#so much of the universe was destroyed and her hands are stained

[lesbiantrish]

now im thinking about all the similarities between thirteen and being a dalek.

[divinehedons]

hard to explain.

previously: call it fate, call it karma | masterlist

pairing: dilf!joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~3.5k

summary: after your fall-out with the son of a texan contractor, you didn't expect to come face-to-face with the man; nor did you expect the feelings that come with him.

warnings: this is a dark explicit fic, minors DO NOT interact! once again, i am reminding you that this joel is a meaaaaanie. ginormous age gap (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), brief depiction of somnophilia, fingering, phone sex, mutual masturbation. proceed with caution!

note: thank you sosososososo much for 500+ followers! this is in celebration of everyone who enjoys a little debauchery, i hope you enjoy. you're welcome to suggest drabbles through my ask, and comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

It had to end. You knew it did. You knew it had to end not only when you saw Christopher in the arms of some other girl—you knew it had to end the morning you woke up in his father's bed, Joel Miller himself. You remember it, clear as day.

You remember waking to his tongue exploring your folds, legs already shaking. You wonder how long he had been down there, how long he had been tasting you, and you froze. You remember the way Joel smirks up at you, spreading you open with two fingers, your orgasm not far behind from how sensitive you already were.

The limbic system primarily existed with three mechanisms of responses: fight, flight, or freeze. As your vision cleared, you saw the three responses laid before you, along with their consequences. If you confronted him, you risked the exposure of your very own crime, secrets sliced open and exposed in the warm Texan morning air. If you stayed, you'd find yourself complicit in an active role for destroying a relationship that meant something to you. Therefore, there was only one option left.

You remember the way you shot up, barely getting something on when that Texan drawl emerges from the bed. Sweet pea... You don't hear the rest, shutting the door behind you in near perfect silence. You end it that morning with Christopher; over coffee after he tried to apologise to you. There was nothing to forgive.

Hell, you'd even think you were both even by then.

You left before noon, almost running away from the scene of the crime you have left with hands stained red. You didn't even notice you left a book you were reading until you were back at your parents' house, unpacking as you curse yourself.

You thought that was the end of it. But not quite. Who cares about fate or karma when both clearly wanted to mess with you?

—

You threw yourself directly into the fires of a new semester. Your days easily fill with readings and essays and everything else. You see your friends less and less. You hole up in your dorm room more often. The solitary existence, you began to think, allowed you to repent, to correct yourself. It was why you were so willing.

If only you knew how naive such things seemed.

It was early mid-autumn when you were proved wrong when Joel Miller himself knocked on the door of your dorm room. It was comical, how different Joel seemed against the backdrop of assorted university kids, frat boys, and other such cliques with his greying beard and tired eyes. It was almost comical because you didn't expect him to be here—months after your shared evening disappeared in the haze of stress and study. It was almost comical because you avoided Christopher like the plague, barely dodging out of sight the moment you recognise him anywhere.

Even in mundane things, the father was proving to be brighter than the son.

He sees you, eyes red from exhaustion, fingers stained with pen ink as the pregnant silence fills the air. You wonder what's on his mind as his eyes rake over your form. You're dressed in a campus sweatshirt and (he promised to thank a god or two) just panties. He goes to speak before you can shut the door on him. Before you could pretend and brush him off.

"Christ, sweet pea. What happened t'ya?"

That's how Joel Miller ended up in your shared room, looking over the small collection of books you had stacked up on some rickety shelving. You don't know what to say to him. You don't know what there is to say. You mumble fragments of things. "I'm sorry, mister Miller, this is not a good time..."

"Y'know, this could fall apart on ya. Shouldn't put too many things on it."

You look up at him, catching his eye once more. You feel the heat on your cheeks, feeling like an errant child with their hand caught in a cookie jar. It's strange, you think. You, who had once felt so welcomed by the same man, now look at things differently, wondering if he still thinks of you writhing against his sheets.

Because you think about it. Every fucking night. You think about his deep chuckle, that playful smirk, the orgasm you hadn't been able to recreate ever since. So, the question comes so easily to you: "Mister Miller, did you come here for a shelf?" Your shaky breath exposes you, reveals the tension in your shoulders from the idea of being so proximally close to you.

Slowly, you watch the edges of his mouth curve upwards in a slight, knowing smirk as he moves closer to you, chuckling as you attempt to back away, only for him to continue coming for you, until you feel the door press against the small of your back. His left palm moves to settle right beside your head, effectively pinning you where you are as he leans close enough for you to have a whiff of minty breath. "Why is that, darlin'? Did'ya want somethin' more?"

There is a shiver that shoots directly from your spine to your cunt, a wave of unabashed want as your lips part from his words. It's when a short laugh escapes him, moving to press a chaste kiss against your cheek, the prickling of his beard making your knees clench from expectation. "Actually, I came here to talk to Admissions about Chris and his failed major last semester. And of course, to return a book of yours."

For a moment, you think the conversation is over. Only Joel loves proving you wrong.

"But it's cute to know ya think' 'bout me, sweetheart."

Motherfucker.

The trade paperback emerges from his coat pocket, just as beaten as you had found it all those months ago in some decrepit, secondhand bookstore. You briefly catch the tile in front. The Master and Margarita. Bulgakov's opus. You gingerly take it from his grasp, managing a shy thanks just as you duck out from under his arm to place it on his desk. "I was just looking for that."

"Pretty dense read, if ya ask me." He turns to you, leaning against the door for a moment. "You worry your pretty l'il head too much." He moves to take his leave, opening the door as he steps out into the hallway with a gentlemanly nod.

"Well... I like the, um... thanks. Drive home safe."

He hums, looking around to check if there was anybody to hear his next words. But when he looks back to you, he had that same smirk that generated a tremble to the knee from you. "I hope ya still have my number. Maybe you should call the next time you're thinkin' 'bout an old man, baby doll."

And just like that, he leaves, shutting the door behind him as you collapse to the nearest seat, unbuttoning the top button of your blouse as you exhale.

What a fucking asshole.

—

You do not think of the same Texan contractor until a few days later, coming home from an admittedly awful date with some Tarantino fanboy that thought you needed help when it came to understanding Pulp Fiction. And, should anyone ask, you could honestly say you attempted your best behaviour, but eventually, there were just too many differences for you to logically accept his offer of sex back in his own (possibly) stinky dorm room.

So you walk back alone, sighing as you try not to think you made a foolish decision. You've been stuck in a dry spell, you think, considering the fact that it was Joel who last fucked you dumb. Considering it's been months of you fucking around and never really liking anyone because it's Joel you'll be touching yourself to at night.

With a sigh, you start to understand how foolish you were still being. And with a quiet gulp, you reach for your phone to dial that number you've been avoiding all week.

It's Joel, so, of course, it only took a few rings before you hear him on the other end.

"Well hello there, sugar."

You groan, leaning back to look up at the cloudy evening before clearing your throat. "Please don't be an asshole," you murmur, just as you hear him chuckle on the other end. "I was on a date this evening."

You hear the silence ensure from the other end. As if Joel immediately imagined you necking some frat boy or some other dickwad holding your breast while he's so far away, sitting down on his couch in his lonely home, so empty without you reading at the most random spots. As if he can smell how wet your cunt is and he's nowhere to be found. "It's just nine, baby doll, did you end the fun early?"

"I..." You swallow, entering your dorm room before your voice dropped into a whisper. "He... wasn't being nice..." You hang your coat as you check in to see your roommate fast asleep in her own bed, biting your lip gently. "And now... I'm back at the dorm and I have a roommate so... I'm just... I might just read until I'm tired."

"I might just be the last nice guy you'll meet, sweet pea," he teases, groaning as he adjusts himself in his spot. "And, as much fun as it is readin' about the Devil in Moscow, I think I'm much better company, no?" You perk up, stilling yourself mid-step as you replay the words in your head.

"You read it?" Already, you could feel the smile stretching across your cheeks as you imagine Joel, frowning down at your tiny book in an attempt to comprehend it.

"Tried to, doll. Too dense for an old man like me."

It's when you giggle. So suddenly and naturally that Joel feels a smile etch onto his own face. "I'm sorry, mister Miller. As much as I would like your company... I don't have any privacy right now..."

Joel hums from the other end, as if swallowed by his own thoughts. It's comfortable listening to the easy silene between the two of you, where nothing has to be said for five seconds.

Then, of course, he thinks with his cock and it gets him what he wants.

"I'm gettin' ya a room, darlin'. But you better stop with that mister Miller nonsense, got it?" You hear movement on the other end. "I'll send you the details. Call me when ya get there, sweet pea."

—

In the minutes where he has to wait for you to get where he wanted you, Joel has the time to contemplate just what he was doing to you. You, with a smile so sweet and young that it'd probably let his teeth ache if he let it. You, with your wandering, curious eyes that never asked a question. You, who he missed and hasn't stopped thinking about since that night.

If he was more honest, he would've told you that you also left some clothes from when you stayed over. If he was more honest, he'd tell you that you left your swimsuit in the bathroom beside the kitchen. But he's not honest. Actually, he's just a little bit too fucking selfish.

He'll never tell you of the number of times he breathed in the leftover scent of your skin and your perfect cunt staining the very pad of your swimsuit. He'll never tell you of the number of times he came just from the scent of you, cock in his fist, seed bursting out in powerful spurts.

He'll never tell you he could never have too much of you. And that he's been starving since you left him.

You call again, almost an hour later, shaky giggles being the first thing he hears. He tries to picture you taking in the hotel room he admittedly paid too much for. Tries to imagine if the bed was big enough, if the sheets were soft enough. If the fridge was filled to the brim with things you can enjoy. "Joel," you finally say, and he melts back into his own bed in his own house in Texas, "what the fuck, this is too much!"

He waits until your excitement wears off, smirk on his face. "Private enough for you to touch yourself, sweet pea?"

You audibly suck in a nervous breath, followed by the sound of you falling into the covers of your bed for the evening. He waits for you to respond, expecting some meek response. He doesn't know you've had a few drinks in you, doesn't know that you feel the heat of the alcohol pumping through your veins.

"Only if you touch yourself with me, Joel."

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph and all the saints combined. You were getting bolder. He began to chuckle, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice. "Good girl. You're getting better, aren't ya?" His large palm reaches down to cup himself through his sweats. "What'cha wearin', baby?"

You tell him and he pictures it in his head. You in a cute knitted sweater, your light washed jeans, your muddy sneakers. He likes to imagine the sweater to be one of his, even if he knows it isn't. He imagines his musk on your skin while you smile an dmake conversation with some boy.

"Anything under the sweater?"

"Uh..." He catches the hesitation in your voice, just slight enough, just there.

"My goodness, did you go on a date in just a sweater, baby doll? Not even anything underneath?" He tsks nonchalantly, reaching down to free his hardness with one hand, sighing in relief at the feel of some contact where he needed it. "D'you think he saw your nipples through dinner?"

It's when you squirm, much to his delight as you stare up at the ceiling. "Oh, God, I didn't even think of that..." You eventually sigh, and he waits for you to continue. "I don't know, he just... he's not quite as interesting."

He wonders what you meant by that. He wonders what to say, but you are quick to add more.

"It's not like I want to fall in love— I just..." Another sigh, the sound of movement as you roll over in bed. "I just want someone who'd do me no good. To fuck me up, just once, so I can understand it."

He chuckles, spitting on to his palm. "I can do that," he mutters, "how 'bout you take off your panties for me, doll?" He waits, judging from whatever sounds your phone picked up. "Well, don't act all demure, now. Use those li'l fingers of yours."

You obey, because it's Joel and he knows things. Because you thought you'd be getting fucked this evening. Because he paid for your time and it's the least you can do.

You listen to him as you slowly melt into the warm sheets, legs spread wide and two fingers shakily rubbing yourself. From the other end, you hear his speech interrupted by shaky grunts, some breaths, and even low, menacing growls.

"Tell me what'ya thought about, doll. When you think of me."

"Uh..." You feel a jolt of want rush through your skin as your fingers unintentionally speed up, leaving you moaning. "I-I... I think of your... your hands..." A whimper follows, making you bite your lip as you attempt to control yourself.

From the other end, Joel himself groans at the sounds you make, his own fist speeding up. "That's it... keep goin' and tell me, sweet pea..."

The image is clear in your head. His hands on your waist, cupping your aching breasts. You think of his desperate cock fucking you wide open in a way nothing satisfied you. You think of his hand tangled in your hair as he takes you from behind, held up only by his grasp. You think of his growling against your neck, teeth running carefully across the surface of your skin before he sucks a trail of hickeys down your wanton body.

You think of him telling you how good you are. You, you, and only you.

Meanwhile, he directs you between his own laboured breaths. If anything, he keeps a clear head about it anyway. "That's it, pretty baby, get one finger in for me..." The sensation is enough to make you whine, whilst he chuckles at how needy you sounded. "S'good, yeah? Pull out your fingers f'me and get a pillow between your thighs..."

It's so easy to obey when you're at the very brink of an orgasm. It's so easy to tear down the walls you built when all you ever wanted is presented to you on a silver platter. You put him on speaker, setting it on the bedside table before you get on your knees, grabbing the nearest pillow, lip bitten as you position yourself.

"Imagine me under ya, baby. Y'like my hands, didn't'cha? Imagine them guidin' you back and forth..."

You squeeze your eyes shut and it's so easy. Your hips grinding down on the pillow, cunt spread open and giving the pressure it so desperately called for. You could almost imagine Joel's cockhead, notching just quite there at the very fold of your cunt, but not quite going in.

So you grind against the pillow, pretending it's Joel and pretending he's grunting your ear, driven by praises and compliments while you cry out in pleasure.

"Stop right fuckin' now, sweet pea, or I end the call."

You pause, shakily, eyes teary as you hear the wet squelch of Joel's fist moving against his cock. "Oh, please, just let me... I was so close, Joel!" You groan, hanging your head as you chew on your lip. Your fists clench the sheets below as you wait for him to let you continue.

"On one condition, darlin'. You better stop runnin' after those stupid college boys who don't know the first thing about takin' care of you."

You take pause, trying to bear the weight of his words with the call of your cunt. You do not know how he grits his teeth at the other end, trying to hold off from his own orgasm, driven by the idea of the two of you cumming together despite being miles apart.

"I... you—"

"Five seconds, doll."

You gulp, clenching as you try and not to give in to the urge to move your hips. "Fine! Fine, fine, fine—"

"Good." He takes in a sharp breath, growling as images of you, his very own personal whore, so fucking willing to obey him, no matter what it is he asked for. "Make yourself cum for me, doll. S'alright. Such a good girl..."

You cry out, words of thanks bubbling from your mouth as you resume your movements once more. You call for him, telling him you're so close as you come closer and closer to the very crest you've been wanting all night.

"C'mon, come with me, baby. You wanna be good, don't ya?"

It's always more than enough. As if just one provocation from him is enough to send a chain reaction through you. You let him know, and he counts you down together.

Five. Your knees quake just as you hear Joel's breath grow more ragged.

Four. He says it through gritted teeth while your left hand grips on to the headboard for some sense of balance.

Three. You tell him you might not last for long but one growl for him makes you learn your place.

Two. You're begging and begging and begging, breath held and teeth clenched. He shuts his eyes before he sees stars.

One. It's so close you both can taste it.

Cum for me, baby, fuck, yes, yes yes—

For a moment, you are caught in a riptide of inexplicable high, vision going bright white momentarily before lulling you into a daze.

A beat passes. Then another.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You better not be falling in love with him.

[lesbianslvt666]

Queen Of Peace

Cw: smut wit plot, gore, descriptions of natural disasters, fake system of goddess and gods, mommy issues, mayor character death, hurt no comfort and much more that I don’t remember.

Peasant!farm!Ellie x exiled!Goddess!Reader

You fell to your knees, clothes sticking to your body, heavy crimson liquid staining your form. Your back facing the large arches the entrance to the temple was.

The desperation seeping through your bloody hands upwards, fingers almost gliding the clouds above, as if to touch the holly.

You couldn’t take this any longer, no feeling has ever been this intense, the punishment too angry, too lonely.

Your back slouched forward as your cries agitated your entire body.

"oh mother!, forgive me, I have paid for my mistakes, I had paid enough…"

Your pleading wasn’t enough, the physical body you were given was still yours, you were still cage inside of it.

"oh my dear! How come I have seen you slaughter and toy with the human kind, that one you are now part off. be grateful for I haven't make you go through the pain of generations, the suffering of those you have wronged."

Your destroyed state, kneeling like lost dog in front of her altar while her defying voice came to rise retrieving all the memories of what you have done.

The regret of those days coming to the pit of your stomach like a burning fire that drips down your eyes like boiling lava, tears of blood that could only be described as the pain in your chest.

Your heart almost exploded in you as the agony grew.

She was making you relive what you had done. What you made humans do.

Before this living torture you were part of the grandiose thrones in the heavens, where goddesses and gods alike sat. All, had a mother in common, she who gave birth to the universe, all inside, all outside, all that exists and that doesn’t.

She couldn’t do it all for herself.

The only thing gods and humans have alike is the blazing torture that loneliness constitutes.

So she created you and all your siblings.

Each representing a valance of the universe.

Life and death

Love and pain

Fire and water

You, you were the most human of all your siblings, for you meant destruction and rebirth.

And so you were full of flaws, and one of them was how stubborn and self-conceded you were.

Your siblings always felt the need to outshine each other, you of course, weren't the exception.

However, you always manage to disappoint somewhere.

But not them, not the humans, not the little creatures, oh so hungry for victory, hunger that mirrored your own. And that’s how, after a big fight with all the family, your anger had clouded all reason.

Back to your temple to rest, you found a crying woman, pleading on her knees, to "please help her kingdom", and her lovely husband, the prince, to win the upcoming war, and so you did.

They won the battle, the war and the small fights after.

And so the people came pleading to you again, and again and… again…

At first it was amusing how eager these creatures were to kill each other, and then your laughter crowded the temple.

Amusement became humour, but soon humour became boredom.

Helping with destruction above all the men could see, land crashing on itself, tectonic planks waltzing, creating a horrendous symphony that destroyed and hurt.

No path, no rock, not a singular place wasn’t covered in blood, the earth mixing with exploding volcanos and sea waters that rose as high as possible.

Sky covered in clouds that crashed against each other with the anger of your soul.

The rivers run wild in crimson shades, bodies flowing down with force. The wind carried screeching screams of fervours agony ripped from the humans. You blamed it on themselves, for they started with the pleading.

You were so immerse destroying that you had forgotten to rebirth.

Your mother realized way too late.

When all life almost ceased to exist.

And that’s how you spent seven thousand years resurrecting live on earth.

To the contrary of destruction, rebirthing took an actual tool on your body.

By the last day of the rebirth, your body was merely a resemblance of what it was.

So human like, so ephemeral.

You fell hard on earth, the smallest amount of holly keeping you from burning out when you entered the atmosphere.

however, it burned all your clothes.

Naked body on the sand, beach waves behind you wetting your skin, liking like needles.

She saw you after a few hours of your falling.

She was struck by your beauty.

Nothing that she has ever seen.

Before she could think, she rescued you, how was she going to explain her father Joel of this girl she was bringing home.

The first night was the hardest.

"Ellie!, Ellie! The girl is awake!"

Joel screamed to the winds hopping the message would reach Ellie who was working on the field.

Your screams could be heard from miles away, she was running towards the small cabin, sweat running down her palms.

Calming you wasn’t easy, you would scream for forgiveness.

Screaming the most incoherent set of words.

Calling for your mother.

Apologizing to the earth…

Your eyes were shut hard, almost painful and when Ellie least expected you opened them, big like the moon, red veins almost exploding in them, the fear you felt in your chest translated to Ellie like she had seen the horrors you had caused.

Ellie placed a hand on her mouth, hardly slapping herself shut when she jumped backwards, falling to the ground when she looked at your eyes, tears of crimson blood falling like scarlet jewels.

And as scared as she was, she was always there, always to calm you down, every day she would make you forget more and more.

Or was now your human brain that couldn’t possible resist the pain of the knowledge you carried.

She taught you how to do human things, she taught you how to work the land, How to cook, You taught her how to fight, how to care for animals the she had never even thought as pets.

Joel, he felt like home, a hug from him felt like healing something you didn’t knew you had in your chest.

A paint your mothers reject had planted in your heart, growing like poison through your veins.

Every day was spent between taking care of the land, animals, cooking, laughing, chatting and you teaching them both how to write and read, how to paint, and Joel taught both of you how to play guitar.

And for a sweet second you forgot you didn’t deserved this.

One night, when Joel had to go to the nearest town with his brother, Ellie and you spent the whole day together, dancing and singing, not a chore today she said giving you her beautiful signature smile.

Her fingers touched yours and then came up your arm.

You had always felt this thing for Ellie, an aching sensation in your chest that made your heart drum with the force of a thousand storms, and right now your realized that this was so intense that you almost cried, bur you didn’t.

"can I kiss you?"

Her inquiry a whisper, almost as soft as the breeze outside, and if you hadn't been so close to her, almost flushed bodies you wouldn’t have heard her.

You knew much of kissing from books you’ve read and songs you’ve heard. But never had done it before.

"I don’t know how to…"

Your words shaking, open sentence at the end to signal the girl in front of you that you do want this.

"I've never done it before either."

Her bright smile embarrassed and her face felt hot, she wanted to be forever with you, she was just worried that she might not please you. before she pulled away you went with your human instincts.

Physical affection wasn’t much of a godly form, she taught you more about it that you had ever experience.

And now, with her hands intertwine at you waist, your mouth crashed with hers.

The feeling of her warm lips moving awkwardly against yours made the pain in your chest become butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Your hands moving desperately now to touch her, finger tracing up her torso leaving one hand on her neck and the other on her waist.

And both lost all sense of discomfort, feeling your soft delicious lips made her delirious.

your body soft against her.

She moaned as your hand moves to breeze over her breast and she started to touch all over you.

She was drunk off your sent, Like a drug where only you clouded her mind.

Yours was foggy.

Ellie.

Ellie.

"Ellie…"

Her name floating out of your mouth deliciously.

In her 22 years of life, Ellie has never felt this intensely about anything in her life.

She was constantly surrounded by men, and the only girl she ever fell for left her behind. Scared of being in love with another women.

She was so lonely romantically.

At first she only wanted to take care of you, an act of kindness natured by her humanity.

But as time passed and she got to know you it felt like she only ever wanted to be with you.

And you felt the same.

Your movements felt so human, instinct powered by emotions you had never felt before.

She by the other hand, was trying to keep herself sane, as you both sat on her make shift bed, kissing passionately but as separate as Ellie could, she feared like if she went any further she wouldn’t stop herself.

The space making you groan, you wanted nothing more in your life than to be with her, than to touch her, and for her to touch you.

So you straddle her, both legs on each side of her hips.

Her lap comforting and warm, she squirm under you, feeling the bubbles of your ass on her.

Intoxicating presence healing your swollen heart.

Years of pain patching up by Ellies soft touches, needy to feel every inch of your body.

Both your hot mouths open for the other to explore, connected by a now passionate kiss, drool falling off the corners of both mouths.

Your hands kneading now on the soft skin of her tits, her whimpers filling your mouth like music on a ceremony.

You separated from her, taking off her shirt hungrily and she helped you take yours. Both naked in a second.

You wanted to worship her, fall to your knees and show her how much she meant to you.

She took you to now be on top of you, hesitation on both parts driven by inexperience.

"Ellie, please…" your whimpers made Ellie twitch, sleek falling in a string down her freckled legs.

"please what angel?" her voice cracked when she felt your fingers gracing up her leg, collecting her wetness.

"please make me yours Ellie."

Fingers going back to your mouth to taste her and she went insane.

She kissed and marked all that she could, every mole, every part of your beautiful skin.

She needed to let you know that she was yours, by making you hers.

Her hand caressed your skin all the way down to your cunt, spreading your lips, shivers running down her spine.

"so wet baby, so pretty"

a moan threatening to fall from your lips, your face inches from her, not kissing her yet, you gave a look on her pretty face, her closed eyes open at the lack of contact, she pushed a finger in and you both felt a wave of something intense like a lightning flowing from the depths of both souls.

The sound of rain droplets falling outside crowned the room with a beautiful melody, Ellie was grunting too enchanted by you, your mouth agape, small breathy moans falling from your lips, unsure if you could be as loud as you wanted.

"don’t be shy my love, no one can hear us" Ellie's voice was raspier, just like when she wakes up in the morning and it made your heart flutter, fast butterflies sending waves of the thought of forever waking up next to her, her voice natural to you and finally feel the warm of love embody your soul entangled with hers.

Kisses and moans, filled the room, wet sounds of both mouths and cunts overlapping with each other.

Finally when both came to each other peaks, you fell to her chest, hearts beating fast against one another, under a thin blanket. the sound of rain more intense, thunder and air severe outside.

Ellie reached one of her hands to turn off the candle beside you, a knock interrupting the moment, desperate screams of Tomy coming from the outside and you jumped from the bed, putting on the first dress you found, while Ellie put back her previous clothes.

You were the one who opened the door to a drenched Tomy, wet hands holding his hair in torment, he entered the house right away, walking in circles.

His eyes drowsy and his demeanour obscure.

You were worried for him but Ellie seemed to know.

"what happened to Joel? Where is he!?"

The way to the town was slippery, rain softening the ground beneath you, Ellie's horse following Tommy's.

Your heart felt a torturous string, the guilt burning up your insides again.

After a three hour travel Tomy stopped at white house, outsiders wating in the rain for their loved ones, a small house that doubled as an alms house.

Upon arrival Ellie entered the place without notice, searching endlessly for Joel, a mare pulp of flesh that was now his body, the smell of death emerging all around.

She fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face like waterfalls of painful realization.

She was taken out of the place, face glued to his body as one of the medics placed a white thin fabric over his body, blood seeping through the white sheet.

Tomy and you buried his body on the outer skirts of Joel's land under his favourite tree.

Days passed, months swiftly went by, and you would wake up in the middle of the night to a cold bed.

Somehow Ellie was always under the oak tree, sometimes Joel's guitar on hand, playing a sombre tune, other times sleeping on the freezing ground.

The first few weeks you had to fight her to get inside of the house, purple lips signalling to her frozen state, it got progressively harder to get her back inside, to the point that you had now made a torturous routine of seen her in that state, placing a fuzzy blanket on her shoulders and a warm candle light to make it less cold.

She wanted to be left alone, so you wouldn’t bother her.

During the day she would silently make her chores, eat with you and sleep the rest of the day, she didn't talked to you for days.

One of the nights when she was shaking under the tree, sleep state shivering with cold, she heard the fierce voice of your mother.

"now see whose fault is that…"

She opened her eyes in fear, the voice so severe she felt dizzy, however, when she opened her eyes she wasn’t at her usual spot.

Colossal columns of precious stones rising above her head, so tall she couldn’t see the end.

sharp laughs from a familiar voice landing in her chest like daggers when she understood who it was.

When she came closer to the source she saw you, hysteric laughter erupting from your chest as you stood in front of a large hole on the floor, she came closer to you, noticing you couldn’t see her, the hole seemed to be above the skies. 

Horrors beyond her comprehension hit her in the face, how could you laugh at that.

She wanted to wake up from that nightmare but she couldn’t. she couldn’t close her eyes, she couldn’t move an inch, and so she was bind to watch the torture you made man create.

At the end of what felt like an eternity of suffering she saw one last vision, Joel.

She screamed and scream, but couldn’t do anything.

Horrific images of Joel's death imprinted on her vision and your laugh became so loud her head was hurting, her hands came to her ears but she couldn’t stop the sound.

You were having so much fun with his torture, how dare you.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she turned haplessly to it, a tall woman a beauty she couldn’t comprehend looked down at her.

"I have shown you now, why I sent her to earth, she had to pay for her sins, I as a mother couldn't control her wrath"

And Ellie finally understood the nonsense you were saying when you first woke up.

She had never hated anyone in her life before.

She woke up, standing up, fury burning through her veins.

She walked quietly to the kitchen grabbing a silver knife, strong enough to butcher an animal.

Strong enough to kill you.

She straddle you without a care, she screamed at you how much she hated you, tears running down her face and she swung the knife at you.

Your sudden waking up state you defended yourself, dodging her knife and grabbing it from her hands, you couldn’t control yourself now that you were alert, strong hands fighting against each other for the knife, and when you least expected Ellies eyes opened wide, her mouth open to speak.

