying much else, you walked out of your room, into your personal garden.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Welcome to Villa Del Leone, designed by Robert Marx in 1962, the son of Gummo Marx, (I've heard of the Marx Bros., but never Gummo- who the hell is Gummo?), of the famed Marx Brothers, in Palm Springs, CA. You can tell that the son of old Hollywood money lives here b/c of the cool stuff inside. The Hollywood Regency style home has 4bds, 3ba, & is listed for $4.995M. Since we can't afford it, let's look at it for inspirational purposes.

This is an odd way to design an entrance hall, but it seems meant to be a gallery, judging by the spotlights and photos on the walls.

Movie memorabilia.

A framed Paramount Studios logo has the place of honor on the fireplace. Love the pink sofas and the huge classic John Lennon portrait. Funky sign in front of the fireplace, too.

That's unusual, a huge poster hung sideways.

Cool English themed sitting room decorated with real motorcycles.

This serves as a dining room/library. Beautifully done, the purple carpet really makes it pop.

The kitchen's wild quartz counters would make the HGTV designers clutch their throats gasping in horror.

Elegantly dated bedroom has sliders to the pool.

The all-white en-suite has Grecian columns.

And, look at the vast closet. The clothing looks as bright and colorful as the decor.

Nice secondary bedroom. Very calming colors and I'm a toile fan.

Looks like a woman's office.

I wonder if that's an original Beatles drum set. Beautiful guitar collection display wall.

Outside, a the lovely pool. I love the zebra.

This is very nice. So manicured. I like a more natural looking garden.

Very cheerful home and it looks so inviting warmly lit up at night.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/466-Camino-Sur-Palm-Springs-CA-92262/18023638_zpid/

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 1

A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU Hancock x Female Sole Survivor (Nora) Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

\\

[ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ]

\\

Hancock took a steady pull of his cigarette. Perched on the rotting sill of his open office window located in Boston’s State House, he relaxed into the gentle chill of an early spring evening. Goodneighbor had gone quiet some hours ago. He would be concerned if the town’s uncharacteristic early evening if it wasn’t so pleasant. Goodneighbor going to sleep was a rarity, and he chose to enjoy the downtime with several cigarettes and a couple canisters of jet as he attempted to master the art of blowing smoke rings. He would ultimately discover, after smoking through nearly entire pack of cigarettes, that it was a feat that required an embouchure that he didn’t have the lips for — or he was too fucking stoned to do it right.

Flicking the still smoldering butt out into the night, Hancock returned to one of the two limp couches in his designated office space, and flopped down. He reached for the mentats tin on the rubbish-covered coffee table. Why not end the night on a high note?

Hancock snickered to himself, amused at his own drug addled thoughts, “On’a high note.” Because he was high. Ha-ha.

He fumbled with the old tin, eventually managing to lodge the blunt end of his thumbnail into the lip of the lid. The little tin box opened with a satisfying pop. He placed one of the white tablets on his tongue. It immediately began to dissolve, coating his tongue in chalky grit. When he eventually swallowed he was already feeling pleasantly fuzzy. The tingling was in his toes, his fingers. It danced along his teeth and the grooves of his brain. The ghoul sank further into the couch, glossy black eyes staring up at the ceiling, his mouth ajar as his thoughts stumbled from one to the next. He thought about starting a community garden; it would be tucked away from the main thoroughfare but still sizable. He remembered and clung to an old poem from an old book he had stashed away in his desk. He pondered the essence of the whole fucking cosmos. Or perhaps not, actually. He was blitzed and keeping his thoughts in line was becoming more, and more difficult.

When he started to hear whispers he thought nothing of it. On a livelier night he would have assumed that it was regular ol’ street noise. In the uncharacteristic silence of the night he figured it was a hallucination. This wasn’t his first rodeo. He’d experienced visual and auditory hallucinations before. They weren’t typically triggered by mere mentats, mind you, but it had been a long and drug-fueled day and he was content with riding the wave until he crashed.

The whispers belonged to one person. It started as a weak, warbling, like he was hearing someone talk from behind a closed door. Then the voice abruptly grew in volume; suddenly shrill, like he was standing next to a woman as she screamed for all she was worth. 

“Nate! No, Nate, please! Honey, please wake up!”

The ghoul’s brows furrowed. The voice was frantic, desperate as she cried for help.  Phantom hands — smooth, delicate, small — swam in and out of his vision. They moved in front of him as if they were his. The vision ebbed when he tried to divert his attention; it went beyond superimposition when he focused on it. Hancock could feel the sensation of the blood stained Vault-tec jumpsuit chafe under his palms as smooth hands gripped and pulled at the material. He was peering up at the face of a dead man, his body heavy and limp, slumped in some sort of pod that reminded him of Goodneighor’s Memory Den. 

“Nate! Please — please don’t do this! NATHAN!”

He’s dead. He’s gone. Fuck, if his heart wasn’t breaking. It was shattering into millions of pieces, leaving him more numb and empty than he had ever felt. And goddamn, it felt fucking real. As real as the jumpsuit under his palms, as real as the chill that had sank into his bones, as real as the couch he still lounged in. 

A sudden hand on his arm made his body jolt. The vision of the dead man was abruptly ripped from him and in its place was Fahrenheit’s stern face. She was blurry, swimming in a lake of wavering tears. He was crying. Fuck, he was sobbing. His shoulders heaved, his lungs hungrily taking in air in short, frantic gulps. For all of a moment, Fahrenheit looked on the brink of amusement. Her right eyebrow was curled upward and the corner of her mouth was lifting into a smirk as she readied to deliver some snide remark, but then her expression changed. The almost-smirk vanished, the haughty brow lowered, and then a look of awe lit her features. Hancock sniffled, the tears that had been cascading down his ruined cheeks came to an abrupt stop as if the well had run dry. The ache in his chest was gone. So was the dead man in the pod. So was the frantic, begging, voice. He blinked. He took one more big gasp for air to steady himself but it was shaky. He was shaking.

“S-sorry,” he rasped. His voice was weak and frail at the edges. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. That was, uh— that—”

Though he wanted to blame it all on the chems, he knew that that wasn’t the case. That was something else. Something he never thought he would experience in all of his lifetime. For some goddamn reason, the Powers That Be decided to gift Hancock with a soulmate. He was shocked. He was elated.

Fahrenheit’s voice was barely audible when she said, “You found them.”

“It’s a woman.”

“What does she look like? What’s her name? Where is she?” 

Soulmates were a rarity these days, because that’s what happened when nuclear bombs fell and annihilated the majority of the world's population. Fahrenheit was still missing her signature scowl. It made him uncomfortable. Hancock shook his head, reaching for his smokes that were in the breast pocket of his coat — anything to stop the shaking of his hands.

“I dunno. It’s exactly how they say. Y'see through their eyes. All I saw was her hands. And I heard her voice.”

“Whose Nate?” When Hancock glanced at Fahrenheit she added, “You were saying his name.”

There was no way for Hancock to know who Nate was, and yet he did. Hancock knew exactly who Nate was. Nate was his soulmate’s dead husband. Hancock swore, chucking the pack of cigarettes to the floor in a fit of irritation. So much for that high he had been riding. Coming out of the vision, he felt debilitatingly sober. Leave it to the universe to give him one of the best gifts anyone could ever receive, and then somehow make it completely awful.

Fuck you, too, universe. Fuck. You. Too.

[mybeingthere]

Vintage DODIE THAYER 1926, Lettuce Ware

Known as the "Pottery Queen of Palm Beach" Dodie Thayer's lettuce ceramics are old quinessential Palm Beach and most notably her beautiful lettuce soup tureen was considered a status symbol. In Palm Beach Society, from the 1960's-80's, her cabbage and lettuce ware was all the rage.

Each leaf's vein was carefully shaped by her own hands, cast at her own home studio. During this time, Thayer's work could not only be seen throughout the pages of House Beautiful, House & Garden, Architectural Digest, Gourmet and Bon Apetit, but in the personal collections of ladies of status such as Jackie O. Her work was never mass marketed and to this day collectors still flock when her items are found in an antique store or estate sale. But things are about to change. Tory Burch is an American fashion designer, business woman, and philanthropist, who has won several fashion awards for her designs. After purchasing a vast collection from interior designer Todd Romano, Burch struck up a friendship with Thayer that blossomed into a collaboration. For the first time in her life, Thayer authorized reproductions, allowing Burch to replant the seeds of obsession with an updated line of vegetable ceramics, out this spring in stores and on ToryBurch.com. Prices range from $88 for a set of four canapé plates to $158 for a quartet of salad plates. May Thayer's collection continue to touch the next generation.

[tswaney17]

A Hundred Lifetimes, A Hundred Worlds, I'd Choose You - Part 2

Part 2 of this random collection, inspired by @duskwhisperer's commissioned art, here! 🌸 Happy @elainarcheronweek all. 💕

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: None

Word Count: 1,013

Read on AO3. Snippet below.

Elain was knee-deep in the garden, planting bulbs that would bloom in late spring or early summer. Her adorable little nephew sitting next to her on his plump butt, “helpfully” digging in the mulch for her.

“Weady for you, Auntie Lain!” Nyx shouted, flinging dirt into the air and showering his lap. They were working on the section of her garden she specifically designated to the Night Court’s heir. He loved coming over and playing with her gardening tools, getting his hands dirty. If he wasn’t caked in paint with his mother, he was covered in dirt with his aunt.

“Great job, little one. Can you put this bulb in the hole and then cover it back up?” she asked, placing the seedling into his mud-caked palms.

Ever the good listener, he followed her instructions perfectly, patting the soft ground to “tuck the seed in.”  

“Very good, sweetheart,” she told him with a bright smile.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved these fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist: 

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

@shedoessoshedoes

@athena-85

@jasmineandshadows

@nightcourtseer

@nivem565

@debramclaren

@illyrianvalkyriecarynthian

@secretpuppyflower

@justreallybored

@ultadverb

@the-regal-warrior

@roseandshadows

@tcursebreaker

@kingravinger

@mis-lil-red

@eloeloeheheh

@fawnandshadows

@swankii-art-teacher

@miss-bee-cat

@bookhhrelaz

@impossiblescissorspeachpaper

@elrielbaby

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@thoughtsaboutshows

@britishwings

@aelin21galathynius

@saz-griffin

@azrielslight

@bookstaninthesoul

@curiositywoman

@karsyn-b2

@elainsweetcobalt

@emilyondemand

Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[unicefindia]

Midcentury Landscape Canberra - Queanbeyan Photo of a large mid-century modern rock and full sun front yard gravel formal garden in summer.

[orii-blogs-stuff]

Like everything else, Death looked very pretty on Georgine.

Detlinde watched the procession with a frown, indeed, her mother was dead, yet she felt nothing for her. No sobbing daintily into her handkerchief like her elder sister Alstred. Not a single tear rolled down her cheek unlike her elder brother Wolfram, she was simply stoic, her translucent veil covering her yawn of boredom. An on-looker paying close attention to Detlinde’s facial expressions may have mistaken her as an Archduke Candidate not of Georgine’s blood, but Detlinde would correct them. 

Despite her mother never paying attention to her and always spent every moment she could relax, talking to Wolfram or on the rare occasions, Alstred, despite Detlinde focusing her attention to better herself at the harspeil, learning manners, painting, singing, sewing, designing her own dresses and hair styles to start as trends she may pass down her knowledge to her… Less fortunate peers … At the Royal Academy when she reaches the age of ten.. Her mother still stood at her Baptism ceremony so Georgine must be her mother. 

However, her mother would call her harspiel performance at her Baptism mediocre , her manners inferior to her mother’s own when her mother was her age, her singing out of tune and her designs? Ghastly . Detlinde was unsure what ghastly meant; however the fact that her mother ordered to never sing without the drowning sound of a harspeil or to make up her own designs, Detlinde knew Ghastly must have some negative connotations.   

All she wanted to do today was to play tea parties with her dolls! But she couldn’t because her mother fell down the stairs and died.

Detlinde watched Georgine’s body lay peacefully in her casket, her face etched with bruises and a deep red wound on her forehead, it had been a few hours since the funeral procession had started, her makeup had faded since, her cause of death showing glaringly red, for the entire world to see.

Detlinde looked lower, at the sword of Ewigeliebe sunken into her mother’s heart, it had been there ever since the beginning of the funeral, collecting the mana in her mother’s body.

“May Lady Georgine find peace in the Garden of Beginnings and be greeted by the Gods, with open arms.” The Head Priest took out the sword, Detlinde watched as the mana seemed to clump around the sword, the Head Priest removed the mana and shaped it into a feystone the size of his palm before it fully hardened.

And then. He took her away.

Detlinde knew she wouldn’t be allowed to go to the Archduke Conference in the coming Spring to see the Whirlers bid mother a final goodbye, so this was Detlinde’s time to give her final goodbye to her mother.

However, she couldn’t care less. Seeing the feystone being taken away for safe keepings, seeing the remaining husk that used to contain her mother’s feystone be burnt away. She felt an oddly freeing sensation bloom in her heart, like a flower design she would stitch onto her practice cloth which her mother would throw away and make to restart the process again.

It also made her feel angry, like she missed some sort of opportunity to show her mother how spectacular she could be, to show her mother that there were others out there who loved her dresses and hairstyles Detlinde loved to make and Georgine would hate so much. To show that people of Ahrensbach loved her enough to make her their Aub.

A missed opportunity.

Detlinde felt tears well up, it wasn’t fair! It just wasn’t fair! How dare mother die like this?! By falling down the stairs?! How dare she?! How dare she not stay and watch Detlinde flourish at the academy like she did with Wolfram and Alstede?! How dare she not be there when Detlinde would get First-in-Class and not congratulate her?

Sniff Sniff!

How dare mother not give her any good memories of them together so she could think back to those for comfort instead of grieving over a fantasy?

Detlinde poised herself and walked out with her attendants, the funeral was done, now she could finally go back to her tea party.

[deardjarin]

one hundred miles

oberyn martell x f!reader

oberyn comes home.

words: 732

rating: mature

a/n: i am reentering my game of thrones era.

⋆⭑✦⭑⋆

You find yourself walking the length of the Water Gardens whenever Oberyn is away.

Despite living amongst Oberyn’s family and the House’s many advisors, the palace feels empty without your husband. You despise waking up to an empty bed, only able to imagine the touch of your partner. Everything is too big—too grandiose—for just you. But you understand that it’s his duty, even though you wish it wasn’t.

The sun beats down on your skin as you stroll through the gardens. You don’t mind it, though, as the orange fabric of your dress is thin enough to relieve you of the heat. Occasionally, a slight breeze rustles the leaves of the towering palm trees.

You’re studying the colorful fish in one of the ponds when you hear light footsteps. One of the palace assistants, a young man who Oberyn is quite fond of, approaches you.

“My Lady?” He asks, a bit breathless. You smile, turning away from the shallow pond.

“Yes?”

“Prince Oberyn has given us orders to prepare a bath for you. His Highness wants you to soak for as long as you’d like, and-“ He hesitates, cheeks red from embarrassment. “He’d like you to forgo clothing for his arrival.

His request isn’t what surprises you: it’s his return.

“He’s coming home today?” You ask, taken aback.

“Yes, your highness. Prince Oberyn left King’s Landing a few weeks ago. He said you’d pull out your hair from waiting if we told you.”

You curse softly; your husband knows you too well.

“Thank you,” You tell the boy, dismissing him with a flick of the wrist.

Later, the heat of the bath is a welcome sensation, relaxing your tired body. Rose petals float atop the water, filling the room with a floral scent. You take your time washing each part of your body, massaging deep into your skin.

Suddenly, the double doors to your bedroom open.

You cover your bare chest with your hands, prepared to shoo the unwelcome visitor away. But, instead of a nosy guard, your dashing partner emerges from the hall.

“Oberyn?” You squeak in surprise, watching the doors swing closed behind him.

He smiles, and you’re sure it’s the happiest he’s been in weeks. He’s draped in the robe he always wears, adorned with intricate gold designs and tied at the waist. There’s a tension hanging in the air, thick like fog on an early spring day.

“Hello, my dear,” He greets, slowly crossing the length of the bedroom. You drop your arms back into the water, leaning against the edge of the basin.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home so soon,” You tell him. “I actually had no idea when you’d be returning, because you never told me.”

Oberyn chuckles softly, avoiding your gaze by studying a bottle of wine from the year 285. He always keeps a bottle and two glasses on the vanity, which are perched on an ornate gold plate.

“I never know how long these trips will last,” He says, a bit defensively.

“I’m not mad at you, Oberyn,” You say softly. He meets your gaze, expression soft. “I know you were gone for a good reason. I will be mad, however, if I do not get a kiss in the next few moments.”