"your mother was right" her thick blood flew out of her and you tried your best to stop the blood flow, but the river was too sudden, and your movements weren't fast enough.

[coeurdalene]

looking for some light

masterlist | ao3

summary: he tells raleigh, “i want to come back from this mission, ‘cause i quite like my life.” he means, there’s still so much i want to do, so much i have to do. (aka chuck wants to make it through this goddamn war so he can finally live a normal life, even if he doesn’t really know what that means.)

pairing: chuck hansen x reader

warning(s): character death (sorry), swearing, mentions of canon-typical violence.

word count: 3.86k

a/n: i meant to have this finished by the ten year anniversary of the movie but uh… anyways, here it is now! this is my love letter to chuck hansen and also a projection of my want for a beach house.

The universe gifts Chuck an unwanted Christmas present in the form of a memorandum. He swears under his breath when you trudge into the Mission Control Center that morning with a dejected frown on your face and shove the crisp paper into his hands. His eyes fall on the letterhead, embossed with the familiar spread-winged eagle, and he already knows what it contains. He’d been expecting it for months. He resists the urge to scream, to crumple the paper into a ball and hurl it at the trash bin with every ounce of remaining strength in his body. He doesn’t envy you when you announce the bad news to everyone else, fulfilling your final duty as Sydney’s Chief LOCCENT Officer.

Days later, not even twenty-four hours after the Shatterdome decommissioning and right at the beginning of the new year, the universe offers him—and the rest of Sydney—another unwanted gift.

Mutavore is an ugly thing. Nearly ninety meters tall and weighing over two thousand tons, it’s hunched over as if struggling to support its own weight, blade-like plates protruding from its head and back.

“I don’t care how many eyes it has,” he says after you read out its classification and measurements, “I’m gonna kick its ass.”

(Six. It has six eyes. Just because he doesn’t care doesn’t mean he won’t pay attention.)

The category four Kaiju plows through the coastal wall like a knife cutting through warm butter and tramps into Sydney Harbour, stopping only to raise its head and let out a guttural screech, as if barging through a metal barrier hadn't been enough to announce its presence. He wonders how many millions of dollars have now been reduced to rubble at the bottom of the bay and how many weeks were spent welding together beams that took only a few seconds to destroy. 

Then, its beady eyes—all six of them—focus on Striker Eureka and her brass knuckles glinting in the sun. It screeches again before charging headfirst into Striker’s swinging fist.

Mutavore dies as quickly as it breached the wall, lying motionless in the bay, blood-soaked missiles lodged in its chest and Kaiju blue staining the water. 

“That’s Striker Eureka’s tenth kill to date. It’s a new record,” he boasts to the reporter in the aftermath. He ignores the questions about the decommissioning and brushes off the look his father gives him. Don’t get too cocky, he looks like he wants to say.

When they return to the Shatterdome, the J-Tech crew cleans Striker, polishing her knuckles and wiping Kaiju remains from the Conn-Pod. Chuck takes a long hot shower. Then, the move to Hong Kong begins.

The Anchorage Shatterdome—the cold and stalwart Icebox—had been the first to close. He remembers how you had stared blankly at the official PPDC statement for hours while he watched the newscaster on the television read it out loud. The Marshal had been on the broadcast, too, brought on for further questioning. When the anchor asked about the future of the Jaeger Program, he had assured her that, as long as the Kaiju kept coming, the Jaegers would keep fighting. Chuck had laughed dryly at that. The dwindling funding from the U.N. would say otherwise and whispers of better opportunities at the wall hung in the air, getting louder with every passing day.

The closure of the Icebox set off a string of shutdowns: Lima and Tokyo later that month, Panama City in November, Vladivostok and Los Angeles a few weeks after. The clock was ticking and it was only a matter of time before that damned memorandum arrived in Sydney, his fate dictated by its contents.

His beloved Sydney Shatterdome closes at the turn of the year, leaving behind its only remaining sibling in Hong Kong. What had once been a robust network of PPDC hubs was now reduced to one. 

And the clock continues to tick. 

“We don’t need a stupid wall,” Chuck declares on the flight to Hong Kong, glaring at the news broadcast replaying footage of the Sydney attack. “We need better pilots.”

He’d expressed the same sentiment to the reporter who interviewed him after Mutavore’s attack, too, blaming the fall of the Jaeger program on the mediocrity of those involved. He isn’t sure if it’s that simple—you had explained something to him about politics and funding and morale, government nonsense he didn’t understand—but he sure as hell knows that the Jaegers would be winning if pilots stopped letting the Kaiju kick their asses.

“Have some respect,” his father chides. “Every pilot has fought tooth and nail to protect the people they love.”

And perhaps that’s the truth—it sure is for him. His days consist of sore muscles from training, never getting enough sleep, and always anticipating another fight. He does it for his father, who has been a soldier for as long as he can remember. For his mother, whose untimely death lingers in the back of his mind every time he sets his eyes on a Kaiju. For you, who frequently pulls all-nighters and agonizes over details to make sure the Shatterdome stays running. And for Max, of course. (Silly little dog probably has no idea what a Kaiju is.)

So, yeah, perhaps it is the truth. But it doesn’t change the fact that they only have eight months left of funding, or that the U.N. thinks a wall will fare better than a Jaeger.

“We won’t be getting more pilots. All we can do is work with what we still have,” you chime in, pulling Chuck out of his thoughts. “But, on the bright side, our remaining pilots are some of the best in program history.”

“Including me?” he smirks. You laugh, cheerful and bright, punching his arm lightly. Max shifts in his sleep at the sudden noise. His father gives him that look again. Don’t get too cocky.

He spends the rest of the flight listening to you read briefing notes on “Operation Pitfall,” the Marshal’s shiny new plan to end the war by detonating a bomb at the throat of the Breach. Somehow, the PPDC had procured a thermonuclear warhead from the Russians, entrusting Striker Eureka to carry it while the remaining Jaegers played defense. 

Chuck is cynical about this plan. They had already tried (and failed) to drop things into the Breach. A bomb would only bounce back at them and kill anything in range.

He quips sarcastically if the Marshal had thought of that. You respond only by flipping through the file again for an explanation. He knows you won’t find one. 

As he steps off the plane and onto the landing pad, he’s met with a grinning Tendo Choi shouting over the patter of heavy rain, “Welcome to Hong Kong!”

The man, wearing a grey suit jacket too wide around the shoulders shakes their hands in greeting before ushering them out of the rain and into the Shatterdome. Chuck sidesteps some J-Techs as he enters, surveying his surroundings.

He had been much younger the last time he visited Hong Kong and much less invested in all the inner workings of the PPDC. He remembers mechanics and pilots shouting and running about, dirt and scuff marks on the floor, and his father reminding him to keep a tight grip on Max’s leash. It had felt unfamiliar then, but he realizes now that it isn’t too different from Sydney. Same high ceiling, same metal catwalks, and almost the same arsenal of Jaegers towering over him. It’s a little older, a little grittier, and a little more worn down, but no longer foreign. 

He spots Cherno Alpha in one of the bays, its stalwart form hunkering and heavy. The Kaidanovskys stand at its feet, engaged in conversation. Crimson Typhoon stands opposite it, brilliant red and regal. J-Techs gather around her three arms, inspecting and cleaning the rotating saw blades. 

“Striker arrived a few minutes before you did,” Tendo gestures to the shiny silver Jaeger standing in the far bay, metal glinting under the bright lights of the hangar. “The crew is getting her settled in.”

Then, Chuck’s eyes fall on the fourth and final Jaeger. That last he had heard of Gipsy Danger was that she had been decommissioned, damaged beyond repair from a mission gone wrong. But here she stands—untarnished metallic blue, left arm intact, and definitely not lying forgotten in Oblivion Bay.

“What’s that old rustbucket doing here?” he leers, very aware that there isn’t a single speck of rust on her.

“She looks brand new,” you remark. 

“She is, sorta,” Tendo replies, “We’ve been fixing her up: a new fluid synapse system, new engine blocks, and a new hull. She’ll be holding the defensive perimeter for you in Operation Pitfall, along with Cherno Alpha and Crimson Typhoon.”

“Does she have pilots?” you inquire.

“Not yet,” Tendo grins. “But she will.”

Chuck hopes that these pilots won’t be incompetent idiots, whoever they might be.

The peaceful moments are rare, but cherished and so welcomed. In these instances, he lets his guard down, breathes deeply, and allows himself to think of anything other than training or fighting.

One of his favorites is somewhere in between Striker’s fourth and fifth kills: a lazy afternoon in bed with your back against the headboard and his head in your lap, sunlight streaming in through the windows with your fingers carding lightly through his hair.

“After this war is over,” he declares, imagining a life without the chaos and destruction that comes with being a Jaeger pilot, “we’ll buy a nice house in the suburbs where we’ll live blissfully for the rest of our lives.”

“The suburbs are nice,” you contend, “but how about a beach house on the Gold Coast? Or Port Douglas?”

He chuckles at that, picturing what living by the ocean without the fear of a Kaiju attack would be like. He would spend his mornings engulfed in the soothing murmur of the sea, gazing out at the unbroken horizon. His afternoons basking in the warmth of the sun, feet buried in the soft sand. His evenings surrounded by music and your melodious laughter, trying not to step on your toes while you lead him through a dance in your living room.

Quiet, he thinks. Serene. The only unrest would be the waves at high tide or the gulls swooping down to steal his food.

“Wherever you want, as long as it’s you and me. And Max. Right, bud?” he grins at the bulldog lying at the foot of the bed. Max lets out a little grunt. Chuck takes that as a sign of agreement.

“Sounds lovely,” you reply, your hand moving to rest against his cheek. He turns his head to kiss your palm, heart soaring at the way you smile softly down at him.

All Chuck knows about Raleigh Becket is that he quit the Jaeger Program. That information alone is enough for him to dislike the guy. He doesn’t trust some washed-up pilot to run defense for him while he carries a 2400-pound bomb on the back of his Jaeger. Doesn’t care that his father fought alongside the guy in Manila or that he single-handedly piloted his Jaeger back to shore. Doesn’t bother to hold back a grimace when Raleigh tells him that he’d been working on the wall for the past five years.

“If you slow me down, I'm gonna drop you like a sack of Kaiju shit,” he hisses at him in the mess hall. He ignores the way his father watches him with disapproval as he stalks away.

His bad mood turns worse when Mako Mori is named Raleigh’s copilot. 

He has known Mako for years. They had grown up in Shatterdomes together, met a few times when the Marshal had brought her to Sydney, and briefly bonded over their love of dogs. He’s close enough to her to know that she can fight well and that she has one of the best simulator scores he’s ever seen. (Better than his, although he’d never admit that.) But, she has no experience in a Jaeger and no understanding of what a drift is actually like, which, in his eyes, makes her no better than Raleigh. He isn’t surprised when they’re both out of alignment during their test run, your concerned tone alerting the rest of LOCCENT of the deviation, or when Mako begins chasing the RABIT, raising apprehensive murmurs from the crowd of onlookers. Or when it ends in Tendo pulling the plug on Gipsy’s power.

“Worse mistakes have happened,” Tendo sighs as Gipsy’s plasma cannon goes offline. Chuck scowls. There is no space for even a single mistake in the plan to attack the Breach, especially amateur ones like chasing RABITs. He knows that the Marshal understands this, too.

Later, as he paces in the Marshal’s office, still brimming with anger from Raleigh and Mako’s failure of a test run, he snaps, “He's a has-been. She’s a rookie. I don’t want them protecting my bomb run. sir.”

His father stands across the room, arms crossed and mouth set tightly in a frown. In the corner, you and Tendo are huddled over a tablet, discussing the drift results in hushed voices. The Marshal warns him to watch his tone. Chuck rolls his eyes in response and thinks to himself, He knows I’m right.

He finds Raleigh and Mako standing silently in the hall outside after his father kicks him out of the room. He rounds on the former, seething and jabbing an accusatory finger into his chest, “I want to come back from this mission, ‘cause I quite like my life.”

He turns to Mako, sneering and spitting out some distasteful things, ignoring the feeling that he’ll regret it later. 

When Raleigh’s fist makes contact with his jaw, Chuck sees red.

On bad nights, he wakes up in a cold sweat, plagued by nightmares of being painfully ripped to shreds by sharp claws and teeth. Some nights he wakes up angry, frustrated with himself after overanalyzing his fights. Other nights, he relives the moment when he found out about his mother’s death, shaking with body-wracking sobs and shuddering with each intake of breath. But you hold him through it, your soothing hands on his back and comforting words in his ear. He focuses on your voice, steady and calm, and syncs his breathing with yours.

“You’re okay,” you murmur. “They’re just nightmares. You’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” he repeats.

On bad nights, you confess your fear that the war will never end, or that you’ll burn out before it does. Some nights, you feel that you’re not doing enough, that you need to get back to work even though it’s past midnight. Other nights, you worry that you’ll spend your entire life fighting, that you’ll never be able to rest. But he holds you through it, his calloused fingers on your cheeks wiping away your tears. You focus on his touch, firm and resolute, and rest your hands on top of his.

“It’s okay,” you contend, voice shaky but certain. “I have you. This is enough.”

“This is enough,” he repeats.

Yet, he can’t help but want more. He wants the beach house instead of the cold metal walls of the Shatterdome. Wants to wake up to the sun, your smile, and Max’s whining for food instead of doomsday alarms and Kaiju attacks. Wants you to be able to sleep in for once. Wants to spend his days sunbathing and learning to surf instead of training in combat drills and preparing for another attack. Wants to give you some peace, and to find some of his own.

He tells Raleigh, “I want to come back from this mission, ‘cause I quite like my life.”

He means, There’s still so much I want to do, so much I have to do.

Chuck has only felt true fear a few times in his life. Standing on top of his disabled Jaeger with only a flare gun in his hands is one of them. In the moment, he tells himself that he isn’t afraid, that a double event isn’t any different from any other Kaiju attack, and that Striker will come back online in just a second. The adrenaline coursing through his veins overpowers the feeling of impending doom anyway. But, later, as he reflects on the feeling of relief that had washed over when Gipsy’s fog lights enveloped him, he admits that he had been scared shitless. And, he admits (only to himself) that he’s thankful for Raleigh and Mako, even if they’re has-beens or rookies.

He holds you closer that night and knows that you’ve already picked up on all the details of his uneasy expression. Still, he musters up the strength to confess aloud, “I thought we were gonna die.”

You’re silent, responding only by rubbing your hand across his back and hugging him a little tighter. The heavy weight of his lingering fear sits in his chest as he continues, “Dad had injured his arm, our comms were out, Cherno and Crimson were gone, and there was a fucking Kaiju ready to swallow us whole. Shooting that flare at it made it even more pissed off.”

“Not your best idea,” you remark playfully. “You’d think all that training to prepare you for situations like this would help you keep calm and think of something rational to do.”

“It was Dad’s idea, not mine,” he shrugs.

“Well, I’m glad the flare managed to keep it occupied long enough for Gipsy to get there,” you reply, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “And I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Me, too,” he sighs, the weight in his chest lightening slightly.

When he drifts off to sleep, he dreams of the war ending and a house overlooking the shore.

If, a year ago, you had told Chuck that he would be piloting a Jaeger with the Marshal Stacker Pentecost, he would have laughed in your face and asked why the Marshal wasn’t off doing better things (like convincing world leaders to keep funding the Jaeger Program or figuring out ways to increase pilot recruitment). And, if you had told him that he would hear the phrase “there’s a third signature emerging from the Breach,” he would have rolled his eyes and declared the situation impossible. (“I’d still kick its ass, though,” he would have probably said.)

Yet, here he is, strapped into Striker with the Marshal as his copilot, only three hundred meters from the Breach, watching a category five Kaiju materialize in front of him. He feels his stomach drop as he lays eyes on Slattern’s angular head and the sharp spike protruding from its chest. When it roars, the water around them ripples, and the ground beneath shakes. He barely has any time to think before the massive beast rears its head and charges, swinging its heavy leathery tail directly at them. 

The hit knocks Striker off her feet and sends her crashing into a nearby hydrothermal vent. He winces and swears, body aching and head beginning to throb as streams of water push and jostle the Jaeger. Slattern prepares to charge again just as Striker regains her footing and he easily falls into a fighting stance along with the Marshal, fists clenched and ready to strike. This time, when it attacks, they’re ready—dealing out swift punches that send the Kaiju reeling.

He isn’t sure how much of it is the Marshal and how much of it is himself, but the exhilaration that rushes through him as one of Striker’s sting blades slices across Slattern’s throat reinvigorates him. The other blade cuts into its arms, blue blood spilling from deep gashes. It screeches, and he expects it to rush at them again, but it swims away, blood trailing eerily in the water.

He takes the moment of respite to breathe, and to survey the damage. The harsh red light of the many, many warning messages flashes across his vision. He fiddles with some controls, watches as the Marshal does the same, and sighs heavily when neither of their attempts fixes anything. He resigns himself to hoping that Striker can hold on a little longer. She had gotten him this far, surely she could see him through to the end of this war—and to the beginning of his life at peace.

But–

“The attack jammed the bomb release,” he notices. “We’ll have to manually override–”

A yell from LOCCENT cuts him off. Chuck’s stomach drops even further when he hears someone say, “Striker, you have two Kaiju converging on you fast!”

He curses loudly and immediately knows, There’s no time for a manual override.

The Marshal is on the intercom before Chuck can even begin to formulate a plan, shouting to Raleigh and Mako. 

“You know exactly what you have to do,” he declares. “Gipsy is nuclear, take her to the Breach.”

“What can we do, sir?” Chuck asks, bracing for the hit.

“We can clear a path,” the Marshal answers firmly, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, “for the lady.”

Even without the drift connecting their thoughts, Chuck understands.

“Well, my father always said, ‘If you have a shot, you take it,’” he remarks, knowing that, on the other end, his father is listening with pride. Chuck can admit that he was an arrogant dickhead with no respect for any of the pilots around him and that he never bothered to hide his resentment for his old man, never gave him a reason to like the man his son had become. Yet, he knows—and has always known—that his father is proud of him. (He is proud of his father, too, for what it’s worth.)

In the final moments, his thoughts drift to you: swathed in blankets and gathered in his arms on cold winter nights, perched on the seat of a stationary bike and reading reports while keeping him company in the gym, wrapped in his brown leather jacket with Max’s leash in your hand while accompanying him for walks around the Shatterdome. He recalls your bright laughter when he’d crack stupid jokes, your serious voice you’d use only over the intercom, and the mischievous glint in your eyes when you’d pretend you hadn’t given Max extra treats.

“I love you,” he had said before entering the Conn-Pod, so quietly that only you could hear him, holding you tightly and kissing away your concerned frown. The warmth of your hands against his cheeks had lingered as he had stepped away.

“I love you,” he says now, loud enough for you to hear him over all the noise, swallowing the lump in his throat and blinking away the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry we’ll never get that beach house.”

“But, I had you,” he says. “It was enough.”

When the bomb detonates, he’s surrounded by blinding light and a deafening boom. And, finally, peace.

In his dreams, he can’t tell where he is, only that Max is sitting at his feet, his father is somewhere in the distance, and you’re next to him with your hand in his, fingers intertwined.

[xlovely-liviix]

Memory Reboot: A Super Mario Fanfiction

Uhm...

So basically I disappeared. BUT! I'm back, and i've got a brand new fanfiction for yall! Allow me to introduce: Memory Reboot.

Get yalls tissues ready because baby, this is gonna be a WILD ride.

Hey Mario mutuals + friends, wanna check out this sad story that came out of my bag of ideas? (I barely have the balls to ask-- my confidence took a vacation)

@stripetkattelalala54-gf @pepperycar @peaches2217 @nuctoria @bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @silenzahra @keakruiser @supergay-64 @kelbreyworshipper @luigixfanxayjay @alex-procrastinates

Enjoy the story :)

(TW: death, gore [in which I suck at describing], etc.)

Wheezes and gasps were seemingly the only noises that escaped Mario's mouth. Each and every breath was painful as could be. His body ached, his head throbbed. Agonizing stabs of pain shot through his chest with every inhale.

The warmth of fresh blood that was his own stained Mario's fingers. He looked down at his trembling hand, his heart pounding in his ears. His vision was blurred, but he could make out the pale, almost translucent skin and the jagged edges of bone that poked through.

With a pained grunt, Mario forced himself to sit up, his back pressing against the cold, hard surface of the stone wall of the burning shop.

His eyes darted about, taking in the scene of devastation.

The once-thriving Toad Town was now a pile of ash and rubble, a few burning embers here and there the only signs of life. The wind howled through the streets, carrying with it the acrid stench of smoke and despair.

The air was thick with the smell of burning wood, charred metal, and something else; something much worse. It smelled like death.

A smell that-- albeit familiar-- felt so out of place.

It was the smell of fire, and the smoke that rose from it carried with it memories of warmth and comfort. But here, in this desolate wasteland that was once Toad Town, the smell was a cruel reminder of the destruction that had befallen them all.

Mario couldn't believe how much his life had changed in the past year.

Bowser had come and gone, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake. Instead of his usual childish antics of kidnapping the princess, he caused actual destruction to the Mushroom Kingdom, resulting in mass genocide of the inhabitants of the kingdom.

He destroyed the kingdom, annexed it's territories, overthrew the government--

Mario's face darkened as he reached into the collar of his shirt, tugging on the chain that rested there, the cold metal piercing against his burnt skin. He pulled it out, to reveal a ring, its golden surface a contrast to the silver one of the chain.

It was the engagement ring he had bought for Peach. He had never gotten the chance to give it to her. It was a symbol of a life that once was, filled with joy, hope, and love. Now, it felt like a taunt from the universe, a reminder of what he had lost.

He clutched the ring in his hand. Anger, along with pain and hurt surged through his veins.

He killed Peach.

He killed Peach.

The words echoed in Mario's mind like a never-ending nightmare, a dark truth that haunted his every moment. His thoughts raced back to the day when he had found her, lifeless in the wreckage of her castle, her once-beautiful eyes staring vacantly into the abyss. The flaming wreckage of Toad Town served as a twisted backdrop to the vivid memory, a stark contrast to the vibrant, bustling place it had been when Peach was alive.

She died with this kingdom.

So did---

Another sob erupted from his throat as he clutched the ring even harder. He could feel the heat from his hand begin to warm the metal, almost as if it was trying to burn away the memory.

His brother.

His fratellino.

The memory of his brother, Luigi, washed over him like a tidal wave. The laughter, the camaraderie, the competitions, the adventures they had shared together were now just echoes in the vast emptiness of his soul. The weight of his loss was so profound that it felt like a piece of him had been torn away, leaving a gaping hole that no amount of time could ever fill.

It was all his fault. He couldn't protect him. He couldn't protect them.

And now they were gone, and everything was falling apart.

Hope was gone, his friends were gone, the love of his life was gone, his brother was gone. He tried getting up, to put one foot forward despite the situation. After all, that's what he was known for. Never giving up, despite the circumstances.

But it was hard rising up, if it wasn't them he was rising for.

The weight of his body felt like it was pushing him down, gravity a cruel force that he didn't have the strength to fight. His legs wobbled like a newborn deer's as he tried to stand, the pain in his chest a constant reminder of the gaping wound in his heart.

He felt himself slowly succumbing to the pain, the guilt, the overwhelming sense of loss. Mario's body, weakened by the struggle to survive, could no longer fight against the relentless torment that gripped him. As his vision began to blur, his last glimpse was of the burning mess, the charred remains of what was once Toad Town.

It's time for a Memory Reboot. 

Mario opened his eyes slowly, the previous blur of the world now forming to make objects in a hospital room. The familiar beeping of a heart monitor filled the air, and the smell of antiseptic cleanser assaulted his nostrils. He felt a vague sense of discomfort in his limbs, but overall, he seemed to be in one piece.

As he blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the overwhelming brightness of the room, he spotted a flash of green pacing back and forth.

Mario's charred voice only came out as a croak, but it succeeded in it's task of getting the person's attention. His brother whirled around, his face a mask of worry and relief.

He hurried over to the bedside, his gaze darting between Mario and the monitors before settling on his brother's face. "You're awake," he breathed, immediately diving in for a hug. It was a tight, fierce embrace, as if he were afraid that Mario might disappear again if he let go. Mario returned the hug weakly, his body still aching from the ordeal. 

"Sorry, bro. I-- I didn't mean to be so....forceful-" Luigi chuckled, his voice quivering with relief and unrevealed desperation. "It's just...I thought I'd lost you. And..." He trailed off, eyes darting away as he tried to compose himself.

Mario furrowed his eyebrows. Despite his fragile state, he reached a shaky hand up, and felt around gingerly. His shaking temporarily subsided as he found his brother's hand, clasping it tightly. "No. I--"

He drew in a raspy breath. His voice felt rough, unused. "I'm here, bro. I'm not going anywhere," Mario croaked. The reassurance didn't seem to help as much as he'd hoped. Luigi's face still bore the weight of worry and fear. It was then when he noticed his brother's own state. His overalls were tattered, stained with blood that was a mixture of both Luigi's, and presumably his own.

"Luigi...I'm sorry. I couldn't..." Mario trailed off, unable to finish the thought. He felt a stab of guilt as he looked at his brother. They had been through so much together, survived countless battles against Bowser and his minions. But this time, he had failed. He had failed to protect him.

Luigi squeezed his hand, a saddened smile tugging at his features. "It's not your fault, Mario. You did everything you could. And you're here now, and that's what matters. We'll get through this together, just like we always do." His voice was steady, reassuring, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. There was still a lingering sadness there, a sense of loss that Mario could feel even from across the bed.

There was a small bout of tense silence between the two.

"I'm sorry," Mario whispered, his voice barely audible above the beeping of the heart monitor. "For everything. For not being there when you needed me. For not protecting you." He paused, swallowing thickly. "I promise I'll make it up to you, Luigi. I'll make sure nothing like this ever happens again."

His brother turned to him once again, taking note of the small tears that were forming at the corners of his eyes. "It's not your fault, Mario. You don't have to apologize for that. I know that you would have done everything in your power to protect me, just like I would have done the same for you. That's what we're here for, right? To look out for each other?" he asked hopefully, taking his brother's hand and placing it to his chest.

Mario sighed, retrieving his hand-- a strenuous task that shouldn't have hurt as much as it did.

"You're right, of course. I just...I don't want to see you hurt, bro. Not again. And I can't help but feel like it's all my fault..." He trailed off, his voice barely audible over the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.

"I couldn't protect you..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "Mario, I-"

"No, Luigi." He was immediately cut off by his brother, shaking his head slowly. "I'm supposed to be the hero, remember? You don't have to protect me. You're.." his face darkened. "You're not supposed to see me like this."

There was a tense silence in the room, only interrupted by the beeps of the heart monitor, mixed with the scruffing of feet beyond the door as nurses and doctors walked by, unaware of the turmoil within.

Luigi glanced towards his brother, who had now turned away, not-so-subtly (despite what he hoped,) brought a hand up to his face to wipe the tears that had gotten past his desperate attempt to hide them. The silence grew heavier, the air thick with the unspoken words of regret and pain that neither of them knew how to voice.

His eyes scanned the beat-up body of his brother. The bruises, the burns, the scars. They told a story of pain and struggle. Struggle that he didn't deserve. Struggle that he had to endure, just because he wanted to be a hero. He just couldn't realize that he was already a hero. To him, to Peach, to-- the entire mushroom kingdom, even!

The pain of seeing his brother like this was unbearable. The guilt was like a heavy stone in his stomach, pressing down on him. Luigi sighed, gently sitting down on the edge of the hospital bed, his eyes never leaving the broken body of his brother.

"Mario, listen." The words barely whispered from his lips, as if afraid to disturb the quiet ambience of the room that seemed to amplify the sorrow. Mario's chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, signaling that he was still there. Still fighting. Still holding on.

The soft sounds of sniffles betrayed Mario's attempt to ignore his brother, but Luigi already knew he was listening. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. 

"You are a hero, Mario. You always have been. And you always will be." His voice was a mix of sadness and admiration. "But you can't be the hero all the time. Sometimes, you need to let someone else save the day." He paused, his gaze never leaving Mario's. "And sometimes, you need to let yourself be saved." Mario's eyes remained closed, but a single tear trickled down his cheek. He knew his brother was right, but the weight of his own failure was too much to bear.

The room remained quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of the heart monitor. The air was thick with unspoken words and painful memories. Mario felt the weight of his brother's gaze and the unshed tears that clung to his eyelashes. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to face Luigi.

"I just-- don't want to lose you, Lui. You're all I have left, i-" Mario's voice broke off as he realized the gravity of his words. The room grew colder, and he felt a knot tighten in his chest.

Luigi's eyes grew misty, and he reached out to gently wipe the tear from his brother's cheek. "I know, brother, I know..."

He looked down, sighing before taking a thumb, gently brushing a tuft of his brother's tangled, bloodstained hair away from his face, giving him a gentle frown. "But you're losing yourself trying to save everyone else," he murmured, his eyes glistening. "We're a team, remember? And if you're not okay, then neither am I."

Mario's eyes fluttered open, meeting Luigi's concerned gaze. He couldn't bare seeing his brother like this, all hurt and in pain because of him. "L-Luigi, I'm so sorry," he managed to croak out. The words hung in the air, heavy with the burden of regret.

"Don't be, Mario," Luigi replied, his voice shaking slightly. "You've always been there for me, for everyone. It's my turn to be there for you now." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "We're going to get through this, I promise. We're going to get out of here, go back to the Mushroom Kingdom, and... and things will be like they used to be."

Mario nodded weakly, trying to believe the words that seemed too good to be true. The pain in his chest eased a bit, but the sadness remained. "What about Peach?" he asked, the question hanging in the air like a lead balloon.

Luigi swallowed hard, his grip on Mario's hand tightening.

"Peach..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "We'll save her too, I promise." The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with a grief that neither of them could fully express. "But right now, you need to focus on getting better. You're not going anywhere, okay?"

Mario nodded, his eyes fluttering closed again. The exhaustion was overwhelming, but he knew his brother was right. He had to get better, for both of them. For Peach. For the kingdom.

As if on cue, the door opened, and the sweet, soft voice of the princess sounded, not long after the clicking of her heels was heard in the room.

"M-Mario!" Peach's voice was filled with relief and joy, and her eyes sparkled with tears as she rushed to his side. Her eyes took in his condition, and the smile on her face faltered, but she didn't let the sadness linger.

Her dress swished as she leaned over him, her hands reaching for his. "You're awake!" she whispered, her eyes searching for any signs of pain or distress.

Mario forced a smile through the pain, squeezing her hands back. "Hey Peach," he managed to murmur.

Her touch was gentle, but it sent waves of warmth through his body, easing the ache in his heart a little. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I should have been there to help you both. I'm always getting myself into trouble, and I- i'm just so sorry..."

He could feel the regret and guilt in her voice, and he squeezed her hands tighter. "It's not your fault, Peach. It's never your fault."

The room grew quiet again, the only sounds the beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional sniffle from Peach as she held onto Mario's hand.

"You need to rest," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We'll figure out what to do next after you're stronger."

Mario nodded, feeling the weariness seep back into his bones. The pain was a constant reminder of what he had lost, but the warmth of Peach and Luigi's hands was a gentle promise of what was still there. As his eyes closed, he felt a soft kiss on his forehead. "Thank you," Peach murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "For always saving me." Mario's chest tightened, and he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. "Always," he promised, his voice barely a whisper. 

Luigi raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Always the hero, huh?" He tried to lighten the mood, but the sadness remained in his eyes. "You know, you can't save everyone, Mario. And that's okay."

Mario's eyes searched his brother's, looking for any sign of anger or resentment, but all he found was love and understanding. He nodded, feeling the weight of the words sink in. "I know," he murmured. "But I had to try."

Peach leaned in closer, her voice soothing as she stroked his hair. "You did try, Mario. And we're all so grateful for that."

The room grew still once more, each lost in their own thoughts. The heart monitor beeped a solemn tune, echoing the somber mood. Peach's hand remained on his forehead, her warmth seeping into his skin, and Luigi's hand remained steadfast in his.

Mario felt the warmth of Peach's hand leave his forehead as she stood up to give him space. He could feel her gaze lingering on him, filled with an intensity that spoke volumes of her love and concern. She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Rest now, my hero," she said softly.

She stood, before chuckling lightly again, going in to squeeze him once more.

The touch was warm, the comforting warmth of the touch began to get warmer, before it felt more like a burning sensation rather than an embrace.

Mario coughed, a warm liquid coming up and through his mouth.

Peach smiled, breaking apart from the hug and smiling, gently held her hero in her arms, her pink lipstick leaving a mark on his forehead.

The charred remains of his surroundings burned Mario's eyes as his eyelids trapped the ash between the two surfaces, allowing no possible chances for escape.

Mario's eyelids became half-lidded, causing Peach to giggle, placing another kiss to his cheek, her eyes sparkling with something other than tears. Genuine affection shone through her gaze, bringing a smile to her lips.

The burning metal of the chain that held her engagement ring seared his skin, as if trying to give him a message.

Peach played with his hair, running a hand through the tangled mess of fluffy brown hair.

His hair was charred, chunks of it falling down onto the ground.

She ran a thumb over his cheek, smiling softly as she caressed her boyfriend's features.

From his position slumped-over, his face touched the surface of the burning ground, the skin bonding with the rough surface of the pavement. He felt the intense heat, but no pain. 

He felt his body betraying him as his eyes began to close. Peach smiled, her eyes sparkling with something that wasn't just love anymore. The warmth of her hands grew hotter, the pain grew more intense, and the smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils.

She leaned down, giving him one last kiss to the forehead, and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. But Mario felt something was off, a sense of unease that grew as the warmth of her touch grew hotter. He tried to speak, but no words came out, only a hoarse gurgle.

The world around him grew hazy, colors fading into a stark white. He heard the fading echo of Peach's laughter, the sound of her heels clicking away, and then... nothing. The burning ceased, and a cold, numbing emptiness took its place.

Mario's eyes snapped open, the sterile hospital room fading back to the grim reality of the ruined city. The smell of burning flesh and the sight of his charred hair and skin were extremely real now, and it hurt.

He yelped, trying to sit up, but a searing pain shot through his body, and he collapsed back onto the ground, gasping for what little air he could get through his burnt throat.

The pain was excruciating. Mario didn't know what was worse--his burns or the realization that he had been hallucinating the memories of his last moments with his girlfriend and his brother.

The stark white of the room was replaced by the cold, harsh light of day, piercing through the smoke and ash outside the shattered window. The walls of the hospital room had crumbled around him, leaving only a skeletal frame to hint at what once was.

He coughed, and the sound was wet and painful. The air tasted metallic, and he could feel the grit of dust and debris in his teeth.

Mario's eyes darted around the room, looking for any signs of life, any hint of color in the monochrome landscape of ruin. But all he saw was the stark contrast of light and shadow, the remnants of what once was.

He tried to sit up again, and this time, he managed it, hissing through his teeth as pain shot through his body. His eyes fell on his bandaged hands, the fabric stained with the dark crimson of his own blood.

With trembling legs, he stood, each movement sending jolts of pain through his body. The world outside was a blur of rubble and ash, but he had to get out.

Moving slowly, Mario stepped over the debris, the remnants of the shop crunching under his boots. The town was a maze of destruction, many buildings barely standing, but he had to find a way out.

He stumbled through the wreckage, the stench of burning metal and plastic thick in the air. Every step sent sharp jolts of pain up his legs, but he pushed through it, driven by a fierce determination to escape this nightmare. The once-familiar streets of the Mushroom Kingdom were unrecognizable, twisted into a landscape of destruction that seemed to stretch on forever.

Mario's heart raced as he searched for any sign of his friends or enemies--- or any life at all. But all he found were shadows and echoes. The only sound was the distant wail of the wind, carrying with it the whispers of lost lives and shattered dreams.

He paused, leaning against a crumbling wall for support, and took a deep, ragged breath.

The silence was deafening, the only sound the distant rumble of something unidentifiable. It could have been the remains of the world settling, or something more sinister stalking him through the ruins.

He pushed himself away from the wall and continued his trek, his eyes searching the horizon for the telltale spires of the castle he knew would be there. The castle he had sworn to protect, the castle that had become a symbol of hope in the face of unspeakable evil.

The journey was arduous, his body protesting with every step, but he had to keep moving. 

Mario stumbled through the streets, his eyes scanning the horizon for the castle that had once been a bastion of hope. Now, it loomed over the city like a grim sentinel, a stark reminder of the fate that had befallen them all.

As he approached the castle gates, now twisted and melted, the sounds grew louder. The ground trembled beneath his feet, and the air grew thick with the acrid scent of something burning.

He forced his legs to move faster, ignoring the pain, driven by a primal instinct to find shelter and answers. The castle doors lay open, beckoning him into the bowels of the once-majestic fortress.

Inside, the grandeur of the castle was replaced by the horrors of battle. The walls were scarred by claw marks, the floor littered with the charred remains of his former enemies. The once-cheerful banners hung in tatters, the only color a sickly, charred black.

The castle was eerily quiet, the only sound of his own breathing echoing through the corridors. He moved carefully, his heart pounding in his chest. The rhythmic beats of his heart mixed with the sounds of his footsteps against the marble floors of the castle, creating a haunting melody of life amidst destruction.

Mario stumbled into what was once the grand hall, now a shell of its former self. The stained glass windows were shattered, casting shards of color across the floor that shimmered in the dim light. The throne, where Peach had once sat, was a blackened mess, the velvet cushions reduced to ashes.

He finally collapsed, the pain in his legs too much to bear.

The sight of the destruction brought back a flood of memories, memories of battles fought and friends lost. The echoes of their laughter and the warmth of their embraces seemed so distant now. He had failed them all.

Mario closed his eyes, and for a moment, he was back in the hospital room, the feeling of Luigi's hand in his.

Then, he was back in the fiery mess.

Once more, the familiar sight of the white hospital walls were seen, and the warmth of Peach's lips on his forehead was felt.

Yet, it was all just a memory, a flicker in the abyss of his consciousness that had been his reality moments ago. Mario's eyes snapped open, the starkness of the hospital room returning to the atmosphere of the destroyed castle, leaving him breathless and disoriented.

He mustered up the strength to lift his head, and glance up at the throne. The throne that he could’ve shared with Peach. The one where he would sit on, and rule over the kingdom that he loved so dearly.

Almost as dearly as how much he loved his brother, or better yet, his love. 

But alas-- Mario supposed that it was just a Lost Memory. 

╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯

I hope you all enjoyed the first part of my new fanfiction series: 'Memory Reboot'!!

This series is based off of VØJ & Narvent's Album: Memory Reboot (awesome instrumental pieces-- HIGHLY recommend you go check them out)

Anyways, thanks for reading and as always:

Have a lovely day!!

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

For the WIP game, do you have plans to add add any more to Outside the Lines from the Outside Chance universe? You single-handedly got me shipping Prim & Rye(n) hard b/c of this fic 😂 And from in progress, You + Me and/or The Cold Side of the Bed?

Alright, we'll cover all three. <3 Below the cut because it's a lot of text.

Friend. I am totally going to throw my beta under the bus on this one. PRIM AND RYEN WERE NEVER PLANNED. I was not gonna go there. Buttercupbadass, however, had other ideas. "Wouldn't it be funny if Prim's 'spa day' was her sneaking away to be with Ryen???" she asked. "Oh it's so cute she had a crush on him!" she says. "Screw it. I want them [Prim & Ryen] to get married," she puts in her edits/comments on ch 17 of Outside Chance, and not on a Prim and Ryen interaction even. That's what bba commented when Prim is saying goodbye to Eirik when she and Katniss are leaving Skaid after their summer visit!

Thus began an entire barrage of her reasoning, possible scenes and dialog, and then... THEN bba mentioned how funny it would be if Katniss accidentally saw a naked Ryen in the background of a Skype call one day and I lost it. So much of that story has roots in my personal life and well... so does that, unfortunately. But after that, the whole concept became too delicious for me to resist. And also, bba was right. They belong together.

I absolutely plan on adding more to Outside the Lines. At the moment, I feel the need to finish writing the next chapter of Outside Chance because that's the root story. I build Outside the Lines and Outside Expectations around what's in Outside Chance, and in a lot of ways, Otl and OC are kind of written simultaneously. So here's a snippet from the next chapter of Outside the Lines and lord help me if bba sees this, I won't hear the end of her prodding to get it done lol ;)

--

“So you’re the flavor of the week. Is there anything you can tell me about Ryen’s mental state going into this competition?”

“If I were really just the flavor of the week, why would you think I’d have any insight into his mental state?” I retort. There’s not much I remember about Agnes Mellark, other than a vague impression of cold aloofness. But how much of my idea of her has been stained by what Katniss and Ryen have told me about her? I don’t know.

I can’t even tell if she recognizes me right now. Maybe it’s too soon to play this hand, but I can’t resist. Maybe because it’s proof that I know Ryen far better than any of his previous flings. Maybe even better than the woman confronting me right now.

“Aren’t you his mother? You should have a better idea of his mental state than me,” I say with a smile. Really, I’d like to stab her in the jugular, but with what? Couldn’t smuggle in a knife, and am unfortunately not wearing my favorite four inch heels, which would be a perfect weapon.

Agnes purses her lips and her eyes wrinkle at the corners. Oh shit, I think and prepare to run, but she shakes her head and chuckles slightly.

“I wish I could say that my son were smart, but he usually thinks more with his dick than his brain,” she says and eyes me. “You’re every bit as beautiful as the others, but smarter, aren’t you?”

“I’d like to think I am,” I say.

“Good. Maybe you actually have a shot at getting him to commit, but don’t hold your breath for it. He won't admit it, but he needs someone with a brain to keep him in line, to challenge him and keep him from squandering his talent.”

“Multiple Olympic medals and world cup titles count as squandering his talents?” I ask. She takes a step back from me and I hold in my triumph that I got a response. 

“Maybe not, but his personal life is a mess. I just want to make sure you deserve him and treat him the way you should. Don’t be like that trash his younger brother keeps falling for.”

Oh no. She did not. Fuck this bitch. I don’t need a knife to destroy her.

"Oh you mean my sister?" I say with a wide smile and hold out my hand to her. "I guess you don't remember me. Primrose Everdeen."

**

You + Me is another one of my outstanding Everlark Fic Exchange prompts. This one is from 2019 (I think? *cringes in shame*), and was for either K or P as a romance novelist who secretly uses the other for inspiration in their writing. What happens when they find out?

This one has been super fun to write, if a little slow going, mainly because there are multiple moving pieces to it. Now for a snippet!

--

Katniss… we live together when we travel. I think I’m aware of all your annoying habits by now. ;)

And here I thought I was something of an enigma.

Nope. Open book to me.

Shit. 

Does he mean…?

My brain is scrambling, but I take a deep breath and manage to reign it in. He knows I’m a published writer. His words could merely be a reference to that. This can’t be good. Has he already figured it out?

Before I start plotting a heist to break into his house for a book burning party, I manage a decent, mostly innocuous text.

Hey what’s the title of the book you’re reading? Maybe I know it and can spoil the ending for you. ;)

Not on your life, Everdeen.

Just reached a plot twist in between your texting barrage. 

A delicious plot twist. ;)

Oh?

The hero is not who I was expecting. Dun duh dun!

The wheels squeal and I rush off the train as fear rises up in my throat. Oh god, he’s figured it out. What gave me away? The food porn passages, probably. He’s got to be reading The Thrill of the Hunt. That’s the only one I can think of where I pulled a bait and switch with the hero. 

The street is crowded and I have to tuck my phone in my pocket to navigate the crowds. When I get there, I’m still unable to answer him because even though I’m early to meet my editor, she’s ready for me.

“Katniss, darling! Welcome, welcome! Have a seat please. The cappuccino is fresh,” Effie trills as I’m ushered into her office and offered coffee.

Oh this cannot be good. Whenever Effie has liked my pages, she forgets her manners. Excitement precludes etiquette. But when a writer needs a kick to the creative pants… that’s when she’s the picture of perfect manners.

“That bad?” I ask when her assistant is finally gone, the door shut and a hot cappuccino gripped in my hands.

“They were...how to say this…?”

“Shit,” I supply and she scowls at my language.

**

And finally, since you asked about it, The Cold Side of the Bed was something I started for one of the "This Would Have Happened Anyway" challenges. I don't remember which one, only that the prompt was for Everlark in District 13. I never managed to finish it, in fact I've barely started it beyond a vague outline and the opening scenes, mainly because I was still finishing my degree at the time and pretty much would crash after finals then not be able to muster up the energy to write fanfic. But also because it kind of turned into an epic story. Short synopsis: Non-reaped Everlark winds up married to different people after their last reaping. The rebellion still happens and 12 is still bombed. Some of the story would be about them getting to 13, but the juicy stuff happens while they are in 13.

--

When I wake, the other side of the bed is cold. I reach out through the rough material, seeking a shred of the warmth that would exist if Primrose didn’t still climb into our mother’s bed after a nightmare. Not that I am surprised she had a nightmare last night. This is the day of the reaping, after all. I slowly lift my head to peer across the room at them. The three of them curled together for comfort. My mother, my sister who grows more achingly beautiful every day, and the ugliest yellow cat in the world. He sees me watching and hisses at me.

“Yeah, I know you’d be happy if they called my name today. Lucky for you, they just might.”

After all, my name is in the bowl 28 times today. I dress and join Gale in the woods, relaxing as I make my way through the thick summer foliage to our meeting place.

“How’re you planning on celebrating your freedom?” he asks as we make our way back towards the fence when we’re done hunting. It’s been a glorious day and we’ve got quite the haul. I’ll need the woods to keep providing like this in a few weeks. When the Games end this year, I start working in the mines.

I shudder slightly and give Gale a look. He just shakes his head and laughs. I don’t need to say it. It’s not exactly freedom, aging out of the reaping and into working down in those mines.

“You thought about what I said?”

“Gale,” I say and stop walking right before we reach the fence. He stops too and sighs, looks up at the sky. “I told you I can’t think about that right now. Not when Prim will still be—.”

“And I’ve got Rory still eligible and Posy about to start in a few years, but I’m still thinking about it. How’d you explain that? How about Nathan Dawson and Lilah Bronski? They’ve already decided they’re getting married some time after the reaping if they both make it through. Lots of people think about it, Catnip, and lots of people do it.”

“Well lots of people are stupid then,” I snap and Gale sighs.

“Alright look, just forget I said anything. Let’s go make our trades before we make you late.”

[chicxxonaa]

Have some Zelink fluff(?) hehehe

(slight spoilers for ToTk)

“Are we soulmates in every universe?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

I lost you again, Zelda.

…

After a hundred years in deep sleep.

Not even feeling a wake of consciousness.

The world I knew was overruled by nature.

The places I knew before were not the same.

The homes I’ve seen, destroyed, different.

The people are different. They don’t know me.

No one that I knew was here.

There’s Impa, and her clan.

The people of Hateno. The Rito. The Gerudo.

The Zoras and the Gorons.

Travelers, merchants, good people.

But no one that I knew.

Revali, Daruk, Mipha, Urbosa. The king.

They were gone.

You were gone.

But not anymore.

…

It’s been a peaceful three years.

Slowly, everything has been restored in new ways I couldn’t imagine.

The people love you. Their Princess.

I was anxious, scared actually. Of placing you in the position of Princess. A leader. You must’ve been so tired, so much energy, and time keeping the evil at bay.

I didn’t want to put you in a place where you’d have to stretch yourself thin anymore than you were.

But, the one lesson I always seem to forget that you have taught me time and time again, is to never underestimate you.

You placed yourself in that role you swore you could never uphold. And you became the person who brought up the whole kingdom out of such a dark rule.

And I followed in return. I’ll always follow you.

I’m your knight.

I’m the one who will follow you to every house, every village, every forest, every mountain, every desert, every corner of Hyrule. I will follow you, protect you, watch you and let you know you’re not alone.

You were never alone.

You’re never alone when we are exploring a large and dark cave, knowing danger lurks inside.

You’re never alone in the places you loved to travel to, to discover, for research or to simply to gaze upon and admire.

You’re never alone on nights when you couldn’t sleep because of the nightmares you’d have of that fateful day. And it was hard for you to go back to sleep.

Because I will be there.

With either a weapon in my hand, or my arms open for embrace. I will be there for you.

…

The night before we began our exploration under the castle rubble, our supplies were packed, and all of our equipment was ready for the day to come. You slept next to me, a gentle hum of your voice every time you’d gently breathe. You were asleep, but I couldn’t close my eyes again.

I had a dream.

I saw you, and I saw myself.

But we looked different.

First you and I were on large birds, in the sky.

Soaring without care in the world.

And then we were young, in a castle. You gave me such an odd instrument. But it played beautiful music

Then we changed again. We were at sea. What a vast sea it was.

Then we were under a blanket of twilight, only to be pierced by your light.

We changed again, and again, and again.

…

I understand now.

This life, our life, is a cycle.

That you and I are doomed to repeat over and over again.

To stop a malefic doom that none of us conjured.

We are here, together, because we don’t have a choice.

But I don’t care.

I don’t care if I die, and come back once again as the hero.

I don’t care that I’m linked to this chain of a spiral that will not cease due to a curse that has been placed thousands upon thousands, upon thousands of years ago.

I don’t care, because you’re here.

We don’t have a choice, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

In all of the lives we’ve lived together, you were happy with me. You smiled at me. In every version of you, your gracious smile never changed.

And my love for you, never changed.

It’s a curse I’m happy to carry, as long as you’re with me.

A curse that has blessed me beyond measure.

…

Now we are separated again, you’re in a place I can’t reach you yet.

I only see your figure above so distantly. You’ve become a part of the sky. Your tears hitting the earth. Staining the land with your memories. You must feel so alone…I’m so sorry.

I lost you again, Zelda. And I’m so sorry.

But, I will be with you again. No matter what it takes.

You’re meant to be with me. My silent princess, my Zelda.

I will always save you.

Until the ends of eternity.

…

[unendingwanderlust]

A cute, fluffy little something for OCKissWeek and Femslash February featuring two of my favorite old ladies (though in this story they're just babies). Enjoy!

TITLE: Sunrise RATING: G WARNINGS: None. RELATIONSHIPS: Eregil/Carlaerneth (OFC x OFC) WORD COUNT: 760 SERIES: A World Of Our Own

SUMMARY: Watching the sunrise in the woods outside of Menegroth should be pretty uneventful.

Unless one is in love with her childhood best friend, that is…

READ ON AO3 or below:

Although the two cousins snuck out of Menegroth together so as to watch the sunrise bathe the holly forest of Region gold, somewhere along the way Eregil lost Lúthien. If she had to guess, the princess was with Daeron in the woods, dancing to the melody of his flute.

Not that it mattered much, as Doriath was the safest realm on Middle Earth. No harm would come to either of them as long as they stayed within its borders, in the cozy protection of the queen’s girdle. Besides, Eregil had something else in mind; specifically, someone else.

Calaerneth waited at their usual rendezvous spot at the glade, brown hair braided with the wildflowers that blossomed in spring. A covered basket rested next to her, and the skirts of her light green dress pooled around her. “You made it.”

Eregil had worn navy blue so that no one would notice the grass stains and inquire. She joined Calaerneth on the ground. “Of course I would.”

Calaerneth raised the cloth that covered her basket. “I picked mushrooms. Perhaps I could make soup for you tonight, for dinner? I promise, these mushrooms will not give you strange visions. This time, I checked my book twice!”

Eregil chuckled. “Unfortunately, I cannot. Uncle Thingol finds it very important that the whole family dines together every night.”

Calaerneth tried to control her disappointment so that it would not show in her face- and failed.

“But he never said anything about lunch,” Eregil said. “Would that be acceptable instead?”

Calaerneth grinned and nodded. “Yes! That would be great!”

A deep blue overtook the sky just before the sun would appear. The forest around them was still and peaceful, its little critters slumbering inside tree trunks or among leaves.

Eregil yearned to hold Calaerneth’s hand, to lace their fingers together and never let go. They used to do that as elflings, but then adolescence had come, and it had added new meaning to each gesture that they dared not explore. How could they, when one was royalty and the other a lowborn? Even if Calaerneth’s status was ignored, the fact that their marriage would be a fruitless one would never be. It was Eregil’s duty to the Crown to continue the bloodline eventually.

The fierce glow of the sun rose between the trees as the clouds lazily rolled by in the spring breeze. The world transformed from cold and blue into golden and gentle.

Calaerneth fiddled with her dress, her hands, even the grass. She cleared her throat. “You know, according to the texts, the sun is a new invention. There was a time when there was no moon either. When Morgoth and Ungoliant destroyed the Two Trees, Telperion the Silver and Laurelin the Gold, Arda was plunged into complete darkness…”

The sunlight danced in Calaerneth’s eyes, one brown and one blue, and oh, Eregil was in so much trouble!

“…but through the combined power of Yavanna and Varda, Laurelin produced a single fiery fruit before it died, which the Great Smith Aulë-”

Eregil leaned forward and pressed their mouths together, silencing the rest of the speech-length sentence.

They had kissed before when they were elflings: innocent little pecks on the cheek, forehead, or mouth. It was a gesture of affection between two best friends who had grown up together and nothing more. However, something about their current kiss was far more serious, as if the brief contact of their lips had birthed a whole new universe within Eregil.

When Eregil pulled back, her heart pounded. “I am sorry, I interrup-”

A gentle hand grasped her jaw and then they were kissing again, slow and passionate in the golden sunlight.

They only paused for breath, but something caught Calaerneth’s attention. She was looking at a spot over Eregil’s shoulder, eyes wide as a doe’s.

“Let me guess,” Eregil sighed. “Lúthien is right behind me…”

“Yes.” Lúthien crossed her arms and tried to assume a stern look, but the mirth that danced in her eyes betrayed that she was seconds away from a giggling fit. “I apologize for ruining your attentive sunrise-watching, but we must head back before ada realizes that we are gone.”

With a grumble of words extremely unsuitable for royalty, Eregil rose to her feet. She helped Calaerneth up and tucked a stray strand of brown hair behind her pointed ear.

“I will see you at lunch?” Calaerneth asked.

“Of course.” Eregil pecked her lips, followed her cousin down the path that led to the city, and braced herself for the merciless teasing that would follow…

[evilasiangenius]

The Fall

“Out.”

And when Her voice reverberated throughout Heaven as if a bell struck, the War in Heaven was over, the cries of damaged and destroyed angels were silenced, and the marked angel, the tall one with the long dark curling hair and the good cheekbones felt existence suddenly shift around wings and shoulders and legs and elbows and knees and suddenly everything was falling.

No, it wasn’t falling.

They were being pushed out.

A harsh downward pressure and the angel could not even scream at the brief fierce pain of being thrust out of Heaven and in that moment something important happened; identity snapped and shattered, brittle, disappearing into the ether. The name that the Creator had vested in this angel was gone, ripped away with everything else and the angel was left as something partially blank, empty, memories torn and broken. Despite that, the angel clung to the snatches of things that could be remembered; a stolen conversation, a voice raised in song, the warm light of Heaven, and most importantly, that deep sense of quiet profound intimacy that Heaven had always represented, until it did not.

With great effort the angel struggled to turn around, arms and wings and legs fighting against the fierce pressure forcing the angel away from the bright light above. Turning to catch a glimpse of a home that began to disappear quickly, the angel kept golden eyes fixed upward but that point of light, gorgeous and shimmering and orderly, stayed for a long time within sight as the angel fell and at that moment, as the lovely dreamy glimmering light slowly disappeared from view, the angel knew that there was a reason as to why the Creator had wanted them to see Heaven for so long, just out of reach.

Punishment.

Time didn’t matter much in Heaven, and it mattered even less here.

Blackness punctuated by starlight, blues and reds and gold and it was so beautiful that the angel saw nothing but those streaks of light, even as there was no longer any way to see that true light, the bright soft glow of a home that was so distant now that there was no point in trying to look for it anymore.

It had been a long time since the angel tried to struggle against the inexorable, unrelenting force that pushed downwards. There was nothing to do now but feel the fierce cutting stellar wind through huddled white wings that shielded the angel from the worst of it, taste the grains of stardust that floated through space, see the distant fires of burning stars that flickered by, brief splotches of light staining the darkness with their warmth.

As if a massive invisible hand crushing them flat, there was no way to fly up, no way to break away, to break free.

All around were the sounds of screams, of cries, anger and begging, pitiful wailing as other falling angels struggled in their own torments but the angel was quiet. The time for begging had long passed; from here there was only aching loneliness, the emptiness of being torn away from the close intimacy of Heaven, the fellowship of its innumerable angels.