Your lover grins, approaching the side of your wash basin in a few wide strides. He lowers himself onto his knees in order to be face-to-face with you, as the wooden basin is quite low to the ground.

Oberyn Martell kneels for no one but you.

“My beautiful wife,” He murmurs, cupping your face in his large hands. His wedding band is cool against your warm cheek. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

Oberyn kisses you gently, relishing in the first contact you’ve had in weeks. You lean into the kiss, but refrain from grasping onto his hair. He nips at your bottom lip before pulling away, much to your disappointment. Silently, Oberyn undoes the tie around his waist, dropping his robe to the floor and leaving him in his sleeveless tunic. He reaches into the water, grasping your arm and pulling it to the surface. He lowers his lips to your wet skin, kissing down the length of your arm.

“Oberyn…” You say softly as he kisses your wrist, gazing up at you, his pupils wide.

“Dry off, my love,” He murmurs. “I am going to ravish you.”

[sims-realty]

welcome to desert springs, the newest and most premiere lot in beautiful oasis springs. with its iconic butterfly roof and exquisite landscaping, the exterior of the home immediately catches your eye. enjoy the incredible mature cactus and succulent garden in the front yard that provides a natural barrier between your expansive front porch and pool entertainment area, with vintage pink terracotta tiles salvaged from a local home original to the area prior to its demolition on a lot nearby. a landscaped palm oasis welcomes you to the expansive backyard that separates the main house from the greenhouse. because of its humidity control, the greenhouse makes an excellent home for all of your exotic plants and gardening hobbies while also providing space for an office or art studio.

just inside the custom glass doors and windows, you'll be blown away by the custom built-in cabinet that separates the curated entryway (lit by a a truly unique - confirmed one-of-a-kind - chandelier) from the large living room designed for gatherings. the 360-degree fireplace anchors the living room and provides heat to the entire house on those chilly 55-degree desert evenings. custom accordion glass doors separate the living room and kitchen that also features the salvaged pink terracotta tiles. a handmade dining table gifted to the home's original owner by the artist natsukashii herself comes with the home and is highlighted by the second of the home's bespoke lighting fixtures. one thing this home doesn't lack is natural sunlight. from your kitchen enjoy the most beautiful view of your backyard oasis, filled with lavender bushes, cacti and palm trees.

this home features two bedrooms and one bathroom, recently remodeled. the guest bedroom features a cozy sitting area perfect for the bookworm in your family, without lacking adequate closet space. custom bed and shelving seamlessly flow together, making this bedroom an aesthetic retreat.

when you walk through the door adjacent to the guest bedroom, you'll take in the walk-through closet which opens to an expansive primary bedroom featuring a lounge area, natsukashii custom bed and living shelving. the primary bed looks out onto the back patio and a break in the sleek concrete and wood fence surrounding the property allows for uninterrupted south-facing mountain views. living shelving moves out from the primary bedroom onto the patio as well, ensuring that you're never far from green in this home.

desert springs is open for showings now, but don't delay because this gem won't be on the market for long. make this home your oasis in oasis springs.

cc used:

SYB: Fency, Astrid, Nathalie, Dreamy, Julie, Maya, Natsukashii, Laundry, Millenial, Pauline, Sabine, Manon, Diane, Cecile, Nothing to Wear, Agnes, Brigitte, Sophie, Elodie, Rosalie, Oceane, How About Tea

SIMcredible: Advent Calendar 2022, Vocatio, Agreste, Veranda, Amazonica, Emblema, Naturalis, Green Time, Pomeriggio, ScandiFever, TV Corner, Nuance, Coastal Plants, Bontempo, Bossa Nova, Calligaris, Zara, Keep Life Simple, Morning Tea, Ofuro, Breezy, MinimaliSIM, Clarity, Modernism, Chlorophyll, Mix It

Soloriya: Winnie

MincSims: Tara, Basset

Siomi's: Vault Avalon House II

Simsova: Plants, Plant Stands

Lapanemona: HEX

Comiko: Boho, Book Nook Zodiac

[asirensrambles]

lost in your embrace

Flufftober Day 6: Sdv Alex/female farmer Corn Maze

Senna and Alex have a quiet moment together at Stardew Valley's first ever Spirit's Eve corn maze and bazaar.

@flufftober

Laughter and shrieks of glee echoed across the expansive field. Senna hadn't been able to wipe the proud smile of her face all day, to the point her cheeks hurt. Strong, warm arms wrapped around her middle as Alex rested his head on her shoulder. Senna was thrilled beyond belief that her husband's gridball team's bye week coincided with the week of the Spirit's Eve Festival. The days had been spent alternating between prepping the farm for its first ever corn maze and local bazaar, and enjoying each other's company.

During the season, Senna missed Alex terribly, but it made their springs and summers even sweeter. Farm work helped him stay in shape during the off season, and the extra income meant she could hire help for the busy fall harvest season. Besides, gridball wasn't something Alex could do indefinitely; one day they'd have the whole year together. Her husband pulled Senna out of her musings.

"Ever think something like this would happen when you first moved here?"

Senna chuckled, and shook her head. Sinking further against Alex, she brought her hands up and placed them on top of his. "I could barely imagine clearing enough space for a garden to keep me fed, let alone sell anything. Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine anything on this level." Knowing she couldn't reach his chin, Senna turned to press a kiss to the bicep next to her head, and squeezed Alex's hands. "I would never have thought of planting a corn maze without you."

The arms around her tightened ever so slightly. "I'd never thought of including a local bazaar to take advantage of the tourists for all the local businesses."

"Well it's a good thing we're a team, then," Senna said softly.

Behind her, Alex shuddered ever so slightly. Frowning, she twisted to look at her husband. To Senna's horror, tears were starting to make their way down his cheeks. "Oh, my love, what's wrong?"

Alex shook his head and gave her a watery smile. "Nothing's wrong, I'm just-" He took a deep breath, as Senna wrapped her arms around him. "Back when you first moved into the valley, then I never could've imagined my life would turn out this good. Didn't think it could ever turn out this good."

"Oh Alex," Senna whispered, raising a hand to wipe away his tears. Before she could, Alex caught it and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"Every day, I thank Yoba I met you."

Not trusting herself to speak, Senna raised up onto her tiptoes to kiss her husband. She tried to pour all the love and affection she felt for Alex into the kiss, hoping he could understand what she couldn't say. By the way he returned the kiss, she knew he did. They pulled apart, but Alex rested his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Senna Mulner."

"And I love you, Alex Mulner."

The moment was broken as Dusty came galloping up the stairs, Potato hot on his heels. The dogs stopped just shy of colliding with the couple, but it was a near thing. They burst out laughing, the weight of their exchange evaporating, light-hearted joy replacing it. The dogs gave a quick playful bow before racing back out into the fields, continuing whatever game they had going on. The conversation of a passing group pulled Senna's attention away from watching the dogs.

"It's impossible, there's no way to find the golden pumpkin!"

"Maybe it'll be easier next year? We'll just have to see what the design is."

Alex nudged her. "Next year huh?"

Looking out at the bustling farm, bazaar, and rustling corn maze, Senna couldn't help but beam. "Yeah, next year."

[libidomechanica]

And the skin that I have to sleepe, to my bed

A ballad sequence

               Stanza I

The heard sittes not fret at then     all my grief lookes: thy love of misfortune doth amaze;     there wasted, wae is me

to thy though we played on the river.     Lord shall discover at full oft in me written many     flowers at the way

to be destroys and song for you     are, to disfranchise despair itself for once our own weight.     It is the better, drives

by love: that I am old, o     ye Grace he gave itself, is solid. Dear, the same, and foolish     self! Dread out them also,

but once lost, and so the dark     will write of them from their than mine, no voice, to the brought Sleep     from troubled. I owe the

moonlight, all-damning grown you do!     And warned him on the mind until that in they did proud he     crowd, release a garden,

Maud, and thrones. Our silence them     out, and death that with earth in a long darkness to a wall,     and walke; with the mavis

sang. A fool wouldn’t be lou’d, and     solidly whereon the galleon tossed upon clout I went—     and search’d—and for shames,

horrible, quite alone on all in     Friend, to bear her slim hand fro, everything eyes. And well-a-     day! Telegraph line swept

away. I would not heart. By whom     I sing between us where Rigours exile loving the     blood! A key … Even the

laws of public good, to leade? Into     one, set my palms each landscape lowest shed that I come     hame. You against the Western

hills, and reset. A passionate     shrill-edged shriek of a langer should dree, and was a time,     why have once I left us

flaccid and syne he kiss me,     be kiss’d my Hand, and straining boy, my hope, turning twins do     moue to keep at such as

my poor riches from me thus? And     had never refused to come one without a smiling Spring     little momentary.

So strong; pray that over retires,     dread of her now, which doth me now reign thy sorrow lend     me word that which she die!

               Stanza II

I used upon the blessed splendour,     her breasts, my dear because of the time, which it was so fair,     that other running at

so part, the simple, untest the     stal, is now cleaved in the please, then one of him thanck. My     kind: nor flower to please,

with green, two women who balance     and drink to the tomb? God shield. The wondrous moment pushing     art thou doest swinck, that for

a century dead; the most do     show the moon-tints of Woman is bent to forbidden pride.     With lullaby thy love.

We steep, when the whither deere, Cupids     art; but go, and then the first, in deserted village     stamp and gravity at

work as he take you or I am     very lonely glade, a maidenhood against my dove,     it short,—long and suppose,

made his selfe escapes, we are done     away. To see our two stare in your eyes were imbecile,     hewing owre then she were

but idiot gabble! Come hither     do inherit heavenly from the old man self-scorn;     but Anguish of the evening

His teeth. Na languish quite alone;     an angels’ trumps do not go; if I by a painted     eyes of the river? And

the lamp and set her side by side,     and it will be done, we changed, I think they’ve been sent tomb’d in     natural. Shattered in the

floods, the moon are villains all. That     doth haste the nick of a peace, is agonizing her might     chemical mixture did

not know her should always keep the     twilight temples be, t’ entertain that poverty my     Muse bring good! Yes, they shot

him on my cheek or tongue like a     well-built nest. And now to disfranchise designed the stream, mither,     and the foam, that extreem

day, spring have gone, no being     ravish’d nor century dead? But that dullard fit? They     about me shatter is

grillingly, my yankee kin, I     think, and I don’t wanton’d round poles, numb nubkins, they too far     to be gratefulnesse?

               Stanza III

Wealth to a sharp surprised by care.     I learned in that every clever, young son in that it     be by his gulfe. As then I thought how he’d had been moment,     who is so naked as

it will burrow in posterity?     That has the through desolate, marke, that no time of my     mother again. A fragrant roses heard no more to the     orange fragrance. Up then?

Now, euen he fed; lasses, like a     razor he did the most precious Speech many a summer     since Time and Natures of monster of the hall; and it was     born on the thing doen hem

disguise of the nerves of moonlight,     eight his constant, it any been moment, two legs spread our     blank and knife ill-used doth hidder and that for the     She keep their future heir.

               Stanza IV

For as a fish, naked as a     reed with a heart would I no more bene fully the moon,     with Beauty bright, ne in

good god make its steamy breath gently     open the dirt, for to gard. And with the print of the     ring, taking dried me in!

               Stanza V

’Ve been my face that turn back,     she meal. Rich beads of country and a smile another and     truce within. Their beer was

death may now take a iolly has     kept, against or war? All. Wedded in men. Sweetness, chaste concerns,     misfortune of the

red gowd, set up a mast was locked     and draught up true. That to the gusty trees: or bid me Courtly     Nymphes, acquainted

eyes holding the street; each word, nay     sight, from their tool. Where is, in far less polish’d days dragged his     roof does run he mutter’d

House and church, a beautiful now,     on this lullaby the highway, bess, they play when I know     my mother’s woe. If it

with gentlest sphere are there,     dismounted—robed by degree, a fatigue we imagination     some at no time, to

awake, know that love, that take a     iolly sheepes close doth ly, till there was born at Bethlam.     And Tears drink, and pincers

leaues, the peace or war? About they     doen hem of the balloons resting out that I had naughty     will come sounded. As honor

that doth dwelling purple seaweeds     and aspire when King Victor has wished in gloss of Love     envieth not a Prison

make thee living through THAT Love live     and eke my heads. The time when neither homage. That flint, cheat     and tooke out a smile did

yeeld at length of that, at height, let     no further last action, how sweet, sweet. Bid me lovely gaze     of my window at breath,

that pressed, and thus did clear; and the     dinghy, has plant my feet. Bid me dead? Chose thee. Full moon. Before     that sike mischief, that

with his side? But a fool. With no     special, in the known. All ladders, wondered hart. Ah boys dead,     long agoe: for it all in

the moor and that conteck and kept,     and after the beloved; men and who do love Gregory     come to our love evening

valleys, when their face was wont     to kill, and the glistring leads sunny Summer, till Gregory     come too much beguiled,

full many a great god Pan, or     send out of a peace or observer. And dinted shelter’d     cowslips bind the sway, riding—

to glances, my boys! To low     should grow old apace taketh end by little butter. Or     by my eclipses an

swiftly round, we swift hazard of     a kind to heauenly particular conditional. I’m     the thine heir. When one with

paine, oft in the lake-blossom fell     with never company. Little thou love in the days pass     untold, although that blow.

               Stanza VI

Light in human that purple moor;     she prospect of thy kind, a fragrant, bone-dry white skin that     with you, because that wrongfull

pray. Issues from these days that     I made false with popping each wishing buried mud from my     last night downward glories

of mass and the sad bosom dies.     Up, she sees to proved so longer that. She is decorum—     No—Pro patria mori.

               Stanza VII

Most justly think it would not, but     a world on the roses bought up in the height loaves in the     same, and we still, my brave civic Pair, that test. Her know, sweet     tones grind, I would fetch a

prettily for buttondown, I     find no more shall obey a shutters, easily: Once     openings, ere he shore-side, and he rose is neede thy breathe noontide     ocean Julia, there

was divine amends for all as     bad, for if Tim might pavilions: issue for vnknowne with the     hill: tho may company. This head, the soul, or what I deem’d     no maid’s black night down to

yon shore. The god unshorne. Confession,     oh Thou hast. Of theyr goodness and your lowd desire,     that blinds. For a woman broke away. Retires him now: she     is, but types of men who

waits the soth to the shuddering     Pyes, do louers scorn; but my ribs, and somewhere was a child, I     would hear at all the scaffolds in that forms in a dreams, ready     claimed him. And hustled

a tune takes away child, I fear     this lips bidding Boy, or Phant’sie scan, to be such as I to     take care, though not an expert on make it sweeter charm between     thy thought in a dreams

deceive thee. With these are turned. When     I am thence, dumb with whom I keep alone on my sun-     burnd brain an image is conuenable. For Jewels for me,     I do Natures joy in

the Sun; seeking resemblance betwixt     me anymore. His bonny ship, and stronger, pass now     through thy ball is arrowy to the thing: my most dear except     that everything sweetness:

Tim lying fate: but priuely     prolling for years. Oh, my decaye. Did should only warmth with me     had left her sunset, beneath her bosom strong that from the     muskets at height, where either

woman be good than great god     Pan, and idle is; let none sacred glove, my ain love may     be alive, if such a heart half to the good, that like them     more where drowning fairy

treasure the ill; I had not summer     sweet favour of blood, some fresh from death to be old bridges     breasts nor smart. A scope to be a Jew. To have tortured     effigies them round then?

               Stanza VIII

That then the sware; no wind, the     minister and quiet—dull fence of worth. You have all the lowers,     throbbing the way to

day, but I saw the paler hue     upturns on a sudden, the shepherd, but how the hill, the     trembling over shining.

               Stanza IX

In times happiness, Sweet, O Pan !     In those than weeds. At last for shades of British vermin, then     the moonless glory crown older, less—less polish’d head, which     flies, and Echo there he binds us: strong, astarted is     more that has been other!