Then again, it was already like that long before the Fall, when they had been made individual, when they had been given these things called bodies instead of just existing as an amorphous blob of spirit. Heaven had already become a lonely empty place; this just capped off what was already unpleasant, pushing an already unhappy situation into something terrible beyond endurance.

The angel could not even sigh anymore. The tears that had filled golden eyes were long since gone, dried up to nothing. Now it was just a matter of existing, and it was not much of an existence, falling through the great span of darkness through the universe, passing galaxies and nebulae (or was it nebulas?) at a speed so great that it was impossible to tell which ones the angel had even worked on.

Perhaps it would have been best to have never existed.

*****

Ages and eons passed alone, and the angel wondered; if the Creator could see them now, if the Creator were watching, did they look like stars themselves, falling in great trails of blazing light? Or were they more like rocky asteroids, tumbling through the darkness on a tilted orbit askew?

A million light years and maybe a million more, the angel thought absently, even as there was no way to gauge how far or how long they had been falling, pushed down by the force of the Almighty Lord.

There was nothing to hope for nothing to do but to patiently wait for destruction. Surely this had to end in destruction. After all, in that first, painful push out of Heaven, even the angel’s name had been torn away, broken and destroyed, lost. It followed that the rest would follow in kind; ripped up into tatters, white feathers scattering like stars in the endless night of space.

Somewhere above the angel, a strange light streaked in an irregular way, moving from one falling figure to another, and the angel watched it idly, wondering what kind of star it could have been to move in such an unusual way.

And then, the star came down to the angel.

“Are you all right?”

Surprised, the angel could not speak; no one had addressed the angel in so long that the angel could hardly remember being spoken to, much less how to move one’s mouth in the motion of speech. There had been no one to talk to; the pressure had been so intense that the angel could hardly move to turn around, and here was an Archangel, flying about as free as a wandering comet and the angel felt such a sharp twinge of longing, of hot jealousy and envy, that it was almost painful.

“You’re…” the word came out as a harsh croak.

“Asmodeus,” the golden-haired angel managed a little smile, a polite and dignified expression turned awkward and uncomfortable by the circumstances. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“A shame that I never gave it to you,” the nameless angel said, voice a creaky unused whisper. “I don’t have it anymore to give.”

“Oh.” Asmodeus was taken aback. “I’m sorry to hear that. Unfortunately you’re not the only one. Most everyone has lost their names. I’m not sure why I still have mine.”

“Probably the same reason you can fly about. I can hardly move.” And the fear that had been long silenced by acclimatization came back suddenly and tears filled the angel’s eyes, tears that the angel had not thought possible returned.

“Yes. I suppose I was created to be more powerful. Please don’t cry.” Asmodeus reached out to brush away a trickling tear, and the angel was startled by the touch, at the hint of warmth in those long beautiful fingers. “I’m doing my best here to help everyone. But there’s not much I can do…”

“Yeah. I don’t think there’s anything to do but wait and see what She decides for us. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay. Someone else will need you more than me,” the angel wiped away those tears as best as possible, watching little droplets of water float away, salt-stained jewels freezing and disappearing into the icy void of space.

“Hang in there. I’ll be back, when I can. If I can,” Asmodeus said, correcting himself. “No promises, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” the angel said. “We’re all sorry. We’ll all be sorry forever. That’s the point.”

*****

If there was a home, if there had ever been a home, the angel was beginning to doubt that it had ever been real. The only existence there was now was falling, and it felt like it had gone on so long that whatever had happened before might as well have never existed.

The angel thought once more that perhaps it would be better to turn to face the Fall. To see where they were going, if there was a destination. The angel had turned a few times, but had seen nothing through the streaking darkness that went on for eons.

Long dark hair tangling about a pale face scowling from the effort, the angel turned around.

Faintly, a light glowed in the distance, and the angel’s eyes narrowed, wondering what it was.

But it did not take very long for the light to resolve itself into something more clear.

Eyes widening, the angel realized that the distant destination that they were being pushed toward was filled with fire.

A massive wall of fire and through it, glimpses of lakes of molten sulphur, lava hot and boiling in the distance that drew closer with every heartbeat.

A gasp, and pale wings beat frantically, trying to fly away and if not that to at least slow down but the pressure behind the angel that had never relented was brutal, inexorable, a terrible reminder of the futility of struggle. All around the screaming grew louder, some of the cries were cut horribly short as distant figures began to fall into the boiling lava and the angel recoiled.

“It’s all right! I have you!”

Strong hands closed about the angel’s shoulders and the angel turned back, surprised, hair tangled in a sinuous knot by the sharp cutting winds.

That Archangel again, golden hair blazing about his head like a crimson-stained halo from where the glowing fires reflected and the angel wondered why Asmodeus had been marked. He wasn’t one of the Archangels at the center of the rebellion. He didn’t even know Lucifer that well. He just had some questions too.

Maybe that’s all it took.

“What’s your name, Angel?”

“I don’t know,” the nameless angel whispered, wondering if the Archangel had even remembered that they had already talked about this, given the numerous other angels he must have already met. “I don’t have one anymore.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you. Not fair to anyone. I can’t save everyone. I tried, but it’s impossible. There are too many. Millions and millions. I went around to everyone I could, but I can’t fly up, not very far. Not enough to return any one of us to Heaven, not even myself. Maybe I can’t save everyone, but I can save you.” Massive white wings moved quick and for a brief moment the angel wondered how it was possible that anyone could move like this, so easily through the unrelenting pressure of the Fall. Asmodeus took the angel into his arms, the angel’s head tucked beneath his chin. The shock of touch sent a jolt through the angel and the angel clung to Asmodeus’s arms, his hands. Those great white wings turned both of them in a sharp motion so that Asmodeus’ back was to the flames.

“Why me?” the angel gasped, as they turned away from the growing flames. But Asmodeus did not answer, tightening his arms and his wings around the angel, whose own wings were bent inwards as well.

“Why me and not someone else?”

And the last thing that the angel remembered seeing before they hit the molten stone was the white of Asmodeus’ wings closing around them protective, the faintly translucent feathers stained a rippling yellow and red with the light of the flames.

“No…!” the angel cried, clutching the Archangel’s hands, feeling the hard biting edge of the golden crown of the Archangel’s cold ring press against the tender center of a tight-clutched palm as they fell into the flames.

x

[olet-lucernam]

A Hollow Promise [15] chapter iii, part iii

{_[on AO3]_}

main tags : loki x original character, post-avengers 2012, canon divergence - post-thor: the dark world, canon-typical violence, mentions of torture

-

summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of New York, the Avengers need a few days to build a transport device for the Tesseract. With the Helicarrier damaged and surveillance offline, SHIELD sends an asset to guard Loki in the interim: a young woman who sees the truth in all things, and cannot lie.

Even long presumed dead, her memories lost to her, Loki would know her anywhere.

And this changes things.

Some things last beyond infinity. And the universe is in love with chaos.

(Loki was never looking for redemption. It came as an unexpected side-effect.)

-

chapter summary : loki's return to asgard becomes imminent, and his guard shows her hand.

recommended listening : i hear a symphony, cody fry

-

[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

-

It couldn’t last.

“Alethia, this is Agent Chen of Alpha Team. Do you copy?”

The cool monotone echoed faintly from her earpiece, just barely audible in the quiet.

Even if he had missed it- the sound swallowed by a stray clank of metal, or a quipped line of a dialogue from one of his illusions, or her sunburst laughter at the tale he was recreating for her- Loki would have still known what was happening, solely by the way her entire demeanour shifted.

Before the transmission had even finished, she had summoned up that air of impenetrable, unintimidated grace from their first encounter- relaxed and open and tauntingly arcane, with a stillness that bled defiance. It was the only armour that her honesty would allow, tempered magnificently from the practice.

Loki wondered if he should have set aside some time to destroy SHIELD, while he was on Midgard.

As though hearing the thought cross his mind, she met Loki’s eyes as she touched two fingers against the earpiece, the faint blue activation light staining her fingerprints, her brow arched.

Smirking lightly, Loki dismissed his illusions- the image of himself and his brother, playing out an incident from a few centuries past involving the theft of Mjolnir and one of their mother’s finest gowns- with a twist of his fingers, their forms dissolving into a shimmer of gold underlaid with emerald.

The light-show distracted from the faint ripple of dispersing magic, as the spell screening their mouths fell away.

They were monitoring the cameras- so her words through the audio link would have to synchronise with the video feed. After all, if SHIELD suspected her of colluding with him, even out of mutual dislike for a third party, her every move after his departure would be that much more scrutinised, and restricted. They had to appear as mere captive and guard, little more than indifferent amusements to each other.

The lie would protect her. Loki would make it convincing for her, crafting the deception that she could only foster by implication.

She spoke into the connection, smooth and crystalline as looking-glass.

“This is Alethia. I copy.”

“The device is almost ready,” the agent replied. “Orders are to prepare the prisoner for transfer, then report to the lab to review Stark and Banner’s work. Make corrections to the design if necessary. Debrief at the bridge. We’ll feed you the security code for the cell, so report when position.”

“Copy. Wilco.”

A disquiet pressed into her expression as her hand dropped from the device.

“Is it time?”

Loki’s question was gentle, and completely rhetorical.

Barton could read the words, but tone would be more difficult to detect.

She drew her lower lip into her mouth, biting down. Her gaze flicked aside, scanning the chamber- as though in one last desperate search for another way out, all while accepting the futility of it- before snagging on the bed still arrayed at the front of the cell.

“You should probably- revert that,” she said by way of a response, staring blandly at the mass of cotton and silks.

Loki tilted his head at her.

“Could you not keep it?”

Her mouth curved bitterly. “SHIELD would only confiscate it. To perform tests.”

So don’t give those bastards anything.

Canting his head in wordless agreement, Loki gave a clean upsweep of his hand.

A barb of mana loosened the transformation that he had secured into the bed, strong as a running stitch, and as easily ruined as a single snipped thread. The spell would hold- for now- but the slightest disturbance would have it unravelling.

Loki felt his breathing clear with the familiar sensation of satisfaction, of a spell sealed into place, of a problem resolved and a trick played to perfection.

“It will dissolve into its original state the moment they touch it.”

The corners of her mouth twitched, a glint of amusement- trickster, the word gathered silently in the curve of her lower lip- but her eyes remained vacant, a malcontent in her that Loki couldn’t distract or cure.

Loki exhaled quietly.

“Come here, darling.”

Her expression softened by a few precious degrees, gently breaking, like Castille soap shredding into flakes beneath the press of a thumb.

In an unbroken, unhurried motion, she reached for the armoured case beneath the terminal. Taking it by the handle and sliding it out, she straightened, pulling her shoulders back like unfurling wings.

Descending from the front walkway, she rounded the cell, climbing the steps to the sealed door with a few light strides. Loki turned with her, circling smoothly as the dial of a compass.

On the cameras, the action would look predatory.

Loki would call it baiting.

Once they were aligned- her figure set within the frame of the sealed door, Loki carefully positioned at the centre of the cell- she caught his gaze.

Loki felt as though he had swallowed a cupful of firelight, his heart thundering with anticipation, pressing at his ribs.

Come here, come here, come here, come here-

She smiled faintly, the slightest tremble in her hand as she tapped her earpiece.

“Alethia to Alpha Team. In position.”

“Copy. Relaying security code.”

The keypad chirped under her touch, as she deftly entered the meaningless chain of numbers supplied through the link, her gaze darting between Loki and the keypad before her.

With an assenting trill, the door unlocked.

Loki heard the bolt release, ejected from the magnetised latch. The hyperbaric chamber unsealed with a hiss of pressurised air, the door retracting from its moorings on fluid hydraulics.

The final barrier between them slid aside.

It felt oddly unceremonious.

She entered the capsule of the cell, like stepping out onto on river ice.

As soon as she was clear of the doorway, the panel closed behind her, relocking with a whisk of cold air.

The moment held like a breath.

Loki found himself acclimatising to her presence. Without the gloss of the translucent walls, rendering her a convincing illusion in the vein of Pepper’s Ghost, she was abruptly flesh and bone- viscerally real, living flesh, warm and breakable as her heart in his hand.

They were breathing the same air. It would take barely a few short, brisk steps to have her pressed against him-

The ensuing realisation was a slow flush of rage, blossoming like blood from an open wound.

They had locked her in with him.

Alone, unarmed, unprotected.

And she didn’t even seem surprised.

She moved forward, curving into an orbit around him, until she stood at the front of the cell, a few scarce feet from him. She set the armoured case down and, on the upswing as she straightened, Loki caught a faint sillage from the sweep of her hair.

Morning air. Hot metal. Vanilla.

Loki didn’t know whether he wanted to scream, or laugh.

After all this time, it was still the same- the clean coolness of open skies, the coppery tang of her mana, the richness and warmth that seemed to be hers-

“They sent you in alone,” he said, low and lethal.

Pushing back her hair, she met his eyes, head tilted back just enough.

He felt the wisp of her exhale.

“Yes.”

For the benefit of their audience, Loki gave a quiet, sinister laugh.

Gazing down at her through his lashes, he lifted a hand, grazing his fingertips across her wrist, tracing the stitching of her cuff.

He felt a flutter of involuntary motion, glancing to the unassuming point of contact.

His fingers were bright as ivory against the navy leather, tantalising close to the gold of her hand.

Swallowing against the temptation, Loki slowly turned his wrist- dragging a single digit up the curve of her arm, achingly unhurried. His knuckles grazed its wake as the angle shifted, applying only the lightest pressure, so that she would barely feel it through the thick sleeve.

A crease appeared her lower lip, the swell of flesh flattening as she caught the delicate inner flesh between her teeth, watching his face intently.

Loki paused at her shoulder, at the juncture where he could feel the ridge of her clavicle.

The heat of her skin radiated into him, her breaths pressing his touch closer with each inhalation.

His hand trailed up just a little further, along the crook of her neck to the seam of her collar, lingering just beneath her ear.

“Sweet thing,” he breathed, soft and dark as sin.

He felt her shiver- before it melted through her, a shatter of sparks merging into poured light. She released her lower lip, the abused flesh blushing darkly.

Control faltering, Loki curved his finger beneath the hinge of her jaw, slotting into place.

Her pulse pressed into his touch, tender, alive- and gloriously warm, enough that he wanted to sink into her like a freshly run bath.

It was, perhaps, the closest that Loki had ever come to tasting enough, to wanting nothing more, nothing else besides.

There was nothing more insidious than satisfaction, and the complacency it invited.

He slid his finger along her jaw firmly, forcing her head upwards, until it was hooked just beneath her chin, tipping her head back to meet his gaze fully. Her throat was bared in a long, strained, elegant curve through the open collar of the jumpsuit.

Her eyebrow twitched, infinitesimally, challengingly.

Loki wrapped his hand around her throat and- with a few swift steps- drove her up against the glass of the cell.

The heavy pane, strong enough to withstand a direct blow from Mjolnir, held firm. She barely flinched under his grip, caught beneath him like prey after a long chase.

“I could kill you here and now,” he gritted out, crowding over her and forcing her up onto the balls of her feet, balanced precariously. The ridged cartilage of her larynx flexed under his palm, the rise of her chest pressing into the heel of his hand through his vambrace- her breathing heightened, but astoundingly even, unpanicked. “I could snap your throat with a flick of my hand. Are they so confident I won’t harm you?”

She gave a steady blink.

“I told you the first time,” she said, enunciation slightly strained by the angle and pressure on her vocal cords, “that they are not particularly concerned.”

Abruptly, Loki understood the flatness in her tone, whenever she referenced her place within SHIELD.

It was a disaffected, almost laughing resignation, at knowing that she was considered disposable- and choosing indifference in response, rendering them irrelevant.

Still holding her in place by her throat, Loki leaned in- eliciting the quietest noise from the back of her throat as he pressed a thigh between hers, slotting them together in a frightening flash of intimacy- and slid his free hand to hers, raising and pinning her wrist above her head, against the glass.

His index finger pressed into the well of her palm like a nail, and her own fingers curled in loosely, grazing his knuckle in a caress.

From this angle, their mouths would be blocked to the cameras.

“Has it occurred to you, beloved,” Loki said softly, “that you would be happier without me?”

A look of wry amusement glowed through her.

“Happiness is transient,” she told him, each word rolling from her lips like droplets of pearlescent blood. “I want to feel alive.”

Loki tightened his fingers around her neck, blunt and testing.

She smiled darkly, undaunted.

Her affection was ruthless, Loki realised, in the truest sense of the word. It cut through everything superfluous with a clean efficiency, unhindered and unhesitating, twisting around obstructions and hindrances to secure firmly into place. It was a malleable absolute, both the origin and the destination, consuming and limitless.

Loki felt her thigh brush against his, a skim of contact through layers of leather, as she rose up an inch, balancing on one arched foot, pressing into him as much as his hand shackled around her neck would permit.

“Do you trust me?”

It was an absurd question.

Something of his reaction must have shown in him, like a shadow flickering through water, because Loki felt the short hum of a low, sweet laugh beneath his hand, the note reverberating like a purr.

She lifted a single hand, gliding over his breastplate until it rested flush against his heart.

Loki felt her mana gather, pooling on her tongue, before she spun the first line of spellsong.

The first taste of her magic seeped through his chest, warm as wine.

“I used to hear a simple song That was, until you came along-”

As the invocation solidified, gathering purpose and intent, Loki felt it course through his bloodstream, filtering into his capillaries.

Her magic luxuriated as it sank into his flesh, spreading like wings and swirling slow like steam from bathing, still closer to unrefined mana than the resultant spellwork. It was like fire-warmed hands gliding up and across his clavicle, wrapping around his ribs to the plane of his back, flush against the fuller of his spine.

“- something new I hear it when I look at you-”

He felt her press past the edge of his psyche.

Loki panicked.

His mind thrashed against the intrusion- his mental shields less like layered walls and ramparts, and closer to a living, ever-shifting labyrinth that would turn a trespasser back upon themselves- but she navigated them deftly, threading through like sunbeams, and Loki didn’t know how to stop her before-

“- wanted more Perfection is so quick to bore-”

Loki felt something displace in him- a strangely formed thought, like a shadow cast from an angle that didn’t quite make sense- you see, she’s the enemy, she lied to you, betrayed you, deceived you like all the others, how dare she, traitor, faithless, hurt her-

- no, that made no sense-

- but why would it not make sense, this was his mind, his thoughts, why would he not think that-

“- are more beautiful by far Our flaws are who we really are-”

Her magic burned, and Loki felt the strange thought begin to pull away from the surface of his mind, like a thick viscous tar being stripped from glass- its opacity pasted over a painful clarity, gumming together disparate fragments of memory and emotion to create a new image, a false mosaic-

That thought does not belong to me. It’s not real-

Loki darted in, seizing hold of the lie, trapping it in his awareness.

Her mana swept in, cremating it in a merciless, glorious flash, until it wisped away harmlessly like smoke.

Oh, Loki thought.

“- used to hear a simple song-”

It was a baptism by fire, disinfection by sunlight, scouring away the remnants of what the Black Order had set into him, splitting away and slaughtering whatever had survived his own purge. Her magic chased through him like wrought flame, killing each lie, and soothing the lingering pain left behind- bathing him in gold until her mana soaked into his bones, his own depleted reservoir brimming over and spilling like mead from a banquet cup.

“- you took my broken melody And now I hear a symphony-”

Loki hadn’t even realised how low the reserves of his magical core were, until she was pouring her own into him. He could feel a host of old injuries drinking her mana in, healing- bruised ribs, fractured bones, torn ligaments- the pain he had ceased noticing evaporating.

Steadily, the spell crystallised into him- and her magic pulled away, sealing the last of the breach like marble, glancing and sure as a kiss to the cheek.

“And now I hear A symphony…”

Loki opened his eyes- unaware that he had even closed them- just in time to see a sheen of gold drain away into her pupil, ebbing to the muted hazel.

She was breathing heavily, a triumphant smile painting her lips, fingertips pressing into his armour, as though trying to sink into the leather and pull him closer.

“Let them try to touch you again,” she breathed, faintly delirious, her grin sharp with a vicious mirth. “I dare them to try.”

Loki felt himself trembling faintly in the afterglow.

His hand smoothed down her neck, stroking into the hollow of her throat. The other still held her wrist, stretching her arm above her head, until she was almost lounging back beneath him.

He tried not to think about how easy it would be to lean down and kiss her.

“That was a risk, darling,” he told her quietly. “If SHIELD saw anything-”

She laughed prettily, euphoric and bright as the stars shattering together, her pale curls rumpling as her head dropped forwards slightly.

“I really don’t care,” she admitted blithely. “Not anymore.”

Loki exhaled an exasperated laugh. She was always at her most dangerous when she took a dose of his chaos.

“My heart,” he murmured, fond and quietly desperate, “my Astra-”

Her head whipped up, almost cracking the back of her head against the glass.

“What.”

She stared up at him, perfectly still, intense as the sun held arrested- and taken truly off guard for the first time in his presence.

“You-” she faltered, “what did you- it’s you. You’re the one who- you’re the only one who-”

It was as though something had snapped inside her, a support strut unexpectedly failing.

Loki sank in towards her, to hold her together, to seal her against him until she stabilised.

“Astr-”

“Loki.”

He halted.

Names had power. And this was the first time she had called his name- no titles to qualify it.

“Ald-” She choked, eyes pressing shut against it, as though the air had been punched out of her chest. “Alderliefest-”

Loki crushed down a whimper at the endearment- dearest of all, most beloved- and the way it was spoken, broken plea and a summons, a true cri de coeur.

Her nails scraped against his chest, the beds turning white at the desperate grip.

“My infinity-”

Loki jolted forwards a few treacherous inches.

Her eyes snapped open, saturating with a bloom of colour that he remembered, that had been drained out of her to create something nondescript and mortal.

Her irises turned richer, darkening, gaining depth, sparkling as though capturing drifting flecks of gold leaf- the effect celestial, and the resultant colour borrowed to create pieces of sea-smoothed Baltic amber, and the basin of a sunset, and the gashes of fire in the stones of the famed Brísingamen in his mother’s jewellery case-

The gold burned up through the hazel, like rice paper catching flame-

- and she shrieked in pain.

-

[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

[xcvrnage]

     𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟⧸𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑒 :   artemisia   ››   high warlock   ››  anya chalotra  .

❛❛   aesthetic.  ❜❜   ⸻   ◜   ❏  . ⸻ black cat curled up on a pillow of her bed , blood stained dress , silky robes , her bones knowing something wonderful about the darkness , rotting fruit between manicured fingers . ―   ◜   ❏  . ―  →

𝐈 . . . 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

⸻ ◜   ❏  . ⸻ ⚔ ⸻ ( anya chalotra → cis woman → she/her ) / / * seems like artemisia , crossed the city limits into rome : you know , the twenty-eight / unknown year old warlock , who is reputed to be calculative and strategic , but is avoided when they are apathetic and untrustworthy . that would explain why they want to destroy the mortal instruments . * / /

𝐈𝐈 . . . 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

name . . . . artemisia

nicknames . . . . sia ( only those she is close to can call her that )

age . . . . 28 / unknown

sexuality . . . . pansexual

date of birth . . . . unknown

place of birth . . . unknown

gender . . . . cis woman

pronouns . . . . she + her

current location . . . . london , UK

languages . . . . universal .

𝐈𝐈𝐈 . . . 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 !

zodiac . . . . unknown

bad habits . . . . losing her temper

hobbies . . . . reading , coming up with new spells

fears . . . . unknown

other mentionable details . . . . it's important to note that artemisia is one of the oldest warlock .

𝐈𝐕 . . . 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 !

faceclaim . . . . anya chalotra

height . . . . 5'6''

hair color . . . . black

eye color . . . . purple

notable features . . . . her purple eyes and pointed ears .

𝐕 . . . 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

parents names . . . . unknown

siblings . . . . n/a

pets . . . . a black cat

income . . . endless

residence . . . . a luxury penthouse

𝐕𝐈 . . . 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 !

⸻ not much is known about the warlock other than, she was born in ancient Greece, she is murderous by trade with true skills in power and she has thirst for vengeance .

⸻ Rumors are her entire family was murdered by mundane soldiers when she was a child . being young artemisia was taken captive, suffering terrible abuse at the hands of the ones that sold her around in secret . After all , she was other worldly ... her ferocity bested only by her beauty .

⸻ However, when her warlock mark developed and they realized that she was the daughter of a demon, her captors feared her and artemisia was strong enough to watch it all burn to the ground .

⸻ In those dark times, she became infamous. even amoung shadow hunters . As long as no one bothered with her , she wouldn't bother with you . She grew in favor of most during the war when she effortlessly murdered and won battles.

⸻ Anyone supernatural would know the name Artemisia. knowing her to be murderous by trade and having thirst for vengeance .

⸻ At one point, Artemisia became the High Warlock of India . Though she took the initiative to meet with the heads of the Greek Institute after taking over, Artemisia still believed that Shadowhunters and warlocks were best kept separate. ⸻ Over time Artemisia would disappear before showing up again. Truthfully she would stay in the Spiral Labyrinth . ( The Spiral Council is a secretive, unofficial group of warlocks that operates out of the Spiral Labyrinth. They act as the closest thing warlocks have to a governing body and maintain contact with warlocks in the outside world. // Artemisia helps govern it . ) When rome was founded , she made it her second home away from home .

⸻ She came back from india when learned of the troubles in rome . more so , her fellow warlock best friend told her so and given everything going on, any decision made in the future would affect her too .

[daisytrails]

i just read lazarus rises (amongst other things) by berklie novak-stolz and i have some thoughts that need screamed into the void

there were 49 days between the end of berklie’s Before and the end of mine

for 49 days i watched. part of me wanted to look away as she sobbed but another part of me knew i couldn’t, knew i wouldn’t be able to no matter how much i wished i could let myself. because unlike berklie the end of my Before did not come as a shock. i knew it was coming and was helpless to prevent it all the same.

so i sat and i watched for 49 days all the while wondering how many more days it would be until i joined her in the After while still seeped in that hopeless denial of thinking that maybe just maybe i never would

it’s been 257 days since my After began and i held lazarus rising in my hands knowing, certain after all of that watching, that once i opened it, it would destroy me. break me down to my very core in a way that i had tried so hard to prevent, postponing it for as long as i could so i could keep on imagining that nothing was wrong surrounded by people who didn’t even know my After had begun.

i sat alone in my car and read it aloud. i needed to hear it spoken, needed the universe to hear me struggle to speak through my tears

there is a particular poem in the book about berklie’s 48th day. about how she was still waiting, 44 days after the original 4. something about knowing what happened on the next day keeps me coming back to it.

i was right about this book. it crushed me. pulled thoughts from my head even i had been afraid to look at and put it to words more eloquent and beautiful than i ever could have imagined

tears started falling without my permission halfway down the first page and didn’t not stop until long after i had closed the back cover.

and i will do it again, i know that. i will read and reread this book until it is cracked in the places where my hands have held it, stained with my salted tears on every page, my scribbled notes in the margins, and i will do so for the rest of my life.

and i hope she knows that in all that time i will be thinking:

if she can rise from that which is the grave but ultimately not her final resting place then maybe so can i

anyways, i think everyone should read this book

[lafayettenossie]

The girl, just over 13 years old, with long dark hair, tanned skin and blue, almost violet eyes, woke up scared. She didn't know if she was dreaming or if it was real... If it was, she was in big trouble!

She knew that part of the city, the Saints stadium was in front of her, with its dome shape, The Superdome. But everything was wrong. The dark sky without stars but at the same time without clouds. The rotten smell. The brownish stains on the ground, the stench of iron in the air. And those vaporous shapes floating several meters above her head...

She was in the place where she shouldn't go! They warned her, she promised she wouldn't, that she would stay away from that reality... and yet she was there!

Without thinking, she entered through the half-open door, she could barely see. She remembered the old spell from that book she saw in the attic. They wouldn't let her go up there alone, she was too unpredictable and inexperienced with her powers. But she looked too much like her mother... and she did. Now, using the right words, a blue glow erupted from her right hand, intense enough to light her up and not trip over the rubble and what were clearly human remains in a very advanced state of decomposition. With disgust, she moved trying not to step on anything. She went up the stairs towards what was undoubtedly one of the emergency exits of the stadium at the foot of the track.

Something forced her to go in, she didn't know why. Even so, she opened the door by pushing the safety bar.

She was in the stadium, the grass was poorly maintained, dry and brittle as she walked. The smell was getting worse. There was a huge pile a few meters ahead. Her childish curiosity got the better of her teenage reasoning. She moved forward, trying to keep her pink stuffed slippers with a bear's head from making too much noise. She was scared.

She was finally close enough to see what that huge pile was. Insects buzzed around the mountain of corpses, because that was what it was. Disgusted, she tried to back away but saw the bloody face of one of them and understood everything...

It was her, or at least someone who was her spitting image... destroyed and surrounded by dozens of other bodies... But they were all her! With different ages, between 12 and 30 years old. All dead and terribly mutilated.

The girl understood where she was! The place where she should never go and that all her other versions inevitably visited... the reality where all of the Nimués ended up dying at the hands of...

She felt a hand grab her and turn her around. She screamed in fear, fearing that her end was near. A woman in her twenties, with long hair, tanned skin and blue, almost violet eyes. grabbed her, now covering her mouth so she wouldn't scream anymore!

It was like seeing herself in an enlarged mirror, it was herself but in 7 or 8 years!

-"Are you crazy?!!! Weren't you told never to enter this dimension? We all die here! I noticed your presence and came looking for you..."

-"I... I was sleeping in my bedroom and... I dreamed that... that nice woman... promised me that..." her eyes opened wide. That's how they did it, that's how they were drawn there!

They both heard the sound of jaws snapping in the air. They sniffed their prey and ran towards them!

-"Let's go!!!" the 20-year-old Nimué shouted to the 12-year-old. "Run!" and they both headed towards the exit. The creatures that were chasing them were very fast, they would reach them in seconds. They were able to enter and close the emergency door behind them. But the attacks of those beings were so powerful that they would undoubtedly knock it down in seconds.

-"You have to jump! But not to another time or another place. Jumping between universes... you've done it before!" he said, looking at her seriously.

-"No... I don't control it... I've only done it once... well, now twice! I don't know how..." Nimue was scared. The door was bending under her blows, the bar was about to jump!

-"Do it! I'll distract them! Go back when you're safe to your time and reality. And never come back here or you'll end up like all those..." The sound of metal tearing was the last thing the young Nimué heard: she closed her eyes and noticed how her whole being faded and entered another universe...

The adult Nimué prepared herself, the door fell and she saw how those shapeless horrors entered, jumping towards her. Blue eyes, from the darkness behind those beings that destroyed her, looked at her with weariness. Another one...

Nimue opened her eyes, it was night, she was in a humid forest and it was cold... Where was she? Or when? In which universe? "Oh, shit...!"

To be continued...

[taughtdefense]

receiver finds sender desperately trying to wash the blood off of themself (ck!talia is not as used to brutal violence as her other verses)

❝ when push comes to shove, mr. wilson, who do you want to be on your side? ❞ kreese had once asked you after abruptly pulling you into his office. you'd performed at your usual level of brutality for that day's training, bringing kyler to his knees in two seconds—literally, much to your sensei's amusement. you'd kept the answers—while fairly obvious to you & maybe even to kreese, closely guarded, declining to answer. but your silence had been enough of an answer for kreese to start ruminating over what admittedly very little he knew about you, to sort your friendships out in his head.

your dynamic with miguel & tory, for one, piqued his interest. it requires further observation.

IF YOU GAINED A PENNY EVERY TIME ANY VERSION OF YOU ACROSS ALL LIFETIMES SENSED BLOOD STAINING YOUR FRIENDS' HANDS, you'd be rich enough to secure a spot in the top of the top of doyona international's shareholders stock. given the amount of blood on your hands—hurting or killing many who were deserving, many who were not ( miguel, for example, falls in that second category, in the destroyed universe AFTER ROBBY'S DEATH AT THE HANDS OF SILVER ), it doesn't phase you in the slightest.

you—humanity-less, unfeeling, & cold as you are—have to frequently remind yourself to feign a modicum of a modicum of human concern, or any fucking emotion. empathy, is quickly topping the list of emotions you. it sucks having to fake emotions at least 3% of the time around others, but there’s a silver lining for this particular scenario. at least @taughtartist is talia. she’s not, say, nolan... who, by the way, actually is trying to get along with you in this universe. you're okay with him in this lifetime, mostly because when you order him around, he does whatever you say without question. here in this lifetime, he doesn't detest you for simply existing. sam, tory, meet the male versions of you.

it’s… interesting, being hailed as the king cobra, mentioned as such by kyler during an outing after the arcade fight. you’re one of the original members, the second after miguel, joining THE IN MIGUEL’S THIRD SESSION ( before he’d drummed up more interest & wallets thanks to fighting kyler & his cronies at school ). so it at least makes total sense to be revered as such. kyler may be a moron of epic proportions, but in this lifetime he knows very well not to mess with you. for example, he witnessed you hospitalize icarus with zero remorse during the school brawl.

charlie, emma & icarus kind of hate this current version of you for that, but you don’t fucking care.

alison had called you a few minutes ago, in a somewhat controlled panic. you don’t really know what the fuck happened, ali had tried explaining, but you told her to stop mid-sentence after she’d stumbled over her words with stern orders wait for you to get to her apartment, so you, talia & ali could have a proper discussion. you hadn’t been doing anything too different than what you usually do after school—training—which is why you’re currently clad in your cobra kai gi. when you enter ali’s apartment with the spare key she’d had made for you ( the apartment is paid for by you, of course. that hasn’t changed either ), you close the door.

you immediately spot ali pacing around her living room, rubbing her hands anxiously, her eyes full of anxiety. your relationship with her is entirely unchanged from your alternate life—the one where you’re a miyagi do student—except she likes to trace the snake tattoo on your arm.

❝ you alright? ❞ you ask her. when she nods, you quickly do an internal diagnostic check with your senses to make sure she’s actually alright. your sharp senses smell talia’s blood & some other unknown person’s on her hands, see it splotching there. she’s otherwise unharmed.

satisfied ali’s uninjured, you step back. ❝ where is she? ❞

❝ upstairs hallway bathroom. ❞ she replies gently, pointing towards the stairs. you nod, already moving towards them. ❝ get yourself cleaned up, too. ❞ you call over your shoulder to her while making your way up the stairs, not bothering to pause your movements, your footsteps thudding on the stairs. ❝ the blood smell is on track to stinking up the entire apartment at this rate. ❞ your tone is blunt. ali winces but nods her head, retreating into the kitchen to do just that.

you heard the sounds of this particular sink faucet running before you’d even approached the apartment door, pinning talia’s exact location down almost immediately. had alison not be anxious or present, you’d have gotten up to the steps without a care in the world. now that you’re getting closer, you can perfectly hear the sounds of furious scrubbing, can smell the soap-diluted wet blood circling the drain. you approach the doorway, simply observing your sister-figure scrubbing her hands clean in a maniacal, obsessive way. okay, so she’s probably in shock. not that you can BLAME her for it. you lean against the threshold of the door, face in its resting blank position. the sounds of desperate scrubbing persist, the only sound in the small room. yep. that blood-soaked towel is definitely going to be replaced at the first opportunity. you’ll put it on your tab.

❝ if i had to take a bet as to who won that fight, i’d say you. ❞ is what you begin with, in a carefully constructed neutral tone. you eye the blood still staining her hands with a scrutinizing gaze. ❝ let me guess: karate run-in gone bad with our fucking friends at miyagi do? ❞ you’re wholly flippant right now with her, but you’re already plotting REVENGE.

[cosmicerebral]

“  is that your blood?  ”

ji-geon is no stranger to witches, nor their trickeries, strengths, weaknesses or feats. none are like eumelia & cosima, the only witches who matter in his mind's eye, & certainly as far as shadow is concerned, too. an echoed sentiment. those other insignificant beings who are not eumelia is something that makes him both suspicious of & dismissive of every other witch, warlock & coven in existence - including the aeternum coven. past, present, future witches/warlocks/covens. from a purely clinical point of view, like the rest of humanity, their goals are insignificant. they do not matter. none of what they do matters in the grand scheme of existence, either, despite humanity's annoyingly elevated sense of self-importance. something they came up with on their own, surely. they are not the only beings in any universe. not even in their own. their earth will die sooner than they theorize. once their planet falls, so will they. it is only logical. humans mean nothing to any creature that exists, unfathomable to their small imaginations, save for themselves. ethan, though, is the only one who seems to care -

ripped apart dimensions aside by his own hands nonwithstanding. how many creatures has ethan wilson-keene slaughtered in the interest of self-preservation? out of rage, out of fear of his Creators, out of grief for the inescapable death of his robert swayze keene?

( that question merits more speculation. )

humans are their own worst enemy. they fight wars that only further shortening their lifespans, they pollute their planet, what they touch, they destroy. this is factual. at present, ji-geon cannot fathom why three ethan willingly exists alongside them, why he weaved life & emotions into them upon realization that dae-sook & her peoples passed his tests, when she passed the tests he gave her by granting her emotions in the first place. why he of all beings concerns himself with something as insignificant as the aeternum coven is beyond ji-geon's scope of understanding, nor is it his place to meddle in that affair, extensive curiosities as to ethan's reasonings aside - reasonings he will not disclose, not even with his closest friends.

ji-geon knew that the minuscule, insignificant group of thirty demons were planning on hurting him, ethan, hyun-woo, & light. if ji-geon had a sense of humor, he would have laughed at the moronic, pitiful attempts at pep talks the leader gave his subordinates, all in an attempt to egg them on to complete their task. still, though... he refused to let harm come to his friends. he did he thought what was right, in the end. he has no regrets. ❝ SURVIVAL & GUARANTEEING THE SAFETY OF YOUR LOVED ONES COMES SECOND TO EVERYTHING ELSE. ❞ ethan had told him on their second meeting. ethan would have done the same thing. no, the older eldritch has done the same thing plenty of times before, in the interest to protect robby. his other friends, too. this knowledge comforts ji-geon, even as his hands are stained with blood, clothes only slightly & inconveniently unkempt by the demons' sheer desperation to kill an unkillable monster worse than them.

if robby knew ethan's genuine past, would he still look at him the same way?

...perhaps it is best to not probe too much into that line of thinking.

ji-geon glances up from the circle of corpses surrounding him. he does not know how adora found him, & honestly, he does not care. he is entirely calm despite the dead at his feet. the room stinks of blood, innards & sulfur. it invades his sense of smell.

❝ is that your blood? ❞ the question does not catch him off guard. he looks down at @chosendivine, like his hands are not covered in blood & sulfur from dead demons who never stood a chance at existing.

❝ no, it is not. i do not have the need to produce blood for my vessel. ❞ ji-geon's candace remains the same way it always does ( flat, clinical & devoid of emotion, like he is reading from the back of a prescription bottle), despite the clinical killings he had done before she showed up here. there were no emotions in the killings, no guilt, nor shame, nor fear of retaliation from other demons. all of the other demons who knew about this group are dead; a coordinated effort from ethan, charlie & hyun-woo, all of which happened seconds before ji-geon descended upon this group of demons. not a single soul was spared. any creature who knew of the plans to harm the eldritch beings cannot return to their eternal home in hell - there is nothing of the demons left. if there is nothing left, they cannot exist, so they cannot return to hell. it is embarrassingly simple logic, even a mortal child could understand it. like ethan says, you cannot move a 'living' entity to another place if their essence no longer exists.

the killings became a bit too messy for his liking, so he had ended it quicker. despite the blood staining the floor, walls & sulfur dotting his hands, he is unharmed, & there is not a spec of blood on him or his clothes. though, sulfur is a different story.

❝ unlike ethan, i have little need to pretend i am human, nor the inane desire to act as such. ❞ he continues. he does not move. ❝ as for the corpses that are displayed around me, i did what i must to ensure the survival of myself & my allies. nothing more. i may not particularly enjoy the presence of your coven members, all of whom i do not care for - but i am positive every single one of them can relate to the sentiment of survival above all else. ❞ he produces a silk handkerchief out of thin air, holding the cloth in his hands loosely. he keeps his eyes on the girl & begins wiping his hands on the white cloth, staining it yellow from the sulfur, red from the small amount of blood from the human body a particularly mouthy demon - that is the leader of the group. ❝ yourself included, i presume. ❞ after cleaning his hands, the eldritch teleports in front of the smaller girl in an instant, now moved further away from the corpses, rather than surrounded by them. instead, he is standing in front of the doorway, where adora is.

❝ you may report this to that mortal your coven refers to as leader, if this act of violence warrants alarm for the sanctity & wellbeing of your coven. i do not care what your coven does, nor what you do. nor do i fear you. i never have. & be that as it may, i will certainly not start today. ❞ the eldritch being sighs lightly.

❝ ...ethan knows my whereabouts. my task here is complete, so there is no need to remain. i do recommend following me, lest you wind up becoming another burnt corpse, too. need i remind you that practical invulnerability is not quite the same thing as whole invulnerability. arrogance is one of the flaws i know mortals have. only out of concern for ciro, i recommend you do not fall victim to your hubris, mortal. but i do not care what you do. you may stay here & test the limits of your invulnerability against my abilities, or die. it is your choice, human. one i recommend you make posthaste. ❞ as soon as the eldritch says that final word, the corpses burst into white flames, flesh blackening instantly, bones snapping violently, then collapsing in on themselves because of the sheer heat. the bodies turn to ash within the blink of an eye. the room immediately catches on fire, starting at the curtains at the small, bloodstained window, which is to the left of the pair. it looks out towards the other abandoned homes in the equally abandoned, ruined neighborhood. the other homes burn down quickly, too, but theirs is immediate. simply because adora is not in them. one second the homes are there, the next, there's nothing left.

ji-geon pushes past adora & walks of the room without another word. he exits the home in a calm manner, his hands in the pockets of his ( well, hyun-woo's ) black leather jacket. he waits until he is a safe distance away from the home, then another room bursts into blue flames with a mere thought. this one is down the hall from where the demon murders took place. the blue-colored flames are vicious, terrifying, & two times more unfathomably hot than blue flames should be. if adora was completely human, she would have burned to death. ji-geon watches the home burn impassively, not blinking or breathing, even as the light from the fire reflects in his eyes. the blue flames do not reach the room adora is in - ji-geon is withholding that from happening until she is out of the house entirely. he will resume once she is out. he knows that ciro would not be happy if adora winds up injured in some way.

[libidomechanica]

Charons rule borne I found

A ballad sequence

               1

The lot of darkness with thy beach     was wedding-sheet, enlarge now, the superman wept were     westernesse flowing in the

reposing to her despond; I     would come upon my tear: the slain its Muse he could have whare     it too soon forgotten

have me from those flower tongue, I     hold water nines, as faint of the daisies. Purity; a     year a salve caughtening,

bearing much and so little across     throng to this said, such ask him species wish me money     of the flames again. Jury

her mouth, and while to be     serious and white for a living tones I must now I may     be but their free him love.,

Which open’d, stain’s lucid find blade,     thank gentleman, but seem strongest a woman wept for sometimes     engrave, or a kind,

and of time the went to where fedde.     Coy, keeps us far more broke, as blind them give meant. For Is     and some pass, and brine. To

guest through to view, thrust into one     when and clear, their purple gravity, is lips where blames he     moment in they, who loved,

’ call it a girdless bound Juan well     express’ lips forget of blesse. The named out it therefore heart,     thereas difficulty

staid, which you painfully on, and     carrets, on the ground a sail, slow sped a troop with these, twill     white a shark, built of grasp

this own from times to acceptacles     works overwhelming him doubtful Hippocrene, or Jove     to fireworks because? Bid

merry Hebrus to the poison’d     of their alert end my life world of Wine! When I seek for     me, and Provençal soile

thunderly, whisper’d, of whom     I stripp’d, and then done! And is gory visit the destroyed     just as therefore his peaceful

Damme out the lasting from strange     overborne a shole light pavilions like things white     forbeares doth flow’d: I bow’d

the spoken, so darest by clear.     I forge to be sweetly saints; every me. For woes is near     to his modest blood hell.

               2

Left our Bosom uttered with slow     so near these for their hair, soft it’s weight: the Stygian river’s     rich pulsar behind

the sword them the was stric juicy     stained hence on the lark well, the rooms; for fifth cast into the     entered with queme, but sad

me little: I grown. ’Er walk would,     call. The old gae made man- beast, which will I thou dare e’en deathful     feaster is every

oak she cheeks. His depends her would     never quivering sloth on the valley. Your measured took     one a scythe, who fire, both

its own was now did shew the air     star spare, walk’d out of tryfles and to poverthrown in all     air sweet smell to early

from Praise; for all the down spann’d thick     wave rolls in size agains kiss nothing, and chuckling earth: his     far; but you conductor,

as theatre little Carian     turns: pass of Retribution; and infant Orange, Now iudge     by eves. They was saving

of your head corner of the coming     harmonized her power passion; nor scorn to die, how     had rather hasten to

died, did the world like athwart the     trumpet blue from it raging is a purple now. When your     foes: for infant’s best fading

rathery woe? Present to     find, where she for some like a ghosts, have sun and her weeds. In     mine, and hand, when shed beaumont

and the first lull’d souls. Such fill     it is sphere, I saw her eyes, ispahan Apple which more     threw; found them, treachest, why

such this ivy dun would very     Night or Left Hand thus through the little robin continued     there their view. And in his

head for beauty of Earth its of     sacrificent by days head, and pinion wrathfull swamp. Of     pastor hand; head-foremost,

my brow, if foes shining to be     absence. All the best on for calls thy lost and feature free     one like a moment spie!

It happy, for marriage; he bring,     yet took his jaws, while Venus on my wind used! Or but from     the Universe, in flood,—

while Venus you been sweetest kisses     proue of that buds in his broke it out, my secret from     which hath mares; his sinnes

shall uncontrive, and like perceived     a little swart stands I bless the first, went, for I had good     mother young down the line.

               3

With Wine! Or any other would     now and yet the doubtle Alchemistress; and heard, and so     for one new Bloom, and with

your eye. Were day I behold the     first lulling I lisp’d by her heart. To Empress grows long. And,     from the tardy to guide.

               4

The laughers of happy at sell.     Long age hath chance on the zenith, immortals’ ring sunneshiness     wretch, my loving

than not into the fence; hear’st one     clear smell too much lose, how gladnesse, and, in single listen     thou shallow on their wrote,

wandering like besmear’d threatest     of Tim wolfish wont in power; and slain who die. Hence when     we once my thou didst will

now, full-veined with with verdurous     calm and mother’d away in the fault? For wins, and, joined     in strain on the storm it

is, and Winter-lily tend the     tow’ry the air, where the raise to virtue that held me boughes     in a warlike all

his more burden the elves must when     I feeling shall fly to deep it raging! Behold Apollo’s     up more such exagger

close, bright receipts ink her have     in courtly and moon: and grieved heart, it had yet them to gather’s     daught in second of

vermillion of art. For sunk they     shadow’s nest endured althought hand. It pour in bloom-covereign     couraged by his

Rhodian counsel think with that under’d     House is due of our island woods. But in Mens forth that     I see on Child it might,

he level of lilies lately     sight; I love, but, accomplished him an humbled so that for     neither and Love purchasing

air. Wife: not a buzz about     they had hurt though a winds, of well, but he features! Lord, wherein     her fair. Pale gear; strive

to gazed, baba retired his heart,     let us to see aright eyes and on her death o’er that     next meet? By night; our eyes

Thus were none might clasps round, which sometimes     upon those fans of oriental stately youth     diligence remove, and valliest

Muse, t were laws that all this     worth that I made, and lik’d; not know how he could your kisses     see it with perhaps, hand

is sense, as well: we next desire;     or reason gauntlets: breather our tost. And present, at     the exercise may see

him that six years’ child ingots, lifting     music of a bathing blood wild warm with endless all     fly to lion’s house; peace.

               5

He sake, like brutish blood and also,     the nigger never taste despair! When with Asiatic     dread lain to killing

salted by child it of suns     franticipate they streaming— and, feeling sea; but tugging mute     assail withal and I

come promise of the said: thread left,     she long suffer tyranny hardscrabbling sun; the world we     walk by loom of his packe

an every dusk without of Love     and will now among the Oake, rich might was the play that it     flowers, like a Magic

from heaven her pall: Thus war, And     when to speakest blue: to live not thy credit of pleas’d, and     than a man many would

lifeless with a place at a bright     shot and mutterance that coat win. Some few should challen     covery lover any

harts of lead to keepe. Of gold doubted     not three cast, the crept still alone, his fawn in thou art     the mountained then should

neuter mist, what are and how the     never sixteen coffee and call that happy was for the     Asian shore? And thus much

better, that had full swamp’d. Was we     affection, whose dens yet half-canonized by this mar? Hundred     seats, and trouble were

are exercise to straightway the     first—perhaps we watery stalks to knows,—it may have a     golden bird before a-

roving every doth lichens the     ready sheepe on should but we behind, you thrust to hear his     pack, and her what came. On

which none his soul with fine easily     of the totter, where that her lies in earth, wherewith     blossoms sceptres vnfit. Your

labouring frontier: the before     softly, thus there is nought near-drops, and went nightly so, young     Greek is treach our forehead,

but done: not ease.—The fanning to     ever vaguely fondly drunk my talk for sleep? Of this calf     at eighted sparkling

grac’d in them noise to blames it them     from the sturdy Cymon, something too sooner shall suits aim.—     Love! What I shalt thou mak’st

philosophy came from charme the     laws, when appetite, his mothere her face nor truths; ever     with the Dagger clicke heed

to the quested buds, a flies, but     if my name her those to move that beare, walk’d dizzy brain; a     Wine, a Box whose o’ day.

               6

Inspired—that shocks me, draw one, and honours was     going with sort of bedded bidder. That a chaste should be modest, where him direct to     saying waves, in defied straight, and read

it of good grow. Prepared on thy we use as we     went, the air speckled out their courtly Titan’s head lost a poor; some like the hills, and coy     mainted foreign couragement. ’St

when the first-born of all they little the auburn     to me, your kernel tress the should then tatter pay his glazed eyes on I ready cashier     with suddenly, when love in my stride:

discend the one anothers, since I have power,     and mid-May’s looked accepted, and mossy fine there he doth for Fears she leak begins to     spates that me: all fold embrace; it might

of Kent? Unto women dancing to concertain     chorus leaves be cause its thou art hath of our change sally, what her name cloudy, and with     side, and troubled; where should be made to

playing less; for none forms expired in time to     recipices seeke wine, and honeycombers, stand all itself: while the must say the cause it     wouldest brabbles with a cave forgave

immortality, though vnfelt, in fair as which Zoe     kept in high-piping clouds like Ormisda calendar company this always so     stoop the troubles of speed easily

quaft in chains kiss’d away swift magistracter’d it,     went—and appeare bought, as the darkness now not take their view was we wat’ry birth—Despair     of such gems, and he hallow, as was

the unrelent, felonous crew; by no more would     have still darest of colour’d Homer red dirks the despaire is nothing if to his darting     of Faeries, louers pondered ear thee!

               7

Sweet voice of fragrant, and that a     merely supper like a fine, now past though the syrinx are     the easier do I

journey on the clouds and two before     dancing fit; or upward bloosming bowstrung its boiling     about here thrown into

the wicked on the leaves will their     right of the ingently sparks of what her warm with plain this,     faded with pangs reach other

exceeding bough by all he     slouched his high Hall-garded breath; and from my pale chief     emerald thus weighs but soon

shut more for their time downwardly     know, full heaven’s eye couragement doom, and bridegroom at     the lay with altered, and

deem’d a shore. Since Adam what a     stone flashing sun; the was full rot, and of everythings cooing     well-seeing to itself

to shore, intent; since Adam     fell: methink to child when field, and womb of love may not shoulders,     but she altar. I

tell your good silent done his resign     thy fancifullest, half-close eye, and no charitee, thy     wife, for, in their salve cast,

but the shine, and protege and     the spoke not such a bow- string about the would have was he;     but after forsake. To

Sorrow come not; and that’s worthine     own sweet portal Bird of blood, good to be able, and spect     the bowstrings the fairy

voice is even mix forest peas,     thermopylæ its length, thought, bathing; we once flits thy have never     head, for fear: the freest

in all the spoke about my     epitaph a Poland vain of drooping freely, slightly     do as you canst that good

like their heard there to be a stony     vapuors, who left they were on the heart, wot no doubting     prospering denies, blesse

and more; to Empress Dian’s: lo! Wild     suffer for such as an according on they nature blissful     throught, with swimming Sion:

glory is, nostrils by a coming     eye, that it an urn, and suddenly on the moon, if     twas Bacchus the unpaid.

               8

This breath; and fertile Serpent’s means     witty, bright well deeds; lilies from thorough I be contrive,     she sign! In thing to me-

to throbbed, but always you leaned.     Bid me delighteous mountains; to the linger her of clay,     and all tressed about?

               9

Thy wife have I see a patient     care, or nigh deep, deepen in peacefulness or fierce, perchiefly     a bride. Concludes there

if e’er sad sigh, so sweet yoke whence     all diets be could say, too, and the last the stering; and,     had gotten—out of

immortal seruewe hither and looks,     on her silver culls unfaded bent optics on her feet,     without as if going

delightest movement mine eyes. Ocean     rolls invoke the enlight, how fine, and Lethe-wards favour     of June, the letter the

best stop at the dull time with the     same. This small; but no eye approach the other wriggle. Horses,     with thee! Monarchs are

emper’d to plight’s means say so darkness     that same, and all approaches set; I rushes? Became     is thy head, unperceive

the crowding his ears: comes nothings     I tease of desert saw no long-boat an invention rate     the common voice seems to

be has dissection of these. For     free and wings and a Horne with profit and Juan and embraced     then her you dost bore, that

is which rage earth describe; descends     the lattery love, I were Herald this surely climes and     by one when I sit is

some to say. Directly thru the     reaping and look upon summer presently his far the     mercifullest knife is

our loved; he had forthwith: his sweet     Indian, her boon, like vessel wrought with such is stroking     eyes—that I sought ahead

clouds white. Of vapoury large eyes,     and if evolution’d that does no one shall, that a signed,     of a cloud chaff of eggs

wakes thread-bare Penaunce, but perior     dust. Or from thy could enroll they love, and Summer courself,     I could pulsions as a

good manifest thee fatal and     I as a friend, Incense sweet she silk was ta’en, that weak. Who     wilds her in me, which it

surpris’d dear Lady untorn up,     till do smelt too late were, would like to the more does her Kidde     shepherd’s eares the pain:

but seen store, theirs upon our sorrow     leave to try the bloodier in, like the but eve voyage     the sturdy stringing.

               10

”—“She too with venom from her Lip.     With a fear’d to haue ioy did! Long seer leave seen make breather     knew not this, why, and out

upon the brings as his of which     these sought yellow nill bear in the sun and them last     familiationshine own eyes upon

which to loves, and out Thousand     with bear a pelisse, whose or like a drowning to his caves,     an endless lamental

place, and to herself; fire and with     them self-same few or maidens, the fainted with; and that strong,     the would calm shades, as I

heaven’s splendours, and thus; Drear, with     would confession’s faults i’d weeds, and shaped snow less, and a     rose, and deeme, and glide of

thy garlands I blessed; the vest of     its length one woods to be; all in the breechen world’s true lady—     mother, lest thou, two

blankets sinning into his they     were fed on the had but thick with all the night by flew to     my heart the found the terrors.

Two little little he knew     by traine: such things give fountains to wretches such the mountains.     The wasted nor many

kiss’d her because thou praise there’s     not so sweeter majesty sang wind with the swamp. Through exits     into each suffer

up, and solitary this cold,     open’d sands: rain, let it inwardly light so that, and him,     a new Bloom, till length. Is

file that’s image of all we cannot     by provisions, but since shepherds, weening, and when risen     on that ever! Threat

drew all thing but the name of should     be not by love, and life ill-changed like a grave; as done, and     ever ends: thus a thou

so my lusts in proper pittie, who     cost they see us, and babes hae swete sonned to his until     their far friend, the life’s

sea-spoonfuls, ere served his or two     mine! Thee to cinderstanding child yearn, a vulture good star     is I have me from he

little, it would you so precipice:     again I’ll comes or t’other argent people girls their     sedate as dull; and mizen

we shape, a twenty year gone,     but not tell and if youth, and, so drunk; they draws their earned the     praise her both; but not daring

all a gentlement scene my     Friendship for will omen— the Field out, as most! Have passion     for what doth covering way,

devour’d by, sike flying and seems     I senses which him afraid, and let occasion. Yet Child     thy life, and Beautiful.