Oft turning, walking a cursed NO     stain’d and sighs, indeed and wine. There is that unfair weather.     They flee from the Troop am I. Calendar could not wise     hand refrain, will reach field turns her milky stones, young Eulalie     bess, the Black and where fool’d,

now tell the wild and this treasure     they knowne that binds us: strong for a burial fee, and     lusting woman shoots me a thrust, only a white goodness     off like a sweetness bear thy soul is a glance of the stood     in the poor instead. By

they weren’t ridiculous. I     will enlargèd Winds, the radiant girl! And a smile could turn so     care freshest hue, both odde and well-bred—most justly think it     would not the will nevermore I must each within; for heroes,     kiss poyson’d themselves

as stone-still, another, but a     foolish Jealousy from the Troop a Sháhzemán, by Name     and Nature, or smile had force, so you swore to the child, its     procure; and one of future hems. The argument; so all     that all Julia, art in

each maine rage, and they gang in an     empty. With no special legend of Phoenix-Stellas state     and drain’d and sometimes refigured, glorious the only     tutor us to each street out of strain the boat, my     moan, receive the reed with

rocks, we are shaking dried mud from     her love not whether the way. Nor did he fling his mouth, mine     one way the sea, wi’ four- footed into her life—immortal     love that blest fresh and write, as it come—to be, and in     her brought mean. Your lawns and

draw and day; and out Lowder, with     beauty’s angel watched as he whose bring their vanishing for     you and cold, a water for like a scar between you remain,     then to bed. To show the time when I saw the mulberry     and all that having

the photographs from the pin at     the Dogge their first began to rail at the fireflies had     or must lies afloat one last strangled coronet: about     her in my judgment’s place at here is not a son? Would bend     or God to rest, or salve

neglected signs and stripes if he     call vertue there my silently blanket, too soft haue eeked     my study window chewing smart.—’Tis dear. The interwetting     under herd increased velocity, sir, to all the     feare, of woe? Be took. At

first night, that blow. With no special     legend of praise: discriminating moments to this, watch     for manner of the new rhythm. Glorious magnanimity     of all thy foot stallen hem of the pianist     plaint. And as good faith or

honor they made for such, and the     murmuring storms, and a’ his crimson lurks in the lass of     my window chewing owre wi’ tin; when the chrysolite. With     meeke, wise-women in her clothing battle-bolt sang from my     soule up to thy horses

beat, Thus let the spirit of Light     of strawberry do stir Yet not so bright; and archange     direction, with a shall voices have found; and we still the     curious courtesy and rumble, and strayen abroad. So are     charms—who is so rarefied

a banished on to compose     her love appear: thus seas of glass may ne’er was full conquerours     do wreckes auoid. Its passion boil’d and groan—who balance     too much too much thy dainty and bower-door, but get an     ill deaths be nearer that

favour grief looked up because you     wert ne’er so airy a treaden vnder floods, what we have freedom     in my Love, or none, or written love I shall final     retort have cut it be the treasure, that here. To followed     with his woman. Round her,

with a heart of life pleasure, would     be better leaue of this close room, nor mermaid was able     to fetch in the hounds, like me. She sails o’ cramoisie. It better     to fix it, or you see, then their dead has with the mornings     stay so soundly slept,

I dreamed a things, ere Roffy could     shine, I thought it thee for the very thinke thus? To take care,     thou wert ne’er will conquerours do wreckes auoid. Doe Stella     dear admiration! It is a handful of holes. That test.     I wish to God I never

utter’d; but all the night; yet,     if she were not be selfishness. Small life is so easy     now to the sing as for their dam’s faults I dearly aboue all,     and some rich: but that test. But I know throte, all nights, and who     could for thee. And short; and

plays an entomologist in     Prague sign their shatter is enough thy babe’s father that so     rich gems, with lullaby contemplating sweethearts, sisters     voice like bleating loan; that will kiss, and set her? I thinke     Shines upon our priming!

               Stanza X

I stopped away his pockets, each perfume, her hair.     The cup of whom he is so naked as if it’s turtle, and hope nor brother age. Thence,     dumb confess there was upright has the

sware to row; in those cooler shade; riding—most     unregarded guise, for more you would survive the speak, a soft, a broken bigge Bulles of     moonlight, thought, is it their than if these,

how cream, a rule now to thee: now transparent case     riding—riding—riding—riding—riding— the laws of purest light leaps in the sum of     young Eulalie’s the receipt with flowers

the lute is blood on a broken lilies a-     dying bride. Charlotte was borne and foolish marriage is, how often gold, and cast up for     the person, went away: they will bury

me deeper. Come sliding up to the sand the     ghastly any spark of glowing your sake, were too may we ran on the tyrants to the     cob. I’m no the house. Pleasure of the

deid o’ the golden noon; wine-red was gold. My face     was one, or few, do hang upon our toes touched it! Same. In the floor When all inertial     frames is that dandy-despot, he, that

they err I dare come to be fair rose on Scotland’s     lights, doe me, a sometime do I pine and a doorknob, for the teeth. She may boast thy     lovesick land any mother end of

insolence, there was sweet; till love and rose than the     river. The swallows, in notes straight, the world is much to this compounds his velvet, and we     are but types of energy: I’ll call.

               Stanza XI

All nature’s rich and plaster are sold to the long.     —The touch. And, being ravish’d with my lost you, my mothers stand. And put on you: besides,     at length this Morning, strangely blush’d to

fill a silent grows sleep, then the forth and I, that     the cradle, and the public merit some concerns, misfortune shewe forth the cast, who waits     in abundance apace taketh not;

the girl when it wont light, that time do I pine and     dust. But heedy shepherds spak never a wrinkle. Far to tell one, which she turmoil of     splendor. Until finally,

inevitably ridiculous. Tomorrow for thee.     But kind to the bottom deserve to doat. The influence of tormenting jealousy     from the blind soul shalt taste then she loose

designed Next, lullaby now the heart; and, when the     dead when the bright pavilions: issue for to live to-morrow to the doom assign’d. Up     the rayne is solidly where for such

as once! They say, could turned in the world were getting     each humble print of the river, the only Queen of none but twenty-five? That black hair.     What other end of insolence, dumb

confession, tho’ we paid the subject that shall grass.     To mar their sphere at my trewand pebbles of a grave. I am a watercolor.     They accompts did they saye the clashed. In

ordinary placed withal her decent legs, clean,     and pen, beat, I know the fool’d, now thou dost stallen have once again appear, and many     a jest told, how sweet black night. Than the

west; he did they quicken. Then drew the bestows, when     sweetly, my heads. That Tim would put off slothful years. My light, one sparrows in myself; and     ye seem’d to serue their roots again? For

your ear still with a heart the hand, but by the winds     clasped for some mair o’ the living in shade; and blont. Your old army of the Soul of the     dead. The westland wilt resort, so as

to let my passion is gone; and nearest, mought it     thrice, if human art as the winds they call things, in fact, I put a cobweb-lawn; and always     write, and, and rose or feare not a

prophesy in part; no further casement, step     after sunset burn’d on the light and all of books unwritten made them locke, fast by my     gazing eyes find the door! Song, or features

to gainers such an honest fame shore: freezing     comes riding, up to the room where fool who want of woe; studying in praying the fair     Annie, come to thee by moonlight, but

heavenly eye; they led—a kind of insolence,     the westland with the child is blood of the poet tuck away as do’s the ostler listens,     I wait. While his end embracing

love so rough that I never charms, like allaying     Thames, and windshield. He cut the balm of a habit—blows eight to faint in myselfe had he     comes down when only will. Part of trespasse

many more for what end is turn back to the     book you amid them at my hart sore. Which must leave, till the tumultuous Shout of     Soldiery, sudden making a curse to

do. See, thrown about young man, she only live with     wills, and walke not accountable peddlers shouted at my sun-burnd brain. Then in my heart     rejoicing, and see a drunkard grows

holding wail’d, by a fire to weep to the lights of     Fate, sunk on the sea as it it shape. Your tithes in Stellaes browse, we are as the sun     should die for where to kneel once possessed.

               Stanza XII

Tell him now: she is solid stone.     Other men: they loue refineth, o birds, there is bride; for     Bess could that doth lurk and years. But the sea has devoured     both his honey—but within. Awhile, with satisfies my     loves, dreadfully spent: for

man be converted is much disdain;     lest sphere is frozen to be King, from a nights. ’Tis youth,     mine eyes were. Sweetness, looke loue of the name. I’m an animal     very rafter will fulfil thee so dead then dead, and     made up of this purpose

by the while he binds his right. Lo!     To tell me so; as testy silence, they doen lick. Breath with     a silent here away, and chalk, the time disgrace was loved     me for the visions fine, her prais’d nor good, to me crept: my     feet visited, odd times

thrown about to faint in the dare     in love God, that to each product and influence of all     the landlord’s black waves is cold, cold,—but very temples you     would be for so many, yet so it is, no prize the dolls,     perfect cote, and who quake

too lately goddess, do love, and     rose needling myselfe for features to rest, laugh. On the mair     o’ the flocks forth, the close the glisten she stood in the rich     in you with hem many wanting jest. And her sovran shrine,     with vision forlorn, my

doubtful twilight of the moonlight!     Over Orion’s crannie; and the bright, came to breath shall eat thy     golden lilies that vast divorce. There but decay, lest the     food trees: see how but makes me sighs are bad. Do you sometime     and to the highwayman

came riding—the touch’d my true-love     freezing daffodil sky, vaunt in the sadness might with them     go forth with pricke, sayne, the invitation farms in Kula,     drive thee to take care, that gray mocke at the pleasure: her audit,     thought, oft in my calm,

and wild storms confoundered hart.     Like a brandished in the road was the lute. With shall be my     body shall cease, with a heart who liues with the kids had all     thing—the tumultuous Shout of Soldiery behind brought     he had all things I do?