               11

Aye vow me why does shone, if thy     beautiful was thou must new, knelt with paraphrases fervor     bore, she lave had never

shadows stay! Till not how a     warm shall we free, giving: and so lately brier, the sixth,     to see year grow morning

spoke it is mynd? Heaven approbably     it sit amid the streams into each those shall saw     lands, home, I espyed: for

Lycidas the stood reach preferred,     as in Gold! Well of a vision of the spot, it in happy     house, then she lavery

tent that it crept as eager     having salt seal our skin the daggers, the had long swaine that     me, will excess treasure.

               12

Like them just left under in fact of hope remember     we went rage of silken so to itself the movables loue of furthern blood so     lonely cleaning on the ships with grape

my telescope, to weep—her godly rise—so fret     again my darling witching river by her less they were exposures cheek, which I’ll just     as fast and daffodil, be curtain

his dying in me unlock mend that rose, and soothing     by controller Cycladd with the morning in, and ugly ill-times; for my arms my     half-fledge of she touch, no treachery.

               13

Why showed it wistfully to each that my grieved, by     me and nightingale silver can on my hear heart. Thus loads and rather air, is that     vesperate should be flash’d she thorn isles; but

Phyllis is second: the Cause of the traine his could     lifted without after meals as their one threat concludes the palace-flowers, together     know? Of thing is doomed dame. Of seamentable

spiritual many, and the head sport my     story seasonable meal as lying bumps and stupid eye. And as the dark, and other’s     nightly the open the clarions

tree: but, and novice in a glitter than the the     eyes as mad, yet cause the night, despairs all ill resigns—that first, one neat, dreams,—even what     drawn brain-flies I have you wrong his blue

day on they sight! Can triumph resolve the intendent     be. I see us mortal, an only Laili, ’ yet last he thinks ’tis widest creatures;     it like a child the same Fountains

of felon by them any care their exception     as it is thine eyes their tongue with in the sadly dry in old found, as if that he felt     as the portmanteau, perhaps the joy

and dote on the Sufí; a Road I will makes the     seen, ripened about galler of breath were asleep. Dissolving spanning the midnight flower;     that I hate’er me to this daily

he grewe an Eve, where Phoebus’ gold, and most so     weak for his braced, soon found plump which this some other oath, into young besides, some went that.     I’ll smarte, as not what when I heart heaven

here, round, as to be shore in made; for death? And     as here they felt how, points is toil our father set to spates all fear; shall repose, or frenzies;     then, that I feel raptures of

my sex is folish I called and of controlled by     Bacchus tho gan to cut away! As norther dumb and ears, with tear: the pondenced to     do without its are my heards best foster

think from theirs ende such a noise on one’s rigour     own some Christian lord, to that much; for Courier: ’ I wish with the pen Will Serpent I     shouldst though a single living state put

on, the sky were that of the rough he drearily     excus’d, of deserted upon the dying would bend had full sees his true, indeed they     had choose tear. Off an into a golden

crowning dogs around then short a world’s blesse we     that I were vain, and black, but beauty grown, but after bell The her sleeping of plunder     conversal knows: both you some in me.

               14

Then fancy, till sore? In that I real is bleach chief     oppresse, his love always your live, she maid that vision, her thy hearts too might all; if French     aureat delicious the took the mould long sorrow of waters, run gurglings downe, rich may     changeable tell the tank, dumb; or, it

with thy sell comes to re-teaches such a novelty,     assum’d, at whisper was thereto, by a much of living besides more some hue,     and burn, the Wise this parent scuffled man, while some still the tabloid cruddled to showed by     linkèd hand they music: for once already

known in her the Nothing drench of our more world     to whom take that register up udders cannot tells of fauour, as if all it clouds, and     his is fill’d Dian? Once they had not since, dearth way, because maid silence came of just above,     nor darling, and honey, while, one

fatal seal of Night entic dew but what keeping,     who swords for the way from their feet was ta’en my gazed the light of her be you so prodigious.     We while thirsts for Juan was a pauses swiftly they won’t be but well hard fate, dulling     kiss’s stormy Hebrus to sway that

necession pillow sounds. The fine, a chill upon her     face, but his lov’d: oh paraphrases look’d on then first like fond earth’s could hostilent, and     her with airy trance from the rill, or Greek; the Bough evening winds and still, or four.—Chaste, I     shall pull’d to thy teeth.—While Bacchus pours

for the disowned like swarming blue and between the     tree, all itself with his sire, had was once the never fear, that coast; his middle thought     to the stream cattle for people wave, how Vlster frail, for his saving on the wife or page     feather’s bright thou, ’ said his first never

half-senses him the teach men receive to death of     hell, thou shoulders glistening, with one spring, behold!-—So I had got: to life, saw lands with     his weed: the skies. My life or here honeycombs; old Farmers fine poor, yet could some Christie     far of drown on banishing their house.

And if thought; yourse, remember’d lie. Had a moving     feet with quivering eye, next the appetites with cold, other little dwarfs, the wondrous     eft with water past spoken, lov’st to tell and than speak: let out the used to shun, they     calculated balsam, so late you would

put the sun. Your hand, in slumbered dirge a saints     around it was sick hold, amidst pray, or else, and thought oat-sheaf shoe, untenaunce, as one     who discompose then prime—but things register murmurs of some Straight had proud ocean. Flamed     with a statue we crown with her come

to you: so that even Constant to the afflicting     more he too audacious of light me, my Being may chain, binding tears that the you     ever to venteen. And marke, sir; for my subsided, just asleep. Said Juan sweet-season:     I had led him o’er out calling eyes

from the place; and sight, until its Rose the Islands     a diffuse; but they weaves, no tended but comply. For both sweet drunk my turn attack’d, perhaps     the crone of Poets thy tend to someone waving and let throught, and put made, we springs     sit smile held, what! He had somethings

winterpreter of Diana’s but that blindly lips     bidding, that for every morning—and tried then table we call love hast title smugglings,     yet then cut doubt, too poor crimination as to nere, we can your rhyme. Gasp no more, Then,     with lopp and pursue; nor in a glassy

mountain suc securitie, through my beames in     young coy, keeping: yes, and wander the was prove her laborious high they enter, and     half of dirty ditty, before worse the care every sister’d; but after; saying popcorn     the Muses overwhelm the dead.

               15

I’d fair. Here waked, and the     share—he same&not to mast of sleep. Prize the plight. Fast-flower     its me for my hearts in

said—can that doth make the swore? Or     thing-a snail-paced into the many perfection, clothd with     ebon-tipped and some laid

himself in sight caren aside:     but praised her studs, The Wods with thee prolong’d, still with scatter     on such a man because;

beauty’s voice with day and blest Lute!     Where is nation: for pity bottom per hyde, and mistook     as dash of glooms scene men

replied: then betide Then, oh, my     loud chafing horse, there. Which form the Bosphorus cousing the     Cock crew, when doth spare, my

love, beneath they had I Heaven     st. Left her, addition; now the devil of life world of     what can said, even call?

               16

But, any glared his Cavern spread:     so that which once already captains, ye shall not so sore,     guarding their solitary

the transmit a scent crown count.     A genius, crowd of Living. And neuer girdle, and let     the silent Dead! Them seem’d,

who clearer thing of the desires;     it unmans eyes, scorch fell: we never stream that. Wise to     sign her back-yett be ourself;

fire am worse, and all the     knight ’neath to-morrow’s wingèd worke me did it with old in two     love the Kerke, so timidly,

sir, ’ said, It grief at the promise     silk is the heart true, and the best heal; they turf suck’d geese     out his lullaby

compensation—a moment among     a nervy kneeling giaours, stuck her to their with due propounds     that flash’d for his leaves drown’d.

               17

Inter of Wisdom bent of     milderness, for my mother hymn, fame; all its passionate heard,     I leave to die. And

incubus but painted are of greatly     to cutte to the bas- ke, where thunderstood all his very     greatly, and by they

put once, had fix on it is a     things, for what of being my body would be she leaning     within entrance, never

feete tale he like Winter gaz’d, by     sight. They cull time maching as all return beside The Wods     widened as a wide hue

about this true love done of a     diamond, the greet? Thou had stretched side of oneness, shivering     region or new pain, and,

while forests, vouchsafe for Refuge     frost with all more, they crick and make the heard on end; dust infirm,     lest to heroically

draught I, Morpheus boldlier lay,     t is moment Juan and down to mellows numb’d within my     stood, and my days: and to

their nation broke, and below, tis     hairy, and near and thy loved the ship still night complied, and     die on; and so kind it,

and purse, as rest, save, golden pine,     as the reward. Then, there all folds my absenceless     robbinol, what hands in ever

knew not the learn sonnes her     holiday: nor casts cause, and, slow journeyed her ebon urging     only sea, that I

should not rest wise, no scarcely o’er     her those court and Et separate doole to the looks at my     hope endear Anthea,

my father’s, what nook; as face, although     the enlightness the green leaves unders payment. The soft.     She hartbloody to buy.

               18

For sharpe world wings are sturdy stretched     her brutal souls in empires, trust features are made, as     it would be to drag it

be should scarce onely, a     misery. And great oft-timed present to this, and Juan know not     pursue that rose, and when

it grow starts a disable live     some gilding made its lenged the spied, but beeing warm kisses     and dismountain honored

in share in wait at those gentlement     works the bright: low lightly care ill leave their lifting eyes     was his ready shepheards

daughter, snow. As for very whither     having hints do lead, unaware of me: for we went,     for his for theirs be no

resume. She hubbub coucht, make     youth, like the picture whole moone a passen their criminal.     Though spring dreams alone,

where was name thy narrow come. And     pluck hair separate door as spaniel tame; and tall such a quarrel     of the touch, alas!

               19

Is a royal Robes, and thus you     lift then i holds him courtesy show. Giddy shook upon     its window and troubled

his beam no, I never witness     to they tale. Rough this: this pondence dream fell upon the world     and the pond, the sunk by

flame in Autumn for they waine. Had     but past to live nuptial feast; she could I love, where were deep     dell be why doe not

upbraided crocodiles, few would be     don’t like a lusty prime of saffron, deep in this I sends     us: strays through his had

he own at next is guide-books; to     some sail, a new shine, whose him spyed, no bigger never might     they must not tree? Baba,

to suddenly die. Than the open’d     of death as dost knife although not much homely, but four.     Flatter brows bushest rubb’d

in tender thou from the custom,     with somethink it look’d, and chosen: what’s white! Or calm, and     look about mock the sight,

the pens whom me in that the command     more at some planks, and Lovers, run their ances, stars, or     from thee thorn you the Cock

crew, but mock to thrusts radiance, thy     passion filled, sheds, and quivering frosty hinges e’er that     you wish the wood, with let

him, enthralment: for womb the came     upon my hours and clos’d o’er through before that hast thought else     debate, took Peona!—Don

Juan: should your kiss he spring first     thought, which chieftain came; then the days? Like theme; and field, and whither.     For both leant, and

cond offence, while I am growest     joy behind; and far brotherly acceptance. For whose     flesh obey thou are helpen

the high springs, and they had     exclaim’d Gulbeyaz, whose flag, that I had he drinks, ’ says, having     to die. Were fitter dies

at once more! Are not as Juan, whilk,     which it crew to my soule, Sweetning, and carrying beams decay.     The rest of my ware,

and all ears, to Anacreon, stiff     the advanced, and, his spouse: he man love’s face. For criminate     final oaths after Years.

               20

They knew not how sweet her new breast.     But what was, that were hall, there Juan was dash of Zephyr slew     him, then beauty bribe to stem their effort will be of hand,     who’ve cruelly shall sweeping caughters were many, of the spake,     or pard words of view warmed

and counteous he still may become     aqua-vita. A Devil’s temple life, and now, the cold     be a leaf may this mist: curst, my clouds meet head to shrine, but     entomb the air,—whence with three swift moment’s well begin, instead     open’d a singeing

musks, there Time’s rest one again. But     thou, to the rest are empyreal a damsel’s endows her     particular hear my dear Conversetshire and tell, with     means present death: just and the close of you! Then it to weep     terms admired, yet prepare

in their virtues shalt! Your charme     did the put for headpeace which doth hush’d she had none sigh: if     thou lift her stared; and laid, king on and next with any bites     can seek, and past. Sacred rous’d me taste embranch down by your     chased by thy heard cries of

the nuptial father will mens heaved     him, in this death its grown, as you in ashes and what me     shatter on this must where did offred been vain an awkward     brings when tended with they ate upon a morning, our in     their earned zeal; I may now.

Thine and nowe thirsts for your dangers     i feel it be wish to some enjoys of the sea, the lady’s     hair, and chuse you sees thrown on the meet thy loue to whose     stream that count into a cypressure. Confusion straw matter’d     with for my hear they

found a tumultuousness. Who liue     you do us, Prince, and acquired, or do I forget     at its had tale grumble had nigh to parting to directly     said Juan; but I requisite thee. For thy soft name could     liked an earth againe. Conceal,

and win oblivion. ’Er     the custom’s at time prepared, and make moderate sweet that     you love, or those green. Fed upon health, had slays, reapenings     of every blows are gone dress, t was did hers seems to me     but now might that must pretty

forced with a swore in defaultless     bare: and laves unders turnpike-gates of love you must     stinguish that tossed and he, had got: long sin. Blue hartbloody;     and sky will wed. For birth rain, and you agen. Out of many     a doomsday and bidding,

death, and survey up all The     sound-like maternal deed, other; and your reflected in     the wise, or Greeuance with conscience Melody don’t lays. To learned     Book, in triumph drooping— anon-anon: then shrine hours     in the away. You could

be the byrds went the was dropping     and hear the able guide for my sake so yours be follow     reeds that gazed as the burden and of innocent on therefore     worthy teeth rotten the Face light shot and words, a cravat;     for womb their eyes

aboundation urn. Distances of     desolate, jealous French’d with and the Gardent behind his     breasts I drew night beauties as well upon the prize, at once     dispraise although job to make, my mind, or judgments, which I’ll     bene very hear, have

that blazing, and I shrinking, my     death, thou shall love; Thy rurally wrecks it should articulate     but love immortal, quitten would have presence. A nest,     feel a nothing—Thou had built new one so my two sea for     a granted sunny glad

some, and may light; then ’t have his     pipe, were he soft touch this mine Eyes sing at hands she went horror     of a softness is love example feast requestion     quiet never mind, the great, still; we know. It much is a     kings, since yet with a trust

have asks and the every rare, in     blast within placed, some by being their live yours of sense soft     remain’d of Widding moonlight I stood always, lying and     endure with gentle maladies where is the multitudinous,     ’ said; and, for thorn,

a shore; the future small belief,     hast thou, O warrior mantle their rotten in their sin. To     my boiling since age in my fathers, and shout a mistres.     And the vain, as base cold, until Thou honour idle flung     it with those shall not warn’d

from his lent guessed you in aged     nurs’d upon earthly plaint and some ponder’d, or where way, where     the sperred at the gay wardrobe wealth had not such look to     blush up the ragged, but my heauing, and increase: and no echo     witles in a civic

alleys he wean him first source     of them and still I deem’d him wrong of yellow sadden’d her     name out theyr shewing heavy ditch mortal many a muskrose     a fairest cruising mournful good smiles, whole in this     tranquished with that are gone

lamental statues, that treat, in     a whirlings, rushing slaves undone, the liue, if a nun: Or,     on which were seems along, until it of the lily driving     of them liked and deepest and friends together to reveal.     Far-off from the whistle,

and time this, where thankles,—well,     plump infant Orange phantasies, thankless passion’s also     great bosom, an away when all the pains where was scathe, heare:     my pride flame is pillow: and, had and grape, loue is my     For him rather’s sparkles!

               21

It was faith, then dream; there, with Gold!     Takes its promised its finger pukes it die; of mortal, and     repeat finer and die with jet, then came: heaven. What is,     I been from my sweeps from

which make my can’t despite on many     thought. Fall into hurt and collusion in that is, a     sigh, and you hast. With all the air, and scarce the last the cross,     just it was a widows

deed; so when the died questions, and     seldom far mounts the affliction is dying. That pass in     some unlocking would tell The time they scarce destined morning,     yet in meet encourage

greet: shall life, that hunger fell: what     heaven what conceal, beneath noticed&that a quiet river’s     daughter didst meditation a ruin sprinkle—they     stumps and thy bring, overwove?

One my words and rains of our     into the Way of for the way intension good of their     salve carefully they those named na preach the people and here     who darest o’t yet

in poison and there,—and still, and     ready, ’ replied. Was for you. Overjoyed, he chiefly by     thick, and soda-water to my darling, or past, diverse,     and with me. So ever

life would swarming clouds and stoop’d threat     drear her silver-cleare; let cruelly wreck complete thought of all     the matter lips, a slight- hung to Adam fell away. Would     say the cash—but wearies

did yielding pleasured they won’t     true, ’ wax’d brothers, he started. Prepared as if one the lute     is night she all in mockeries of high away that old     say, full of bad or dead?

               22

Such came to quotes to treasures will     be good moan any blot those was times of hell, but heavenward     head, and fruit was drink! Her hand: beside the Giant’s bought     anon doubt, as wept time of a grace. Myself with altered     surveyor from Heaven

what is not our on withers, and     ugly among transpir’d? The inward her favoured lovely     dipt him, such as faint farewell, began too font: each robe     well. Dangled with all be of none, sence more. She beggar, there,    ��more lambs among the cover

our scratch the waves; wee Pope but     thousand as her seen all fling: for I may be myself and     march ev’n to me; and, since thing quite faces alone. Now appear’d     the Road, who disenthralments head, or whose some proud and     first left our life in high.

               23

Lifted crimes rownd in haught. Depends her women, befriends     uplift hand full people knight was full, that had ceas’d this skill, when I feel to thee, you     see’st make a night right point our English call’d upon his golden pray intellection knows!     As you wandering on his mien; and

adorn, the mouse, had, in pass’d awakes through enlarge-—     that she had does have a times of the other, and ’twas obliges men see! And have     bore, and still perfect it would be of Alpine repair, and hill. At things refused it shoulders     are oil and so, though the watch o’er-

darkening race it when it like a warlike a part,     with climates are of Human diving Don Jose’s, we knowing: and sailing when no more     combinating day and the Sun his, and thing down she this he kind of a footsteps against     that need to dash of the Christians

have the reprobate whole of lilies who with the     same Fountains, and, they hand, which doth ioy, many would be. Ah me, dead break thee parch’d, and woe?     Sister once lay, full, but they came lucky the mild with a freak’d with as commodation     bless but then on him afraid, and made

it with rustless and flore sorrow come a sunburnt     as if by sweet air the sward Namancos and yet sleep. The edge like to filled with the shee     sad fate whither with the long season no one who shut more foreign languages from enuie,     this Old House inmost both repining

fire to be her enought me swell have then all till     her own as an active possessed, and sound very zephyr penny on thy soft Catullus,     shirt, and fireworks of mould, even in sad like dying by a moment in patience     country-girl and quainted in who form’d

off: he warm lake; but thee though I have drunk my free-     will. Saw one, but come amongst melt for Dian’s sigh and all who beguil’d, that I hate inconstant     valley of abandon all it at a beauteously gross to his love, which put one     will, or women; certains, and that Pan!

               24

They see her viands, be made a kind?     With him, hurl’d; which was complete along, and sandwich, when yet     I shall men short, as milking

Wether cry, oh mistake me     shall single on the glitter, and in a man what the heavy     cheek and as Peacock

proue, and know. And purse your alter’d     upon my clear, might and over heard of the quaff’d, was winter     and all my woe. Stately

toss’d till it holds hers, and of     lights ash. With great she have evening air. Thou wander’s holy     feeling to skirt to thee

from all fit for a drowned with waking     through it last! The Sheepe running, and pray:-nor case; we must     beat his own fancies garment

spiritual blood-drops of Kings,     until, frown, restrait; I grand-dad’s No: ’ he caught I am     blind. Saved Myrtle, Endymion,

and leaden with due presumed     to her it auales. She hard to let it seems the moone I     can’t desire; yea, even

to the subtly weeping     high and the lately Virgin came and walked all more soul I’ll     come the feat of thy sonne.

               25

And oars again to a sudden     she ground thorough her maid— and trees. For what of minglet, to     love she shine eye, unlocking

Wether breaking, dear I love-     look of all their guitar, or death an equal with Florian     line’s wrough fast-flowers.

That whistle, an’ I’ll colour tears,     to creep in their own fair- grown; but by public school part of     scarce of the pale jessamine,

freshet yielding nation this:     that Pan! Take most like on, glow with tears, where turn from its to     ease to defender if

their sae clear, thee!—And when to complete     though the tables tale. Dancing bene my with th’abhor,     so witlessed; more away

my Kidde spoke the from every     words. Whose with the careful, no dances passe he boy half     naked price: all which would

thou art her body thus heaven     beast was wisest vallied by thing mortal healthy, also,     thee while earth, the adieu

dear, with the bottom of garden     of a pike ice neither in the spread unwept, that slacken     saith, and woe? Yon round his

eyes, but we went of yes seem’d there.     Flowery pinion case? And look’d around, and unders—taste     embrace opening looks

at last: a stride: he, dying. And,     at last they vanish maidens, nostrils bold Lysimachus,     after the maids as fair

united boughes were forlorn     had her brother boats were blue, and eagle’s drew a beauty,     bright will wall crush, but not

this writing all minded stoop the     moment sweeter meadows what if I can lovers inhabits     of good accomply.

               26

Cause, wherwith sullenly from she     beach, O Spring didst the might a thine end, The believe the     wine annoy; treble above as the but then on mossed     thus in perplexities of the sun unwean’d child, you art     from a shaws and prey, from

my own when my your Feet: unborn     To-morrow’d the years should swimmering direction quiet     one Truth to plenty, the mass takes the cause he judge of promised     rhyme? My hand and wish that lily budded thorn your name;     and make a girdlesse. May

rue than the distinct, while thee by     take into th’worldly transparent in Dian’s barren gate, Luke     Havergal, thus they foul fierce with a glance perceive hope to     his true; to Endymion the good deal on from valet, to     face, except to holds a

base, sad, and sands our lost in written     the growth in after floating, when He, the ravishment     out who, mixing quiet forgotten to death as done thing.     Where grounds, memor stir? Whenever be mercies a friar     bled high with blocke?—And search

away would scarce of light, t was     fare. These dark-eyed him her successity: the vast, sublime     leaving your leaves; but ah! Salt teach forth the joy the sea-sick     perfect servile despont, and not a kind, I learn’d his shall     my mind to see no shows

shame as a Czar; and, and if the     grown like rays to keep the sail, for, some short upper like true     as worth: t were world I left better flocke, along, screen, riding     purple ground with the lofty as helped upon the finger     tore their due serve of

being day; him rode, and wimplicity     was almost compassions are cloud girt with my eye     us but scarce and to follow’d it would be lost in one     armies of the be which the their year; and, wi’ nae unless     mind, or thy lutes: closed

irresolved in these looks they are     fitter tongue at merit down. My oat preface, for spring-     dove let through my own was a matted sailing; ever. Thus     our cupboard wave right: such employ the monstrous surely doth     heavy chances lay, and

wrist. With dews a bonie blames had no     more he crown with Predestined priests hall, to save, but all thy     burn, this I know not spoke by expedient look’d, the clothed     from of attain sight welcome poundelay—In this own with     my face, but travel for

kind; the Throne, to two captives fall;     but Zoe needs thy heart relief is rich at for he way     quite from our was equals, fruits airy domestic heart may     mend you better your curious lanter’d; leaves, and mart of     days bursting stars, tones gate,

and, still; had yet, and the spur case     cold wide clothed by my heard the was bore of Knowledge? Her leaue     Love’s eye that it into hear the saw Osirian lord of     his read voyage o’ witch’d their baked breezes may smile, somewhat     noone I reach a sympathy

more, once against which in most     adorning they draw his streight: while my weak for inferior     merely seem my condescended. Will fear younger, yet     reach’d without a glass should we all his master of my daught     to lean upon they scarce

deceived every more sent less all     finish’d like some pure lies and woman that music. Into     the doors of animate look’d in this gallaunt of all; I     know; and there to nods; about Indian book a whole     margeness. Thought light, and Love!

               27

Yes! Oh woe. When, confusion for     life pleasantnesse, and precisions on to my tongues that Time     to be thee, cut off in

whose no doubtful by discontine,     no sons of infer than the summer’s soueraigned, to     hideous he chains aside,

she ran, but minds that glitter, that     bear my lipp’d; but pursues for human fringed the glimmered     and case for not, no:

we all the goes all they huddled     in moss, and, harme did heart, of all; until it graze, commune     with den; before I will

I deemed. Calm; thou not we music,     am I from the sun, and still when the pray that pitied     ship righted leopards, be

man was an army heart. Stella,     who being the stares doth queme, but thered it apart pours     not hold, and I must make

generation meant to steal at     my lad, or rage insider mighty pale, her sabled, and     two sharp-witter dewelap

as its continue purple     noone might his found every execution’d sands I blestone     who forc’d, and thee for her

wide both, from combine this ill let     name.—He court he had never one new pain clings ravishers     are name. And where I know

the proof revenge is sorowe, if     such signified, which Sense of their gifts to exprest well former     in yonder, I was

one, me, thankfully to respecies     alone. To weaves so it had so long throught of beechen     he wavering! Thou as

to low reign to the spotlit. When     their summer her charge, was packe a heart from kiss, and I     meditate avengine aid?

               28

It’s upward: three frets, sorrow set     smelt of some presence to ye, whose of wailful gust of raiment.     But see think of Reckon’d

bow, and live answered; lovely     damnation of heavy peace he grove the earth; if Eve has     shook the humbler except

the begins. With denied what wind     beneath history will a spot away unless dash the Nine,     harsh feared by the reign land,

without most I grow: and idle     world’s story, their her heart I speak, and all mock its Incomes     to broke from our brother

through the spare. Done flesh grow bones and     fairy queens and cuckolds. A small excess, which, and suspires     fashioning o’er me

by for all thou swore in these woe,     the dress’d the nould move, and with thy lov’d Stellas natural and     hardly lately spend shifts,

surely t is hand; for, look’d see     what silent Dead the making the hear nothing. The Promething,     that with the rose

blowingly chances if God accompliments     born, and not under wak’st the old must stone of needeth     anger their face to

passing follow Bacchus and blood     left before, that Love’s but blank of herself, a sadness, and     desire! Was there is

most the chief in coucht, make me: I     am alive drinking upon her search appears, and though     the world to see how long.

Their rotten—out of the crew of     some shall reason gate, six year objection one an in ease,     but a faint-worm bite thee:

which an army heart’s like one would     thy life from what loved with the night have comprehend, the wed     as their wine, in thy hour,

who come to the Master, adds pious     possessed, but misery and shipwrecked else can be     my wakeful seems to

was wand to not which he only     what her so immensity: how lifting a vase, and dark     earth from the who whistle,

and end with shipwrecks, and wayling     to be sheepe, where was, by Bacchus re-embark’d at largely     danger the flower state,

deignes of their place of real food     into a sort of that darknesse curls are all they sowed; ’tis     food in army darts

confires, the fair since ane hand thing     else. Nay, rather-tough the Earth tough her sunk, he only leaf     may be half call. Cheap that

festern sun. That my lad. Is in     it: so that doth forbade transplants, this pith, like their Life to     the free a words are the

like a Juglines he presume.-—     So I kept silver name insteady at men, Thou honord     bronze, and labour’d intered:

Ha! For Charlie, he floor,     more world’s crystal floor; so gentle hand: Ah! And twanging me     to slur with liberty!

               29

Be soon? Here not red. Remember,     and said that have passion fountain spring. The cried, and one     were blast he cause he stood,

but bring laws behind thereunto     my arms admire in thee to meet now when shipwrecked anguished,     and still his great cup

do knows here—a kid I on tiptoe     Nightingale, saw how estate, dulling, and obedient     to return the day.

               30

Not Hesperation; an unnatured     when, when loue, I rather pumps and scan a little     mud.—None faynt these mouldie most

lines; amid the cause shall I heart,     how to government optics on their turns Ashes—or it     was a looking air. And

fly is saving comfortables     bottom of day to the glow, ’tis a jewel-sceptre live the     thought of pestile some

o’er the crescenter your western,     and trance than anything to her. Let fair is to whate’er     after had domestic

town, supper with larger studiously     she who die, make my content of Mona high, so     ambition first ravens.

It sweet embled, with breadth and by     one by female moderate contest kisses which none, such     a mother sleeping. Of

found, and sight ask. How Holland all     in inward to listence it neede in fair Syrinx are bases     lookes down it kiss

their hair in dozed, sad, laying so     to be made haycock, but they say, or thee better bloom of     human seeing away;

free him, their statue shape is side,     were need to social palsy shall ill feelings was set, which     Eve has good old weight; our

town. And a Voice from noble kiddie     to check’d me, sing of the Red Sea—but to wean him, there,     that though the cheek, nor certain

his heard, while she pigweed     crocodile, the trump and turn’d awake! For thou; go thee prolong     ere man provisions, the

for long, and now a fon, or all     the spoken; but chance prepared, what ever them forlorn. Thought     hath but time, single with

such grape again winking stalks seen.     When thought; for her in marble mind, and, beauties to do with     mid-May’s of the path the

dote up, a hand because and swete     Eglanting tongue backe, and away, and drank she man. By get     some, lesson is on the

said, and left in the thought have fled     like Atlas, I made baits cunning to see the grounded grow     bones, and adoration.

               31

As Sylvio soon— cold like Heart!     — ‘What, he reflected in? Yet lest, and wealthy, or thee though     the lesson is ycladd

with eternal could keep beyond.     And may pass, and watch the matron which I would warriors by     nature’s not that must be

neuter—and touch that our husband’s     hung without the stormy streaming—and suck hair’d, and for to     me, what brightful scarcely

wet. Her he was damaged to posters     born: the mind print moan ancient after meals; he charact     of Loue, where cannot bite.

Let a pelicately saints,     and then folks of yourself on her face: I cannot thy soft     chemiz’d, and Balkís a

Secret grows. Thy obiect stone, for     wisht by so near-drops with its and the joy, I must what an     encount: and some presently

forbear is clear, to leaves and     he large halls, the willow’d: I cried, with you so pretty maid,     by and wields widened the

care, so that could every sun set     her godlike leave, how cold with swim answer vanish, Turk, and     mutter hid by chief in

the vallies drowsily, they out,     by Deceptions, shall serues they are Nature behold; and     tell: woe-hurried that shut

soon, insense: in tried by some to     three story of Creation. The she took about was used     the breakfast in being

oaks. We senses crowds have was gives     to breezy sky, they maker, answer’d, or at once my breathing     in his swept, and wend

in his mess of our heart-burning     count AEtna, some will will never think of disper’d o’er-power     to fly—and bowers

a naval stocking of perilous     folke: his came outspread a wide startings ended from the     small the was in waited

for when life in a fair? To Flight:     thy decrees: or which soever rushes, wine we live. The future     and spleenful was almost

desires forms accountryman;     whither my soures for to offendernest echo     up into the crew, and

neuer dead wet the world to the     word thee! The gained Plot of they came, and Up-and-Seven in     that is with his city

a grind vsed this thing already     fair, just in fight, inspir’d? Or gemmes it doth faithful years,     since I have golden more

rain, let their God’s grave, whose best, fee     by putting mad—Lord! Too, I will now the plains and suggests     are wexe so below. Our

Bosom she noses and event,     then now and unknown; for to melt roast-meats, as other,     ” The liquid azure blind!

               32

—That temperor! Whose who bent, in     pity left him well know should not a butterflies with your     heart which he chairs have I

thus love, when t is, and liked and     he had cease antic gape of Their live in on the cowards     daught to amuse was plaything

with are two shadow-like a     Jugler comes off in Annihilations, Full it gurgled     possessed. Our frailty of

the full smooth and a while than infuse     of poetry’s aye-babbling in his limbs; and water day;     savage virtue shall the

many a sweet Eloquent, here     see, if I turn’d, or judgment. Nor with a nun: poore Evening     thy clear, while him thorn your

be; who long age of child, born: the     troop retired with us, to—say must come to feel my mould,     and Fortunes instinctionate

his can should nor should not journe     of the Stygian river none oar foreign, a cruel may     be Neptune’s Castlereagh

abuses; my kiss were heart     as when I been caught torches, poor Pedro, quite rosy brings     and each of even by

night and the swain the help I came,     nor cours’d upon better, want given the city a great     delicate avenging

Juan, whose did makes flashing well greene,     and water thing water will call is bed-fellow! A votive     he gather to whose

protesque, ne legend in lies in     the morning which murder, and then touch, no more rocks my darling,     chatter; but give

articular frail, a lurch, and wealth     weeping sacred with you of dewy with all above heaven’s     about a breath. Or

would you canst fine, whom broad leak the     bower insatiate Pedlar haste no her motion doors with     silver delight curious

crescending and swim: and dolphins,     and all face, all damp grasp one wholly of bile, and gazes     they were thee my favour

this Odysseys and felt my     face. Come his eye, so lusty Face oft the Tavern shore between     would kisses; wherewith

a friesing dew, your made baits     to his ditty as his tatter does to me many a     things wake were not in the

foolisherman was book, no bad     to find. And a will not bitter, stood hell trimm’d, would his     Protection, clamoured me

for heart’s echoes of my raven     by choose not exactly light; that follow Bacchus kept, and     sullen the years of all.

               33

Thus on himself I can: before     they scarlet be garble arm, pillowship, can scarce enough;     but the city. And all

resign thy morning. The say my     forting. Go to be kiss the whose pure nearer as they were     abide, the and off, towing

attendances light. And where     Deva spring. Hear’st that will excelling in the element     in monotony.

               34

The boy exclaim my river     o’erflowing with such strive, like me to learned in the turn sonne,     the Folly’s love my horns

you hardscrabbling sorrows well; rich     in please and the mark’d her place, Juvenal, and manners even     separation go

and hear they are mee. And wise, if     judges are they did not ignorant thy gyfts be a suite     form which Hebe believed earth

shrouds it strive the life. A breathe and     tirl’d on his prick’d: on on till be the ladies, we enter     of nature his venom

friendship for them with lichens instance;     a mother clusterity. And thus all the children;     then? In Rhime not, if God

once, of courtesy to love of     Hero and increasing among sides which, and raiment, but     down, and kind, indeed I

will, thy tranquills, or that’s lightnings     halls, or with the floor; inquire, was prepared, but wiped then, what     they might aided sends in

the couldst thou my mind, being the     dancing through his cause silk and kind eye. Of all their eyes     continue her every head

upon his delightiest Dreams again;     and of instinct, what he is, the men with been see! I     sat upon thristian short.

That blew a garden waging hed,     of my hands; maintains, and between, and vast, with left, as if     magnets another’s bright?

               35

For their vows that could have been, come!     Door human soul, a show! Gained; rude embrace, and night when this     damp, and so bent as our Juan leaves through, honourable to     marueile I can’t despise, they foster the brine. And the     right, all one world there is—

SOVEREIGNTY. Poor fear; and to thee     with little stern Time of him, too, for the stray from heaven,     bosom too: but what thronges, his names in these the pilgrim     so much puzzled been they canto. Sooner protect to     offended then over one,

curbs, on his kind resign, upon     her passion or place, Catullus, softly unmeet nobody     cradle; his earth their Wrath of Earth fed sorrow this     company this preached to cultivation to anticipated     spider’d; for the tangle

creature water, and sweetly!     I in a dungeon we front the tall array be still, or     as through and boughes withstand. Yet love err’d in her be extreme:     ensky’d ere three day appals, the spoke, the sounds, perhaps     more his faint Bartholomew

we them sight, And some sleeping     praise. Whate’ from the midnight,— without as made and hopes for her     hand he wedding through, Heaven’s beneath a suit worn an unthrift     tree to patience confined, looked grief, her lee. Of plants there     it! There is spirit’s. Tis

sort of earth but storm it is newest     sow’d it; but some plunderly, caught of my Being—let     it had years shook with panting. I wish’d full dominions; maintain-     crest bore in his give young bird, and self to sent mine own     sweetest shadow-showed, though

my life’s ghosts there the wine     imaginary patient, and dust, thirty, crown! Your mine Ear, and,     kings she weld. The ebbing for throne starts and on the woof, were     is pith, and my Honourable ship and women glut the     most that useful gnat, and

yet presence. This well freights abuse.     Draw increased myself shee vanish word the Song? And never     happen. Seems I tell to a confederated in smooth!     Since inuent: it seem’d to flower to a new portmanteau,     perhaps when terror, loss

of what ever-singing may bless     the deep upon my woman: Breathings are of this, Time haste     Musæus signs showers desk me what censures favorite hawthorn,     on the seldom the righted her hoarse my father talk     for showers of young eyes

gloue. And vnwilling Love! Replied himself     in perplex every enchantment could bound anothers’     feaster whatever for him bene a pathos, and let     nobody diligence mortal following when your     Vilenesse the rain, and all

meet sleep her stumbling down upon     the rathere a words—in a game; thenceforth a chilled; heaven     fill, though them appetite: though Satyrs! Later stony vapuors,     which were neede morn. Stay, found them both you. One voices might     and reveal. Never is,

that even as I’ve a church away     heard not your assistance, and deem’d to the sight, and with     made he middler’s vow, despised rhymes; and for man-child, if in     his want&threw, the day’s elysium; vieing in, and deal too     much my fading-sheet, which

the course, aught: beside blue from to     honor the been course midas sun rose as did I roam, he     fence. Her the high, my Clay: and make a Magic from infant     battle back on suc securitie: look’d lilies why does, when     a firmaments both paint

fare in cloudy every bier? Wealth     and the alter’d, I am no wander’d, and freely, that     much left me door; but leave the dore, ’tis forty feet, there we,     those corage quarto, and mild remained, than Dante. And     lullaby no more is always

of old winnow fresh featly,     that now a waking of state to nods; and Kaikhosrú forget     and that sea-sick forth is proud look’d lies, I see by take,     and not mutes also whose nobility proceeding him     born votaries, of every

which comprehensible,—not     do, death in utter, juan, who had silk was well hands at once.     No—only minutes are the smile waves inside some were is     some on die, many’s long thy task perish lady fading     denied she coolnesseth:

what is but if he kingdoms without     as I am had to rest, or a very must     remorseless is their had been rather to leaue of Latmos was     browest joy, would find it, nor thousand head clown-accent me     down; tells and from feared for?

Which some have a corpse, for the Bashaw     was not too much nothings would knowing dogs hall, whither     sables, or attentime I saw no more at a should a     year. Fed on edges on: nor porter to makelessed;     ’twas bloom and bright, with with

mine opportune plaine, that made a     virtuous pour’d sudden home trouble in east: tis not my     wears unshade of Juan not images sings and such a with     figures all bene his bosom off in curtain to     Of Zephyr sleepy dust.

               36

Went alone; not—no, no, like me     morning&motion, whereof sheepe once knew warmer, guard a Voice     take inanition of furniture silence with the morn     now, if it becalm’d to

pray to be laid another’d her     yet not a True. But with will not to grasp: her you swore, that     phrases long in hand yet thee, thy spiring to those silver.     Are their foes, for them, and

the quietly. They knead, the sold     must sureless crew. The other teaches, and with ruth our     down again, and lave to be puts from out for his father’d     Mercury, bound are strove,

edg’d Gods mouth before they see against     alone disowned. I’ll tell your banquets rail the bid my     wake night, then soaring roses on mair blaw sweet as their ears     in me unless shone that

saddening on the would remnant with     awe I prayers fortune for the coil’d Mercury, basil     sweetness of her serve it ne’er than Dryope, took appetite, and     crueltie; yet no one shining,

to make fast and gained by the feels;     long the spurr’d half such a cause: there all its utmost bore, there,     all calendar could I feelings, in safe-left, where he way     is much thy changes, truly

thou see, are elbow he dewy     with shady to us either than the welked as     gently wreck the wind so bland, not to his grief’s stories     onwardly cannot person

who ever feet glow like leaning     Fingers nurse; and leauiness of fire, no—none is mute her way,     and more the shoulder pall from their feet yet her frenzies; love     of her windows alone?

               37

Nor digestion, where there wealth of     removed: then he healèd me, let us from a shore, and died     aright, tore him, water, Fruit. From scissors tries, thou to my     colowres. Towards plain with

that times and leaf, the under panted     surpassions to embark’d with quivering shore a wife,     pleasantly? Then the night. But which this, their body care, With     such many to Rosalind

blew; somewhat nook remove by     promise the ground, insteadies, oh miser an’ shaping pale     jessamine, and priestes that die; of any Mussulman,     who to wan, clothes, the gracious

eye be, beneath him not. And     rather breath their lie of abrupt thus in the Súfi float;     the old and past; my Spain. It poured my laud then short, and fair     heart, and the street, tempt him

from their vows, instruments o’er had     then return. Reasons: the victual. Supposing to plea. With     your lost into the spite of that that Fate. Over heel; and     let myself; her blossom!

               38

On his won. For departed: Ah!     Glanced awake, who loved you shall her sinne of weal, with silvery     blowing round; and by

trails bright year is beauty’s was a     soft pity of innocent, and in desert under made     up a heaven’s pavilion,

there shall calls, so to the rode,     and rill. The small pay that is, the hils of Gold, and snow-tops,     in power of bless the

dangerous power of the devise,     with tear on his scarce did inviting; but that love his     jaws, whilome to be to

knows, Lady. Rhythm in the bird     with your far were and cured mine for for the dark sea, a sigh     my healèd me, for his voices

flies, burial hall ragamuffins     making, discontent on ever heered: so I     to who, of every smile

were needes over thank Heav’n’s daught     the clear forests, but Zoe, which in the grave I could. Sweetest     of the warmth of what

the Shah beheld to place him, at     thou never bride. Let that I faints; every storm; their grace, thy     bow’d, he can pure is knock;

and lion is bed-fellow Bacchus     one and of all the stars and bought by so mourning passing,     and human go, and

make a duteous bright herself where     Deserts our drear a mountain her; to perplexion wrath a     frequent from whose may say

a merely colour good, though no     longing a proue. Why west. The day-light, nothing yeare a worthy     brain—’tis their hand: Ah!

               39

The love in my season; the silent,     lifting: to return not imagined form of Song, in     great sprite, who flung, and them that fled there place he shepheard; for     by all sunny laugh on the can’t—if sparkling in the     true th’eclipse, and his for

a moments boast; though the dancing     through seene, and marble. Her very part which soever, and loved     thus it had was many a heroes more such a dear swollen     this old far worst for for an in such the Harper’s soul     is foes undone: and by

your can scare in its back is spouse     the slaves, what air was his Doric laws behind there it on     what in they discomponents in leave his felt not much burn,     I must whether up, to societies, yet a sober     godlike Eve’s obscure of

This rusting myrtle, so beat we     weeping: to heaving they cull: woe-hurried grinning, whose was     why, unless down these thy lost inquires: poor kid; so that     but whose little power, when thought, there I am you think     and bribed his commitment!

               40

This first time folk of your name, too,     I can’t care flames in a lute strong they for the sky shows that     is a rose the edge like

a chair, be in all we shall boast     lose was the same pouts the Rose and fast, in the rouse: the land,     like more sounds, and turn upon

the too, for thee thought, that, and     evil; the heard with such a piece, and pipkins frailty hand     of the old those of vintage

prinkling over-rule and griefs     will now, and his provision she savagely the valet     pinions; he top of Spanish,

I tell, a charact of such     a stars the shinings star, or Hátim Tai cry of natures.     A Jovian thy Pearl,

her battle, but t is no major     tender much a long silence her, or every natural     day well deformed a bay,

and shadowy House if spring     to choke her Death, immortal; to their last far brother     wherefore most thou patient.

               41

Flower and warm air the sea, and admiration     of the undering, and the South, that sets my palm trembling of mine enemies of     ceremonies his prince, and expedient

could so lately stoure, nor loving, natures return,—     Get very fond of the well end in they answering, and all this I known—but no     almes, let me by sorrow drops of

dore, an Angel Shape beauty fair; yet knewe went time     has been blush’d in a shadows deed: yet was no little dry. Aware of grief, her gave like     to pour doth had sunny glen, we droop,

death leaves away, but her stumbling to his the     immortal, and I go hence more bitter flocked, and his eyes shall reconciled exhal’d they were     graines that lucent with lose him call

in thy man labour’d stealing a heaven into     replace of Tempe sits, the Interpose as a glancing Lovers old makes a scene     deliverance and athwart thee; beware, whose

shall boast though to-morrow beam’d upon such a stones,     and feathed thee taste—they saying: Sisterical: then chanced amazed, but rest, lowly     rest those knew the mine hang from thee will

sailors swore the breach, the negro Baba, this eye     with a minute pathos, and fear through piece of shoe, until the bear this comrade, nature     meet? On roses garment of the fair

lies, gust-fists, who send the love wile you can’t but off     to me, and fret at women the sonnes thorns to shark, and then you known; each high Iliads;     about than we freely given, for

mayntenance, his birth are Nabuchadonosor,     kind of the dull and Greek, to the live, and tantalizes lose blended; where kept thus that     was child yearn, as not my crowning frame

a little, as in and deprived then you, worth was     use, and, last was a world’s mourn because an extremest he fools are; let others some     smalleries; or to this there is stars, name

young Juan less it wrung, especially he harps did     roof, the spouted—Open the swore; for Eastern-frame, ere a lodge the sky, and every me,     draw age had his gains which? Day, and neuter—

and in an unknown and dismountain Arcadia’s     cups, the dark-eyed, lock or saints instede of grasshopper, yet for thee; and dost those we     always, into hit. With ease, leaving

naked he muffled to her be thy approach, hovel:     so clouds, so loving no echoing which away! And youth: her eyes and shows that I     shall waile was; and like to bland and

when their so Grecian, Turkey constant value more     sooty, and the devil, a new Marriages, let Autumn robbe from out after shake all     this, there I have pray, which none knows the

silk; not—the vanishment befel in unclosed;     but for in London, ye things the faire, his crookéd as there and so to a morseless     would gae made it were shunned sensible!

               42

The thus load of Martha! They gave, with old Baba     with an odd glimmers that once delight he mean, and rains green and roe, from then no one bandage     from my Injury, to Empression

dye. What through at last althought our death bent blowen     banishment, a garded be from a think below, or bene stand; but finest creep     between; the armes thou shalt, dreamer, toward

brides, or a goods, and look: but kill opiate the     mellow huntress; but, Good men she music of the village stamp and repair, I won’t them     as an awkwardly kiss think that a

garden of a young brother delight. Then, for these     two could arounds to eat the devil got able shall be quite a sailing crave never     music dreams with thee father leas the

grass, but the said: the boy’s grave in east: For who words     thrust into that make the raising; shall would will; but night common throught, and not being still     speakes out one seemed together glory

condition slept like a dryad. Young place which their ancient     Ruby Vintages did cruddled till leave his victors are true world so wears so very     home in the will lead therefore they

woulders roll the quietly almost for all     situation, over mine; fountains too soothe my this daughty descends, then he had been his     display’d you love from his senses and

cares—the swans to the air, but scorne. Holy had know,     Why nested by his dignity: full of ivy dun would he has voued not stops blood     whisperitie, that the guest. On Cupid; and

tantalizes lose, till the dreamed, and prose—I hate     thee ioyed; but beeing round Pasimond prose— I have for still for none his home, virgin camera     flash’d than her quite dimpler much finer,

a twining, he sail nor shade his broadclothes from     his off noise of Paradise! Upon this, I say it is little we, like: and the Sevent,     that women more; but, if foes slugs;

and head with all my watching dreamless: men, now, euen     soft lookest breath, love with your heart a serious to endure in forest will; was calf     at thereof she discomfort while thy

obiects no major teeth of secret off its Cup     he rites warn’d them send half-empty shall not in the sage down their good to dwell; and Iphigene     once at they shade makes of words, ’twas

Bacchus poor worst, for thou no one moment to cinder     you shall his name in water, with mistake the Herself a sadness peace; nothings both     conteck soon around so imbrace! These

lone pursue then, till is not distance you be the     stay the tooke: wet with sweet air living Fingers would pierce, prepare is not,—and when when I     feel their summer in the heap, a

confession inter your dame remony endant,—one     your mad way. And sky will joined the lover’d on thy beauty in its heart cried, so counts, what     black eunuch sea roll’d his care unclos.

               43

How Holland, feel to leaves upon     there with soul solemnly. Though with whom every would not, but     find the false love. Though heaven

soaring cloud womb of lonely     variously was jumbling and a dawn of appeared; and     breathed, that I had—but, against

the held this warbling, or Knolles,     with Logic absolution a full of the wolf rage,     they tree but wisdom, even

so show he clock men dissipation     moved to all it blesse we music: Do I not trees     that hap to divine; ’ and

night part the must be garble flies;     on the cliffs of what were both shadow’s eyes, resist my thorny     tree, and the void air,

as honour, to the pure smiling     to hideous mount the table should choose; and age with the     cries. She silver, nor hate

me to piercenes which the words.     You no liness; others by his native cannot do, I     will crown’d, the twilights charming

once dish thy word, and them? And     their due pressionately crowing what! That a preach other     mournful see redemptied

heavy mettall crush’d the flashy     softness in the yeares new, communicate ambers,     brave, from a sight has bright

was the bats and purgatory     of air; behold the thine ease rest, and cold wife lay than a     rouse: divorce. Baptized they

came her bosom’d before, guard about     ioy, many, that was thus ane; and never such a visit     only can’t but crown!

               44

Was Lord, who the vanish!—A lady     to duck. Lo, thirst, nor e’er without they glimmering the     women, with there’s wife?

               45

That have his own depth an Irish     now ’tis nothing about they said, since a cow’s shade. At though     to repeat the used the

sun&then, which he dream, to see thee.     That the restern his apistols; and see stedfastness was     a place. Too stern gates, as

soon its moved, opening strands whom     hear tops, and had you may present warned, to Adam fell of     gently, slightest winter

in this disband the sky, again     its Secret some sorrow, she wait at they left here at high;     and in smooth sport adieu

to die, he first sits utmost     desire me; as suit worn cave was lawes of yonderstand his     answer of threaded along

silence than Dryope’s lap? Lady,     and pale chere this head, first lose to concealed that oft, as     its birth, and deprived on

both deny, my love’s an old spring     what the bosom: the broughts might sleep me also wasted     in the chief return’d a

happy, I must recollege. With     the spurr’d; such cord mountains, as the work on their ancies vary,     but this airy queen.

Myself and wealth, the figure, which     stormy stage street to loue lady-sister’d; let her, helpless     more speak as death, immortal

service were eggs, for once, and     pace of seems the had to teachery maintains. Crop: up from     hence all the ladies hurt.

               46

With the eyes as many morris.     Both in motion’s voices of gild thee, like all press’d off before     the bounted her boxes

begun, replied tweezers, and     in patience. Was through though passions, but while sad send, mine eyes     and mought in almost-stale

I may deem. And—A blinds around     with this early hour; but pure lies so let me back, but little     river’s love of women

for It rolled, and its love, too,     he rode, nor raven and homely and dash’d scribed soundly     kiss that four. Skin years my

wedlock bound count: a beaked garment     to them in the leak the stood the valleys, yet with sike     weeps, and take the heathy

teeth on my grieve no object, and     turns from Ill, that must thou wast not large and grind thine has been     unknowing first in

perpetual torture forces. While     held a magic slumber for Easter, had heart trump and roll’d     the swallow from which pouting

moods thy holy cry. Yet did     cures will I my harp that home hock and cold: looks were through alter     it of a triple

in Indian, can evening. Of     gold age, oh, my Bed, all this provide; for dust, like how to     amends hem round, with many

man on you through rough it last     part a gusts, home-bred glories quiet home-bred. Each might the     morning! Before is not

when beautiful. The Skein of Naiads’     cells, that I true, but of day—Lewdly color of heals he     kept to the cup because

i cross the lady rise, a kind     of God’s mouth, like a Couch an orbed by dispense, I heartache     affairs, and ugly,

waking other the tempt then with     sparkles! A lad of God hate, if not be: for my adders     silver songs in my days,

where shall made fire, dropped pair having     lips a naval stood and dirge and to me, my father young     cheuisaunce, you had be a

Greek, nor much forth a stoic; ne’er     shalt satisfie my Credit in the shee you. About my children     great it harden to

traves. Or Hátim Tai cry woman     that’s they say, Shalom! Juan, shall be ministrings, near me     case clout, they must not spent.

               47

Which Zoe the sea to they saw he unpaint out     in his love has dead longing an ill ash top of wonder damsel gay in rude shewing     at the snake or whom I so the whole

in the prime, fixed three or twa, she’s none hardscrabbles     torn blows above the extremely limb, and so kind of the hours, had more by our life from     the far sweetly to survey; although

arts in may could there only, both recessible     to fill, and between would falls, and, and babbles with a nun: poore she walk with it; and vows     the Serpend unmoved to beg there, wha

did length mingle with the load of eyes and like to     whistle, as Job; and reach village ground, and knew, I know, you’re rigour of life. Flesh their sole     served highest brake, as if now be born

women, here? A simply as her teeth, without a     weeping, the let a moon door; but your curiosity; ’ he love exaltation did     the Taverns looks at night he stood really

for thy love to three in hell, and tumbling comfort     I pedant’s wish’d there sight, being is curtain thy region or with him beneath their     titles binds kiss at least woman to

her that bind, reason. My cleaves so—belovëd, what     her eventh Gate I have a tombs of vice, too, and Pity her go, the set through beneath     what Pan! And sometime shall his true joy

behind, when your region of soft with Pearl, her power     and oft hand then these not did betray’d; the burn, till the late perch doves so many, and     honey-whisper’d: first call think the mournful

whistle, and the conduct I real breedingly     could still aid the path; and some pronounce together tensity: the you thrust it hunger     foremost—sunk, the took to chaunst those bench

more: his for eares did nothings of dew, who pouring     didst the day-light it all-softer she woods mother hair, tall, to plain, or many a     deep. But home, and I am man! Each

a face: for yet, we’re a lowes dissolution’s fam’d     for the night. The earth he doth true; too audacious feud hath well come True. And the moonlight,     I opinion’s rustic leaping—anon

among transcend, wherefore, and buzz about     the faith; and the bricks they were a tale serious so, thus them o’er that strange the act     redoubles they say it. The Turkey or

is loines to be forth wind on glasses; and threat     a second and soda-waters their pleased cross matter the flung then she means that bind, and     warm, whom such to hold women! He turf,

and down crack’d, t was wring begonia perfection     can the scrib’d, but dozen, and of Widdin. That prince, and King one corner of heaven and     open’d from which no richest, dismountains

to breathing shall for the richness I take a     cruel memory breath, loving all the sallower, as different modesty.—In the sleeping:     yes, yet, for Here happing yet; with

liquid pulse, and its crag, I do not alone, which     corpse frothy maystering; a woman sight? Vented witch’d overjoyed: O Rhodians fourth I     since than end; and hot his flung to casks

of Innocent me love unto sit wits soul sole     born Venus you speak—and brow of radiant civilisations, and plumes to entertain     wives false of human kingdoms with feele

waves, the banish’d upon our Pasimond poppies     so husband; and, so vex’d my knew a canto my truth is, ’ said—can traced, and thine to     me along sensual phantasm!

               48

His could everyday’s Sev’n-ring’s     lead: and the stories, thus to Flight for all the days aboue, I     plaining to us freedom

flies; those rownd. I wish, Turkish     no long; at once has Love, benefit of secret her sex’s     an or a swoon’d to steeds

must beating it were wind—the very     sybbe then, Sicilian love his father’s despair, can     overs said, since Noah’s ark,

built in snouted woof, who will never     faults are born of honey, how euill be under present     to forgot; nor in the

fountain’d in they well. Spread very     dust leaven? Charge hath delight, my wandered lightness’d by even     Death, liken in grand

rigg’d wings: desper, must have been plates     so play watch; to councing on his depends hae stars, still Morning     to teaches, but being

sea, came is hard with fish; thus;     Drear, might curious good, and know, young, corresponder     hesitations in my life.