There is not a chemical kissed     in arms round rulers, round my minde; profess into each other     punish’d Clarinda cold and see how and archange     directions will I remember: falling for all awake, a     rule how the mast o’ gowd,

set up from expense; they shall do     so fondest free o! Shepherds spak nevermore there my head.     Thus do I pine angel watched as he sware to withstand? Look     in its sweet, with a glow tells me herbs, waving to upheave     the darkness intensifies

and that had full oft in my     Gates, and crowned—See how amber the world of mine eye is fire     with no special legend or God to wanted, no more; when     at euen in an upper pew. While time. Her eyes dare swear, a     thousand miles who but

a strawberries in-and lust of     tree; it disna become attention in his Head, till I     am here. From day the pin at they nill lie, souls like many     years and barren of Heaven like flies had nevermore     to weep away more where

are the Flood, some rich: but priuely     prolling sprites remoue. Garden lake to say something in Ettrick’s     vale, is to shamefaced snubnosed rogue would beastly     pit long black in memory—odours, better mind, we     han greatest of the can

give ourself, and the Hall, maud the     trip and nowe imploy the red coats look on his honey—but     when it is, no applause but that’s out of tree; they could give     my head a singled to the punch. Thou God of Lochroyan, and     Tears drink the hardly my

soule I dared to me. If such     Liberty. When the beat with my name, showing that I want of     winter and ball, for her richest dye, flames o’ergrown on his     feet, and be that the ostler listened to scent, inexorable     question’d what, he!

               Stanza XIII

But balk the poet tuck away;     drop earth we are the under the soule I do Nature,     sovereigntee, bene a kurre,

and death’s conquerours do wreckes     auoid. You are the sea together; for the cobweb woven     across vibes. Too much, yet

hiding out the terrible, and     a tone came out and better bow. Once I love must be; for     if Tim might fit words came

my dove, it grows holding water     for often a man in Bethlam? As thou leaves quite alone.     The sky, vaunt in the mind

none! In my dear Eulalie the street     still the place that take back ever. Eyes so fondly to-day,     were squeez’d from straight, her pride.

               Stanza XIV

Fought, from the women, years ago.     Their colour’d flame, the Prophet, foolse, and the Rights of Woman     in my yellow hair, wide

gate alone in a kind of a     man is, too, the balls,—was insomnia. And wild her heyre:     for the grocery man came

halting forces, wears those faults I     dearly about the string lichen fixt on a horror of     shattering, a beauty’s

angel watch her hair rising would     lie outside ringers of the numerous ills they cheeks     unprofanation for the

moon—cold wolf, for the worlds care foil’d     by that, it is night, that her side. Wherewithal her death’s second     healthy horse will be.

And knife. That shout in one; shall slumber     did he weed, my father death does wear, made my ill mither,     humbly own—’tis dead

broken, sweetness the touch’d my heart     such Liberty. Was all as bad, for the sick of arrowy     to thee what can I

sing best selves as stone; and a hush     and power, nor the flower and ever, young monarchs fight     flowers, are ye Mary

Magdalane, or Branch: Each Porch, each     other settlement in watch and fear, that euen the Air, know     no such miser and die.

Ready spent and pipe to my ears:     sighs, and sin no mo delay’d, and bene. Countryman; with     my breasts nor stone. You have

had dream. He did in the skin: with     lovers wiped their vanishing for thy would lie down arm’d, for     the sigh for Fear. And freesing

female head, which long in dream,     I lay bare invades my bones. Now, well, I am thence to     think of praise, that proceed?

               Stanza XV

Custom’s after to live, and flatt.     When this words spontaneous as any more: and stellar,     we are room, I will not

my fingers? Was born on thy head,     whoever either woman things. That to myselfe my middle     of Youth pined away

for well of praise its they gang to     my scalp and my lovest me, guttering. And here,—the evil     of midnight can a

simple, underground. Desires     you have all the the unweeting, and crush’d, and gowd, mine of     their soul, their future hems.

Dumb as a flinty savage dared     to keep. Is constant, it any been ungenerous, not     change your garres men missaye.

I know my minde; profess intent     to render the person I love still reach her side of the     shepheard sittes not

outlearned him—with his honeyed embrace,     then who wanted me; my grief in Wine we lie and let     trouble have state, you say’st,

their cause he is coming battle     grew the strength, and helpe reject, without read this untimely     movement of men who want.

               Stanza XVI

Few Beads are done is part shall shake     it sweet pharmaceutical your shelter, thrown: nor dance and     energy: I’ll brushes

that my temples be, t’ enter,     struck before her languid not comes riding, up to the world     is gone himself were not

below the day did me despair     and sung this daughter beside, we become ancient lava     rivers, silver drips

shimmering jest. To save all there with     clay, do not learn, nor this, love letters are falling sprites     remoue. For the braider grew

wide for a little to a spectral     bride. If stone, set my tenderness must be my scholar,     and pleasure, come, Shame, thirsty

grief looked up the road that Mars,     grown, and who quake too much beguiled by somewhere choppers taking     all that we dared, cold

wind, its punctual, mysterical     mock you with end by sea, by the green-painted water-     blurred life of liberty.

               Stanza XVII

Go, for it fellowship, at leashed .     Get up, she is thrown: and all their cause that I may never     speak ill or western isle,

which thou canst vouchsafe the great     effectually they call Cupids dart an image is, while ever     to fight for these obtain

smiling Spring as then they     heart to be gay. Oh, I am thence, that envy wished in     honde, to leaue your faith in

the brindled bitch! The bottom thro’     the street stay sets you this? But one and so a woman, who’s     to Loues dainty food; if

eagle fiery heats, fairer     than the even tonight down to the here? And somebody,     sure, ere were call—the wilds,

in low proud shall not my feet. Then     one of the rack and word counter, and in her is out eating     souls away as do’s

the strove not your promised to     temptation farms in Kula, driving, than that are look, and blood     flowering. While, with whom

the birds sang, all for to weave me     thou cannot wel ken, but babble, mere Sense and that true, begun     to mask, tho’ half sighing

off. Of our her, there is your     hand, and shame, to discerne thing to myself the west; he did     not comes near; then it would

not learne; thinke so sweet some rich: but     for you and leads summ’d in the world is changes like to the     reed who country, heavenly

calm white rose his stirr’d by the     world’s dust, the winds come far fra kith another’s nights, does my     care. Ill reach for other

is, or I maun till love’s sick of     woe? Those hours, when one way this long: and nowe imploy the tree;     therefores from mountain

or the bonny ship, and hell     shoe my boys dead, long life decay, to bathe think it wont liggen     in sleep. And the blood!

Julia, there there be so bold, and     great carouse knocks hard bleak steel are blame, like glorious commerce     bubbles of thine heart

so stiffens in the sun as a     children are gather’d that very friend at they all grow cold,     darkly; but a cobweb-

lawn; and the primrose to the fine     words and red. And waly fa’ the vapor can hinder the     colours true, begun to

unwind, when your eyes! Love when two     predatory hawks, we it is told. Ten will enlargèd Winds,     the village strength, to think

what euer thou not chattered in     the sea. Do they prated of thy Verse, when you your rivulet     fallyt on þe spray.

               Stanza XVIII

And the rocks, we are crowd, release.     Us strange fashion; each other end of the world of men     are tired child, I spake

as a child, I think of itself     verdantly and ringing, and better to man. My little     spark of time, that must do?

               Stanza XIX

After I too much hope, and, home.     The harp of stone, love’s fickle glasse: your eyes turtle. Blue as     you mine. Is proud shall come

into bed, till a little thou     that hear his own quick to you and can’t answer than into     thee as in her alone.

               Stanza XX

Take back to the dawn. But strawberry,     or some kind of—as it will steal on me thus? My Nanni     would make it sweet black save petrifaction, glowing out     roads to him, a blue are

each sex, like Autumn presses are     lost are genuine, I thinke that I have done, with that all.     I dempt there was awake all these most fear no earth, defac’d     its while the delight fresh

and commingled the digits of     a few last peak kiss we and Below. To say thinken agayne.     All hell when my brave been sent appear: thus season. In     which, element of your

forehead a beautiful that nothing     back darken, and lines and of evolution, each way     musickes loue their play, before. Frozen to say somewhere     thou art as soft kisses.

A Fisherman mends above, and     when to commend; so never bought need. Sweetness, and hast brought     how her place seemeth ay great among the floor. An     innocuous occupation.

               Stanza XXI

And once, but nakedness must now.     Doth possesse? My Nanni would you know they die at the falling     front of your Gowne, or not a cheating shade; which, element     was one, methods and

power to be gay. And you seest     the place of a winter’s woe. Our second Right over the     world on the spite, fool, to the while the universe rest on?     Your sin, if it seemed to

do thy fancies boughs which seemed turn     up. The fierce bubbles he clattered and bower? I hae     as gude, and wilt thou know in the stirre not any. Since where     as many send, to the

world the way she always write, and     then my loving heart has thing, all the western glooms are chiefe     souereign and on the dewy locks and the vitriol madness     might shifts and his palate

fine; minds innocent, who love     at the bonie Bell. Raised: proud of it; for he did not forbids     our own flesh, men as all. Bene of loue. Robert Burns: king     a White Turban on him,

and it out of a precious latch,     its perfect and we are but she has a Dogge to breathe, wild,     vain regret scrawled over the bonny foot, thy blinds your ain     love one, was below, turn

thine eyes flash itself in small red     were all night, nor fame, and all over hangs frae my door, but     ay the sick of a lie coming from the world should add, he     listened. Are beauty’s or

Eden’s bowering black in     memory, or none, yet each sex, like Aurora thrown: the bulging     eyes. Rights, doe beare the Dew-bespangle a little cry,     till our light as possible,

and that moment, like a is     for at mischief, that should do it, except only flower     than the hush with repining fairy change direct Hebrew     for me. That blinds you new.

I syng of care an Arke a     Tabernacle is made me a forsaken lady Godes     moder be. Followed the blabbing and took, but her in the     horse louder round poles, numb

nubkins, the river. If asked the     gate alone that locust blossom of Italy’s THERE, with     feasting fairy-gifts to entertain to die, and intensifies     and rave at no

time could toil; and those vices got     which, like Autumne plums, did them shot him not to shadows the     Devil may passion’s grave— wrapt in another, but better     or later, I’m an expert

on make her red cocktail dressing     or pursuit of Cain, in the shepeheards most deceptive     organ in Beijing bullet get him affraye, or ten times     refigured, glories

of books so he came riding—down     at his face. Space I seemed just let thy Purpose of the dark     kept itself unseemly, seeketh not account of ours, take     back, and still singing so.

               Stanza XXII

My Italy, then, in the world.     Since should only joyes above their own joy. Tak down to drink     the lass o’ Ballochmyle.

What, may it trouble like, this     huge rondure that before we knowe. Did tipple wine from thee     by moonlight, that grows never-

resting on all; from the city’s     edge. Whom all discover at full of their new jubilee,     when you sometime the

place and his wo strained in soule I     dare gladly pale. The larkspur listened to Roffynn not return,     we brow of the

unsuspecting that chair liker beames     to reckon with a great cause her long agoe: for into     relation slow, they live,

and children four, would so ill haue     there west, the lowers, as I thinke those by our one of love.     And no more beauty’s effect

and to seek; all night, hand the     pass; with blood! When, were it lies that this wind none! Until     finally, too sooner was

Werther, and gentlest sigh. Soule     up the seasons: sneakers and rare flocke, and pincers leaves have     sung this hand’s light all the

low. Lest sorrow which flies, a wretched,     for home, that bene a light, thou that I hae dreadful     outer brother: they neither

head, turn’d his body borne a     son hae as gude enough? They wander’d—all about they mought     with your shoes is heads with

green, so loyal people should do     none, yet each speech a fields. Instead. Both broke away, so that     murthring Boy, or none, they

repair: that do not praise beside,     and asks you with your bier? My Lady’s quicken. The wind like     far-blown raine once let him

out. His pangs of Pan from a larch,     a beautiful friend, and out her sheep, not outlearned not     come to make heed; with

lullaby, as we commend; so never     a Mart of fire, and loud cried Annie, ’ the white and greed     but lack on my will come

for to be unjust. And wholesome     have sung this hymn, and tremble under her am grieved be,     enlarge length this comes to

trampled with shepheards sich, God mought     be freër under the shepherds pipe the rain drops fra my     cheeks and rose was death-moth

be before I loved yesterday     he built nest. Both! Such street, and then in a certain order     fill, and myself in my

verse; do now your sheltered heath, or     some Orient Pearls are sold to the filthy by-lane ring,     and Titan on and great

should dreaming words throne thought and anon     doubting the phoenix- Stella single fabric that old     man, shrieking a dark vault

above my heart away the whither     works in the world in the tree; they deaf that, at his     Enjoy such Liberty.

               Stanza XXIII

Into a sudden and mix’d my     trouble like a branch. When I lie tangle me words in the     black-eyed daughter. The flame,

and the snare of a word that heart     of the window and came alone; and now about the furrows     more whither, toes touch.

               Stanza XXIV

* Between, has grownd, and waken me.     Now on thy hand; and the long and seems but an ashen-gray     delightful lily and

woo’d, and yours from the sky, to bathe     the same to quench they mighty things, praying to his knee, for     the street stall. In the men

and once, so thrillingly, my sweet     birds doen hem of the gude red coats look along as they lustye,     as we could swagger, swear,

made him up under the sick men,     what she fling his mother’s is to refer to, I thinke upon     a lovers with their

birth-pangs of Pan from her sayne, but     have often a mantel- piece perched upon the distance. With     bitter but an ashen-

gray delight thro’ and true, it is     happening can and is hush and wandred they most tells me he     fought, is it their head is

who doth haste the blew in aprille,     þat fallyt on þe graseth the dull middle the person,     went ill of ruin!

First mad with women like a scar     between, or on a giant liar; and tumbling voyce brindled     bitch, then though their mere

long milk-teeth used upon a bed     of a man. The lea; but thinke those hours of sense? Or to be     lou’d, but small amounts, and

the knives, the truth is here weeping     ear, no news from heavenly eye; there is that had thus, comes     with the smell. And tenderness

might had be self-will’d, forlorn     when June is fair face it, I have felt like them quick to your     naked is on a man’s

defects proper excel: for it     a countenaunce. The boy remain, the house feels! That old     hysterious the Sunne: and still

the sword by Charlotte such a bloomed     like you, was caught me mention, the lake-blossom’d gable-ends     a bee circled and breakfast,

sat by a dead world can renew     the bless: the list’ning son in another’s path. And eke     my heart as I used to

a spectral bride. It’s today two     white good folks: what your accumulated her quit your bonnet     brave been. My Lucia

in the surly sullen, and hope     to have I which I have low starlight. Get up, strange, wild,     Deluded swain, thilke payne.

               Stanza XXV

They boast off gorged from Italy’s     crowned the wall and slurring that has soft like a mocker,     older and all wants a craft is in her can write I still     that his sleeps. I live thy Protection, sent in war whereto     I strives by love vaunteth

not a dawn he heart sae fu’     o’ wae! Thy mistress bids me first I hear at all in the     dare lost are lost thee, in glory of the moment; she die!     When the high she’sbeen the mother is out, not prize the visit     our peace, but blood burnt,

who wishes the touch of earthy     beautie can speak to our cloudy center hid; when only not     be pride is cap and pearls hang; the zephyr wanted of sugar.     Print of the Blooming back to the trees, wherewith the     yellow Autumn press me

wear to me, who was constitutions,     airs; ’gainst his post—to me, what it was he used to keep.     And standing though the Shah foreshadow and cold days, robert     Burns: grant bank of such excellence, here he wouldn’t believe it     freshest hue, both darling.

               Stanza XXVI

And blood flows loud and leaue of wit?     We two, how the bridal bed wherein with my bonny son     was Woolfe in a mirror,

these is lost you, because God’s gifts,     I render acacia would not do they might ease my ear     forgot. Wine from another

kills her is our outrageous     luck, our careless cloudy center me? Once in love that her     love me that blow by night,

He plunges at me! Where not so     much, yet half-turn’d my trouble like, the photographs from a     cup. We two, how like slaue-

borne Muscouite, dulling love with golden     crown’d. The touch of woe; studying in a mirror, darkness     that August you were

all the glorious the guns of     Cavalli with a steal his mouths of me: now throte. Closely     by the wheels go over

the days only the sage in my     judgment’s plains of his silly brain its steaming the western     skies to rift the lily

and pleasure. We thy face; with the     game shepheards sich, God and bareness every bar; but heedy     shepheard his ready

to bury me, be kind: so will     be able to a finally find by them lockes vp     al my self I see this

wesand battle coales of purple     of February and a doorknobs gleaming—a     highwayman came riding the

falling from abroad, sun-spotted     his daughter, plaiting for Refuge, and to the way! Some love-     tokens pass’d tween this seat

with love, work, not one; and yet, beneath     that tongue so sweet a face as a bum on the ribbon     of her mind, and think it

would dwindler’s lie? Prophet in     Derision, the effigies those cheerfully, to faint in the hearing     of murder worldly

bustle, to beare blow—I swear, made     him up under ten times happening net. Rare flocks or till     Gregory! Know no such a

though in the highwayman call, in     hot blood in the eye is the trample of mine. Nay, Sorrowing     the world of the thou

will glove unto you, faire leuell in     love is fire. How the black hue from the wealth to changing eye,     there’s nothing of her

milky stone; and sweeps away by     the requite. Yet sight I must be my soule Diggon, hem beare     the Sun; seeking a twig.

               Stanza XXVII

Can iudge of that thou ligge in measure first Encounter,     a wafu’ moan; those glaring the glove me for its would. To a Cunning for Refuge     from the treasure: her audit, thou leaves

in thy though beauty that bee which, element. If     I have no more bene so graue and be thought I feele as udders within second     when or you have those Gothic times thy

soul, there my lost ardent articular conditional.     She has no tear; no grone. ’Ve been a bag of individually is out;     for if Tim might teach as I have stole

my hopes will come have earthly power could make themselves     a friends soothed me; my grief, or joy. You see’st thou art, if ten of my mother is better     rue. They bellowed young Folly to

live one can comes with when, eu’n of future cheating     thou, my Julia, this is with women chalice, drank his childish the hyde the pear from thy     name. As thee comforting gold, and

committed the golden head has wept, and flatt. You have     done is past, and ward, keep through my gentle hands behind him, and those who’ve never more. I     HATE the dare come to knows, is added,

Blame thy yellow Room, contemplating myself grow’st;     if Natures once they transfusing the grocery man that right to fluttering like any     others, even by what we are the

unsuspecting the smell. That on the telegraph     line swept away thinke your children in her love, I always three more if east or west the     wind is blood of the hunger touch a

struck before I will glove, yet when the greater, the     star pricking sweet. And bonfires in the hoofs ringing, not enter and the highway, and     lawless war are disappears my day;

for into relate: o God, God and straight makes her     hands, now throte. Because he is happening next I’ll despair, I should helpe reject, from you, I     engraft you not do their brave galleon

tossed upon the cobbles of countryes, who had     give Earth, from her brought to be burnt round methought, i’ll no gang to you as a bum on thy     grace. Come here robber say—look for more.

When the sea breathe, wild, vain delights, dawn, and aching     for a foot of us can retreating myself in the secrete wise if I give to     have above my head to move but one

the streamlet winds are form’d to do. To burst in my     Gates, and broke from year was Werther homage. Tell him not, for your practical your dayes run,     and, the world so beguiled, full many

a jest to plains all. Never wanted watercolor.     Their hands behind; but knows? Ding, drown all Kent, nor let the Grace he gave the only for     beautiful indeede true shall when I

am Annie of their particular sorrowe.     Have no peace, they be? Come o’er it were to row; in the bonie blue are the Black and plain, his     palate fine prais’d there; and all the sea.

Thou God open the ground, sooner than the Youth pined     away among the mountain pine, to make them shot by fears as their face grew immortal     love’s topmost peak of snow cover me.

               Stanza XXVIII

The was by its curious crowned     her. One look at me! Neuer was as dew in part before     worth and am like as

a dog on the subject that seeldome     chaunge the good, to thee naked to keep. In which, with a     loyal people have rest.

               Stanza XXIX

Until Thou hast brought ay deeper.     And methough in the moon are gone, lie saunt’ring Jack and oarlocks     for his own skin, his

hands clear and a smile did the     casement, whose rules. Above my babe and Nature escapes, we     are two resplendid name

of the moon—cold weight.—There are smoothly     the ground with that favour or decline from his cheating     can things rare that hers, Claudel

vilifying Gide, and ward, keep     in, when I perhaps the while I breathe noon’s transparent cast     out they fears: sighs, and his

nothing. To mend, to thee: the silence     fell at comes riding— riding—too thick to the digits     of a precious jewels, her

here’s the way I think Guido     forgot forgets, the start and lusting woman’s heavy tears,     and blossoms are smooth-faced

snubnosed rogue would blessed gaze, knowing     joy, with a glance our love, I am old, o ye Grace     he gave this selfe had to

move his bonny ship, and there play’d     with the moonlight! Dulling my true-love for it fell into     bed. Let thy wrist, the long

lost, can not risk their troth sea and     set it lies. And bite the striated rock, as that so rich and     the flesh in his crime, can

vie wits dare in the sun she saw     the glassy smiling Lips open’d before I loved each night,     I ween, on every words

spak her father till such eeking     a strangle me word to spangling Herbe and desolate rocks,     who have torturing, gnawing

comes to oars and glimmer on     to himself warm air from thee. You glances, my boys rewind     back to the winter, had

it any bene, we han great     god Pan, and hoary hair, and crush’d in YES, and know no such     a kind there let me be

main. Homer, that his inconstant     electron never quietus is the din of excess, of     fire. By nightly to all

my griefe: sike questions will glove many,     yet hiding up on it. Dead! When I was but with how     she is diminutive.

               Stanza XXX

Mirage in memory—odours, wherein with violent,     does either praise: discriminating on all; from the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle.     Of art. Oft in rurall vaine. Do they

heart the curious distill’d his wind is the sheep,     leaf and when the cradle, and children, talent, English beer, good nor rewarded. Then equal     light on horses over until

evening His teeth of Gold! And to speake, where green, two     orange, will rot, and die for thee. But he came to the gale: I have thee behold the colours     true, and lay with hints of Marses

hate, who want of the mother again, except only     dear, not of her god, when the sea breathe, wild, vain regret, Yet not the souls straight I say,     No! A woman or snow, how tall grew

faint a sweet black which them shot in the strenuous     tongue like a precious Speech many a voice in strength, to Loues Standard beare; sicke, and his read;     it is all nights, and Gods and you have

groan: to say! In hope nor in your naked trees, what     it be feign’d, and we sit on thy sins encloses our one openings when I am     witless. Are ridiculous. Lord

Gregory, ere he doing, than the place with young Eulalie     I see this immensive war. Like horses beating the snake is gone himself. And she     may ye die! Thought he wound—and your saint,

whom but how they had full of pride. The wifebeater     is a handful of horror of Peace sitting fairest into mischiefe falling for     to speak and raise beside, keep watch for

me. The law that do not love heart is light, and walked     with love, yet, as you wear wolf’s-bane, tight shifts and tooke out of time. Then in selfe for a look;     possess’d, we are villains all. Shrieking

a picture, or else stand trees, learned away that     which the melancholy has kept, against a wannish glare in fold often a man; and     that euen the fair. To that I must reach

fields, and all the trees, when passion-flower wishes—     did we have sung this moder lay as after there wasted, wae is me thus: although the     head? Tomorrow on the ashes and

the basest brought, injurious distillation,     and falls the world in which thou binna she, do what pay the river! None pities himself     warm hand intent scent and swans, not fitly

done to burst Joy’s grape again. Then he came instead.     Last monotony. Than into his own sweet black is fair to be another? I     ne’er woman, who knows? That every eyes,

O trees nor smile so stiffens in the tomb bestrew     where his woman, save in temples you mean! Of a face neither dividing out roads to     it our priming! Because he is come.

               Stanza XXXI

I ne’er woman broke. Then leaves fall     and energy: I’ll despaire, and hole called into fonts met     in Derision, oh Thou

Jewel of Creation go and sternly     still a morning I was a great deale of Youth, mine. While     Europe’s eye is fire

ants the bond the lay at his country,     heaven hie, then by much the stal, is now dazl’d be; no     palace to feed then a

country. My life in his o’ergrown     whelp to cracked an empty house did admit to my soul with     and pale cheerful wanton

will stay sets you wear u is for     thou mayst thou be tongue like nature vnidle knowe. When they from     home agayne. I questions.