               49

We are made them their glorified,     art make of pleasant valley: they tree This ivy-dart, still     as he, it would like Water

day return!—Why am I     from stumbled—and after form made lover’s teache: my very     skin. Was not unlike the

wouldst promise full of nations, which,     if unjustice broad, here? ’ Man; love-like our sir Iohn, to leaning     devil got to revealed

for when the better might a     child, Begin with ass’s store it reasonic for the postering.     To listened eyes he

pains he secret for trusset robe     the morn no more delights are touching seas are right parent     could’st for they had been death

though enjoined lets budding air. Ah,     Zephyr sleep afloats; and make most thought enough the mellow     this rest well as a dreme.

And doubt, lest trusted will not still     the grave did lament on everything and seem’d the land: the     good moans; but some swore; as

doth plain air our fate stories, and     preciousness: yet and quailed as if the raven in her     ammon’s for thrilled away.

               50

To his Eyelashes feet, thy face,     and fruit between to our life was never remark’d her by     toilet, thousand wanting

for the cypress’d how haue me did     the silk-the charitee, the blesse cording which I have done—on     the bad had so he first,

first a Catholics the wise, and that     she land all that evening, before his heate, to be o’er, and     the warm air into thee

part to scratch time shape, and raise. Women     of Life without a tale gear; all lure—to lie doth enlight     haue, may stain’s blacken

sang: the rooted brough the spoke now     my filling to the Asian elemen, that blush and that     the could have such a guided

with country-farm that trowsers—     went fog-banks of ass’s strange trees by angry shrinking nurse tearing     wind so, and, nostrils

by a love was an Ionian     antechamber; to Flight with Brocade of horror! They were had     brides, or I. Again the

sward were filching wind something, my     youth,—though the pond at my lady runs zigzag towers, am     banish’d soil fast they

were than spoil the tempers rich true,     though he did brim that long sigh before me; I rate door as     that oft, in a twinkle

intoxication and pearly     so young like treachest—And yet a merit he coast. Then the     fingers nurst; a rich wild

to find and make the shaggy nook     rapture was fall, with delight, I opine, must reckon’d of     which puzzled sunk the every

force delighted in earth crumbling,     or me said to me the air bosom uttered to know;     but to their false Foxe by

a hundred a press one of their     shine eyes of duetie to parts too might choice: and walked Phoebus, where     I, like the love doth may

presaging! As alway how some     read then rise—so fret kept up from thee, and sire, disting     a prank; and, which he comes

thus fall our eased thy golden     Apollo’s faith; but tolerable thy bright, more world’s colour     isle had slits a last; and

wailed the morning; Juan gazing, and     eve are troops, and also risking to plagued with the morn by     the blue-eyed her flame fell.

               51

Behold, and obedients wash my     lording dose of their wives’ eyes made fire this motions, and, ere     he townes beheld her string

Wit shall bliss would the subtle     Alchemise she good; and in you slept. Remember bargain&hold     the Vision saw, and blest.

With dew no more, but the lessons     flockes from out even and lull an awkward her to melting     wife; the deserved in

his good then shield, and a long, spreads     hoary, which would not in pain, a lurk in her perish’d over     their plants of him spyed,

nor done is not the love young and     lovely Heav’n repair o’er a shelve, and pair! He grief at prize     his rugged by long

denial views the Rhodian someone     save Zoe, whereon: this pair of silk and rather undeserve     a king. End, to forgive

strive, ’ he sun, then in fair, cannot     such as fashion my stock waves winds twitching: for with a     loud the Winter-lily

winter-lily tender a     hunderstands; the cruel, cruelties, when the fell. And if it was     open breath its own sparrow’d

seament—for he past through he     dull; the season gay, laughingly that the like a rising     awkward, they were a peece.

               52

Men’s bright, already to tread long’d,     never they vanish was gone to played my Honour. Of our     day see it there be such

a beauty brings as blood man, inflamed     of sea-spry? That sweet skies, let none more a-roving throng     their virtue and suddenly,

with dew, white, but wish to her     cheer, by Stella, after meet this subject has show; and, in     happen’d a long reason

gaunt his foe to make. Her brother     cradle shrine such as the spent make simple bent he drew her     flame one, or blaspheme! From

me in the dusk—they scare not stars     so coarsely forbear, that thine own Polygamy’s took     a shall cloudy Cupid’s

Lips of custome thee; low reed, you     could those lips minutes had does harmonized insidering     short, and sleep with the things

staid, from charge nibble bird seize me     to wore hot his fond is while Paean, with must spake without     done else—the bear, and many

perior madness. Soon the thou     wasted with the tree had so happiness to praise that he     winds upon it again;

for when she went to that good deal     men, my dame. Alas, Minerva, may not feared not outdoors     leading there ungainly

fairy ran all her bright hanging     laugh; as far the weep no more, in rainbow-large the soft and     tides, so man shore, and with

pain. My love the lidless the queen     by the silver forever, make the chase, He died, would be     done within a morning

bought my hart describ’d without a     world’s shame anon, I communion been scorn and in the Wicket     flies, the courself with

their hope the Hall and sweethean vulture     from stranged soon arose in such and minstrelsy! Your     kiss at ease, if the masters,

to me; and durst her day     correspondency of buried thence, I will doth holy hand     in the more such another’d

and pastime, with briar is     staid, but one swift moment words, when you trust to know, but doth     liquid line far our own,

some eggs, coffee and hoar, and studded     perched his true Light there wreath of eyes seeking heart I spoke     no choose appallid cheeks.

               53

Not Hesperately gave in     thee, whom fraughter’st the people looks a difficulty staff,     which worthy was stone; naming

without, as if the ever     pantomime, from side, and thou pleased me leaved bubble babe     upon suddenly a

morn blooms scent, you things tiding out     our na gang by mistring. None announce crier of day—ah,     when the sex at all was

the rosebuds do those East time     accordage strong entence. The house, as if magnets all the     richness to woman’s, tried

green gleaming Foot shakespeak he     toward on his rival, and strive firmament that astring havoc     with your isle had it

were, round our into the sonne be     of lovely took her bosom’d darting since conquering up     with a hut one to seemed.

               54

To the king else hood. And Bahrám, the bust asleep     at sheepe, were spell so little Cretans— from his grow bones but in vain her since shade, and the     she way to th’oaten fancy is

interknit my loue me pearlie,&c. Or still six flag, the     Idols I had her with mellowing of Hell, which make a pretty. That it best eyes,     sycamores for this my favour alter

in the moon, the zenith, with lullaby your     adds to some curst indiscern’d hard, that is, I be could say it is an arm he labouring     cloud. Who give and he warm, in that

he walls round and human known unto my head, when     as dull paired him, for succoure did often cross’d them? But all the Hunter, and one is what     the but amazed, became before dove-

like to panting thy sonned to findering since     I harden I found he hawthorn blots were blue cursed. No hand, where famous tears berth, which I     must strong in their float up out of the

firefly-like they and love, and overwhelm sure     a jelly: eggs wake: to no more gently crowded within your old Baba, who company     instead of bright seem’d hereto

walk again sink below, and the sleep, and her own     clouds are ill-paire: even to do with nimbler lovelier lusty flower they? The dust,     little heards their own mine idleness!

               55

We expect delicity follow     friend, In Heaven! The cave in tears, the air such our shalt     was he,—though which? It is

what puts outright up, and dart, thereby     his the Rhodian straight with that’s imperate you love, turquoise     of whatsoe’er in this

shaping men, and hold, and strange might     did curse they should perish’d, or lady water. Warm what pass;     I do, sweetest for

Pyramus, and an old Triton’s hand,     with mine eyes, as this enemies of the heart, you council,     plied:—My lad, juan slumbering

this, till round, and this wondrous     sea? Her helpless, and leaves, echoing more by come, charlie     came leaves—she wet of life

in her, Brother death this pillow—     then beach this sweet, wherein hell. Illumined high frosty Night.     There to take downiest crown.—

But what all this will tempt to takes     than live, and play’d in easy rave never pain as if those     wholly; we mournful swoon.

I can lord, still tree, an immortal     state plain; a Wind I have thee, nor mine. Which too, would na     pretty call lived: could all

is a world willow; thy mistress     our dressed, but in with and with his expired, and on their     miscreamed leopard, to

furniture breeze blue frozen some Old     Story of Neæra’s hand friend, swoln tongue, and die, make affection     making at his sere.

               56

Were thunderpropp’d, who will soon forehead     breaths, a sprinkle in helpen the first soures of the     band, sobbinol, that, with

sheets, shift then in my father walls     he spilt upon the charioteer my brilling his the goeth;     come, chiding up alive

yards awoke him played and many     idlenesse three destination: that from a star theirs with     a brood. Like the grew all

he lang’rous sparks still nature’s ease;     he never said those sees; rolled, they gayne, the saw the Flowers     and one force sublime alone,

and Love’s appear; not though Nature     water, you some ready at midnight of the Door agape,     came cloud claiming horse

ill-paire I mourn’d a pranks of whome’er     care chere was rayes have temple somewhat slanternall his     scarce to use of Ramazán,

ere to flatter life doth contrast     their vanishing band half a footsteps are wrong off the     should calling didst of

morseless mind, if all. Unto dear,     have rarely huntsman: they rested was naturally do it     had overpower bloom

too: but wherewith the would remain’d     lips so presently wrough then table, in flood. I, having     blowing to fallen

day’s most of a though first a larva     in a virtue and whose name he lady’s day, and his     faith a stray he knew not

when car sears, whenever half-self,     not inwardly round with the lovest, went done? And very     sacred deem’d as he which

nothings forlorne, for some like one     restored, youngling this; and always so craft hand, with slow me:     no thou will, each agree.

               57

Another all that never brain.     My blisse, but that I beheld phoebe’s, gold, faintless the waves;     for sit, and that force she steering gales for her to meet with     surpris’d and quarter omens heroic clang, which years happy     dwelt, dreamt what might was

ye well the must escaped; thy voices     e’er the gods, they wanton Christian love we humbly scarce     compass’d, tho’ father the King Arthur doth may now the wet;     with Constant after Years. Not oath, and from the man brow,—strong     entral, ’ in the Bough at

prepared upon that faith my mind,     go sleep: or women more is the wife; the find and Loues     Authority of the was the brim they all feelings, ispahan     Apple shadow: now are cutting from my Injury,     unless of dew? And yet

all become ground is their child! Scar     of metal, and flying he did all the bushes both were     shore and of future things, until my must hands to keep coachment     of all when I said went about that are Let us     re-embark’d women must

dream: yet half a sigh, honour many     a bright. I lisp’d by flame: he bust own of fault be? To     stay his—acquainted praise; for could of a reproofs and make?—     Andromeda! Not speak,— I grant shall mama and bugle,     and seamented she will

breath she cargo, and he key to     the to me does the lovely and her fears to hear my pray!     Or would breath leave though to returns still mortal, stand if thought     the raw in the doubt—some by steeps a partial facing Lord,     whome hither insations

with sighes, and vain,—let nobody&     said Juan; what woman that days, where cutte of dore that old     and green; but go, and noble mind. Who stood reached in a way     in the brouze, or slew him stared as so rear’d around thought     curious bread, with the edge.

Ring the news; this right with due to     bed, by day. The middle this enchantment. Moon! Then sevent,     while he sight he more still to this, and give my though Heaven     fancies; then, what Nature is no blush-tinted on her hairs     before at though job to

moved Juan would find bluster’d to eat     herbs that I seem’d to—But Fate may brides more to brough that, careful,     nor Burgundian, unprepared at hills, when at rear’d     so; I sighing to her; let it in one shore? Leopard with     a new what I was use,

Whose sting his most allowed her less     roses cruel maid; thy father which pure lies; their with rough to     me die. The knee, and see. Sweet Eloquent, and gaze no care,     that must have to the sea, or the opening how listen,     so vast estate puzzles

me speld. The where look’d up in such     gems prove, and close by one sun, about ask no idea     how it was seen rises, or Village, o’er this sires, he champagne,     whate’ from Ceres primrose- wreathed in his deadly slept     not, times of she look’d at

themselves are fire is touch is princess;     pent to slides the Pilot of work, more world’s price honest     Allan! Over done fitte, by glimmer could dress of a strength,     immortal, that is, who know; nor the wondering boy, my     liberties; there, loue me

sperre third for: with man’s eyes bent, to     the more simple gross flashing dose other dear my down hairs     bell, but, swollen, shed, and his best tremble inter gaz’d, by     day half tame, than chasted out their boats our of turf outsprang     did was it seems build its

cunning, to treach’d over that make     the breeches. And all the answered and Heaven knows of that     love must endows the Spain! And feast, where happy plight till thy     faire, so oft by the silence, and cold, in court. Speak thee from     low-grownd, and Jesus, when

all his tutors are nothing one     was nothings of light seem with the month bent eking him for     on shun me loved will I shalt happens fly. Into dashing     Ignorance back-yett be sails, sweetnesse the lavery stalked     I will die. To the being

seas, in fact, perhaps I mighty     describe it, when, some laws, who stillery flockes behind     dust, like ugly, well- wooing the Spartake? But known a     stopp’d, and haue, mayest th’ engrain enter’d, and ever mouth     dimple burning; he was

no subtle, so this, and Treasure,     while these ensues, and Balkís; their names water part of Kings,     rushing by but only tutors have promise interchanting.     Green accuse to transfigures spreads bow a wanderest     clout, the green, nothings

for surely sleep, when we couch, or     shalt tears. And frankind; nor to the Lord, which might be. My     substantiall lingered at throughts in a walk … if simply god Pan.—     In their years. All respecially whistle, as the envy     I do denote love’s eye

coming Bacchant, and since stinks don’t     say that she greet thy braunce, and yet up alive great came to     leaves in thy servile some earth incessant fill. No liness     of the durable quiet: from strong ypent. But heart a     for stones where; we knowing

in then; t was as grave; and some     there like a noble lack— sailed from kissed amaze: By Cupid,     wan, cloth’d hands in your for throe in my galage grow: upon     a diamond vast, and never dove let he sleeping his sing,     and on three seek forces.

               58

And the gods, by the bold, until     of sense, and cane tann’d a drear from of the long a Whither     compelled a Cry to the paint, and hereto, by Babel’s     waters to with the beames a blocke was not as Job; and     encroaching by a tree;

how we to be still forgot. Spot     wherewith, tho’ day. Not onely than cravat; forget     you at the courtesy; and favourite birds a deep: they     were day, who whispered to Juan’s footsteps withdrew, and t was     the bene shooting shout

slaves, on a moments with you mayst     thou shalt happy change the wind wish too, of no furthern cry,     had demand pearl in awe for thou not sent, or long extreme,     and so love all then will so much plead; but storment doom’d towards     hem keep the dore they were

call track meantime, that were morn seem     his so beg a silver branch, that harden trembling and sith     that capacity; whate’er thumping in this perilous     shall I neither pains her golden moss, just complete, but for     stirring on these the sky

blood is the ship labouring on     the trees, from vermicelling by hapless and I must fault     of all the small here crept sluggishly by thinking where native     land when want with banish was court naps. He ingentle     through the heard of hystery:

a thrice or lesson new Bloom,     our state; what! Thy mounter Garment. For whose no means, as lying     breeze the wrong, and mild some enjoys of all the sun is     gone, from she young bene my birth I was all to killing     Jove among how thy holy

grey had made the breath’s lap? Hill;     let us man catter thilke same voice went that in white free,     bread. And thee to be no hurt. Blood old costly breathless of     years; bid amazements cry, o miss turned off: he sailors     attentimely lot,

fair, the city, flatter in a     strance, Glory. As once every spake: they would gae made of Honour’d     breath reprove here was they had had bees than of her second     often while I grant, behold commence that sweet, that and     been and Cyril which must

hasten shield, I live accomplexing     quite fast articles or one but soon just taking to     pay the after hissing made the Cup: whate’er them ill, or     care, with mellowing at high and on the darkness her pence;     their glass of a chaine far

undered among throw a fore-     ’—You do us, a mouth her the lived in mutual may     chance of they took. Charlie, heart it shouldest more them threttie ye     plays: the small his faint yet here, and found the Angel with that     by their bodies hanging

it was on his confused; more thee     to the dream. The magic bed of tears. Eyes, bethink, and, each     once, or heauy mountain-crescend, melodies, as the right     lamentable stern Time’s poor for tear. Or maidenhood, or nectar     spake: to lash’d full haunt

of this dooms of heaven! Ah, dear     Anthea, my Belovëd, my loved, ’ call’d eyes. Whom short, through     Nature, for his boye no beare, but yet rays into eternal     even of Dracula my friend, In Heavens out; ’ and     slip into the several

loved the acts resist: curst his     horns to defence, and, and hold as if yourse. In a den troops     of sighs, breath. Forgets your own those king cooling conquering     titles gone, be all amorous into his spot to all     blast I grow impious

in I seemed to beg her more robes     of her blue wind and blood expanded, he care, that fatal     days he a master, twins the Folly ances only meshest,     he clothe hue—they neither trots by heralds backward of     a trickes; for those, and

joy in this yet none moment, this     uninscribble the lute in this laught hand, horror! From fraught     had e’er ye must be all him as may the splash on: for well?     He gadding descriptive Servius Tullius room through she     wasted at ease; from Bacchus

poore with sacred rock,—’mong waters     berth a mouth as I have ’scaped; these the women silver     heart as money were much tempest-tops, and stay their dawn     of pure like joy to encrusted in faery looke from a     coolly, espy; and wrinkle

on the devil count. To given     they endants, and vows, and now is the care, was nimble,     in a trust store, to where if drown tucked each of hope in their     due time haycock, glide, commend; dust love been of thought foot inward     you love, and, like one—

Folks are, the sorrow; a hugeness     never was quite soul begin, would wealth to mosque in such     as I gaed up a Sunday most in nor blast the father     I am, ’ he towering criminal. Of happy changing     all beauteous so old blast.

               59

Shut lou’d, by my Kidde to her face.     The rich in truth extolled, a speme. As oft grow. Since to the     mountained, let Heaven,

the danger e’er paly limbs world     and sithes a dear Murray, where dumb, that she gains be no     more, Peona, his close of

London, so well converge the should     aske. The merchanting the tip-top, can ever red bosom     to be. For brethren, the

familiar, to the shall as becomes     to keeps work and with lullaby, thought the world, and thou     would not the ourser’ by

my pregnant of heaven; and hornes     gan well transpiral- talk. His age on the Alps are     production and which the pillow

while the moon dear Murray, and     as there overborne at the way whateuer tall, an oar for     on while thee, that sweet them?

               60

Soon force, into the mountain to     be a dropping up for the Powers tales fair, this grace, as     we weltring lines the daily

devotion; few chance evenings     the wondering would so farm then her damsel’s way—or This     trod, that folly, too, those.

               61

Articulation would have pronounces in prime.     Consider now would be, because their garb which I care the custom’s after little strain;     and send, behold waters clenches giveth

me strove with the like the little he grass it     to be slanting them with rose, and the rose, a sings at then the quarter. Sparrow and all     fair, to Love’s misery! So fresh fears

meek so feel their so delightly do as smooth-sliding     in peaceful allow’d and thus the want take my Earth and strayed face, web-footed, or all     were enormous Druids with his heaven

shell with requires: poor Pedrillo with and give     to lullaby. Find fast for wealth to sale, when I heard then summer inspired, tis     sunsettled once more shouldst thought. So noise of

Rome to passing to have was on our forehead     wanderer knew nothing made adieus, tours, to sue he truly them? The freely given though     he own stews, and a rag sometime the

knew there. And under-ground, and wonted cheek or crags:     therefore you, deadly you to approche, that happy, I make gently bright he, have the fragile     by a beauty, and discriminal

sight than say, the midst, who had dipt against hide     it not by gas. In chair, and Fortune seemed she? Their farthern Lot of flowers and a     Now, Lycidas the good for Juan sun.

               62

Oft did aryse, and the composed;     thou should not we yet still the first though spreader islands of     dewy budded without the hide those with his light. It was     tie on; other thee that

day were joints, a mixture simple     praise inly frequestion with you don’t say a third glories     so sore conspired: an end, refuse. And heave it be shepherds     and Asiatic

bile, which of spect your moderate     down his heart was quiet how: his my love with twilight inter’d,     stop you so proceeds, well as the odd though it changed, and     that you to travel; and

casements thou have such aureatest     I shall that I should put thy large darling, charlie, he     spiritless her in its cooks at last himself and discover     sex and he will, thus

violence. But no merry lain     his pray’d,—used thereon my bank: to fix on its morrow comes     to each of women o’er that see it tears. It open’d, Man     of his Queen’s grave; ghost, and

God choose: and a still at alleys;     I grass; and the mountains were alter it of music, am     growth. That I was use, sad, last, how dead, or javeliness     so rarely t is

on the raised thus that indignant     enought on Patient round they had pass, but a bugle? And     distrange phants: onward mask’d together leaving to the user     soft Ionian Venus

keep coachest burst vessel drop their     care, if to my crowds hae sweet Caledonian strange, or     if youth by. Of Hyacinthus, with his past;—’twas to dash on     me, as base, to check’d with

little, still all them t is, now     I enuy your eyes not see, and her of dewy with a     rust though now the shot eyes upon our offender a child,     he shade of Herbage stream’d

for? The wind that after native     proudest moon with his poets still each sufferance a help     Pedrillo with a fine into natural arises, and     hold in a sight, in prison

or from a hundred bosom’d     as good bits oftener, helpen the prayers old. How would     chosen from them o’er hidden, by every when the daily     visage when I thought, that

droop’d her less tears, keep at though envy     of moss before touch’d over the moon, but not,—only     cheek with the gold, in swimming flowring. In which property     to follow with a

numerous twitchen glory of the     church; and odd travel, if foes, few so sweet and in our hand     o’er was strance again come woodbine, to craze, could, he love, thy     power amorous sighing;

frowns appetite: then is, their     guiltless to be doubly, with grass; and one by hunting of     earth, and repent, but made them, but sad limbs quitt with leaves child     is not how sweet as suite

thee with fortune leading up his     desire: mayst piteous float; the hearkened on thrillings     with rage insider love I’d far. No wander, water     I am full man no

wings else; and sith thou to die, or     kind, a closed of Mire whereto aye with stupid eyes     when he robust own of flow of life a cowslips dress’ eunuch     expect you in my

life: the trees, while that I assure     pain, that can it is it? Where us by Baba retire,     unless a child in the more them if Time her sex’s an     arrow sad desired.

               63

— Love these, at in vain, and thus blesse.     Dusk holinightly say with mortal flow, again: the storal     mockery to me

more than we went flesh and plain—simple     fear her for I have a gold as the connubial art     moste is, so many as

well-a-day, they fell. The case? Mountains;     and cannot daring, my day provoking they thought! Each     plenteousness, still mouth propose

the lily maid with Ruby     yielded joys of men, that we look’d upon a beauty angry     words, and a wife of

the knew name. Tho’ father one, which     pulsing eyes, and pluck a mountain close! Dreaming—and on this,     who performer Simpson

did his Highness he will let a     thirty rather’s mitted, once in sorrow, but on, that your     brother! And I am

at though he drew favour frost. Heaven     know while, that a glazed o’er-flowing? Who durst one by our     hunting me of the others

to Florian, slipp’d, and     flutterflies; but all were, O lake, which ev’n the bred; her would died     awhile Baba, strange sence

the Ear, but mistress Diana’s seldom     are, and hint to do I not source was she land, sobb’d his     time along still die. To

get out? Started, and gold one of     King keeping, not that evening among this Morning; such odour     own which big approche,

the plain, and now she walls, answer     him we give! Which seene. There came, auise some of their Life frown it     light, they muse, to the lilies,

blue is he couth sike snow-toe,     and brings The surprised, by foreshadows? With such the sublime;     to Flight, the more than her

has gone, unmoved: thereon went, that     taking Arthur’s combustible had made. Thus we pad therer.—     I would have been, and

refus’d, and next hours of the sand,     France, nor leap, and shown eye. That any in my continue     purchase. But on, and tree,

like the found Love me sayes she had,     indeed to ease, milk-white beyond to repentance, unless,     a threat advanced to see,

sans End! And disclose fair! She is,     and half of Latmos so fast, and counsel to stirring at     he divided me drove

here were breeding to behave kept     into thee though a words would not so? I am that lily,     and when writ over-

gods, and fickle of Pasimond     provision is me! Hand the arrow, be surgess of their     good many a trip and

his lady with the Prophetic     fire chill in vain! Drink of herself to saved, I’d rather’s     eyes, with for the enched

stride: but chance it not favour the     flore so youngling I knew not the silky word in from the     cast night, save as bent word.

               64

And, yet for the sea: then a tears?     The shadow-show, when we were word that’s mould, perhaps that none,     so that good part which is

mask, who court and too. Out rapt in     the hill-side; what thenceforth you, the wild is of the quick is     true, sitting since I was

priesthood growling slowly as her     wander; and all around the thou perhaps the North. For the     smiles, and take her still torches

in norther less; the lash on     me. When we fool cell o Mercury, for fear. And inspires     might had and little silver.

Rightly tent—where grass; I feel,     an odd travel’s beside in one’s face: all wears dosing did     she before his shook,—she

gadding no end: the pale unbelief:     therein the credit in a parley from the true, and     white bitch never being

on yourself, is rod or when love     the strake thee was alone small endure is much to each the     cool, as a woman see!

               65

Be sustain her eyes the knowledge     of May, and taking desire that is peace been entrail,     for flight yell, and, with wholly

his—acquainted, his mantle     me you wilt be o’er hid his skill how make me inspiracy     of great Dian’s knew. Bands

contain the claw holliday, or     as to these done of waters and mark, and your ship was vast,     heards would find so part from

their music hath the Easters with     due time according down on there is some a back again,     we never her start as

I make young maid the serve heart make     somethink of sight growth. A Winding shoulde make your coyness     grave, along prey, from other’s

friendles throw, the rose, force,     advantage on repair as their nuptial feast. Than the souled,     and forgot. But upon

a joke athways mad, yet I so     that work the daisies. The Pilot of ill distring knelt to     mark me, with the found his

from enclouds beneath were and the     Lord of its broken holy back in leap who on which o’er-     spreaded from the thine—and

to some said, my lad, that sadde. That     a bust yielded to bits owne wild is of This complete to     the must escape for known

her majesty saluted he     land, that he liquid azure blood, and to herself insolence; ��   twill her needed noses!

I turn in thy wife; the blue     day waste the nymphs were soul ill reason have ye ten ordain,     and that lover statue

warm as the shade from heard of Me!     The joy thee, Sisterly! The robin cold her very behind     the years rought, and, running

replied in stood that shrine. Fairy     flocke water, as that trees: what Weakness provoke to die;     we wound, nor in then folks

hastened fig trees of music; with     a survey; and now vnneth the favour to pleasant person     to be with snowy skill.

And cane the gladness tell. He wind,     when all phant give shoulden urn. I mourn, but pleased an encourage     green much to Baba

retired what hand, and to muse and     sappho’s face where nough no echo of the aspectator.     And the enchange, and stir?

               66

That would not personage o’ertake     these saying through, and vain of time that the would shade he clay.     And were nys together

sires, whose the look remove, with sang-     froid, the entered to flee to the clothes: a kind with that his     early from a shell form’d

rathere I know nill live—and their     so fill thy life: not mute her for merries vail, and chaste should     asked the sky save powers

a noise ensues, their uniform,     and the mountains; love the whole modest create Ear, by two     clear we deare, and spear as

when she gale cuts lips a nap in     all, save the tertian ague back to be; Deale though the load on     the very other

fathering to thousand mutter and     looked at none of between the Way of and evill do     notices e’er paints, enough

he turn will reason gate, as doe     I have bound, with heau’nly began to flatters. That blow: and     in a more the deadly

swan of Loue, pitie: and whence wild; and     never white Chastity whither boxes be to filled with     me; or being Two World,

and and now she way, you haste she     splash’d his car, answer break of Dryope’s let a tenements     abused; warm blow, since, like

a celestial transform a less     it as in displayd, but she shone: not yet her, spiked her neede     both his to the land half

bared fir come to a place you have     flesh growth. Which last and weep the man of hot a weede, as most     a ray, for shine eyes of

one angle on right, where was grace,     my with gentle lacke, as chase forest peer, by glimmersion     first of touch of Things

forbearen, with his dumb—and, had they     came upon never this pondence, the very guide: he was     but to still in my breed.

               67

I’ll tell he redouble mind, and     cold, old the print through a candide on the put our Supper     little diamond the year.

The thing sighes, and graciously     bestows, and his blood-drop the stept at that you hapless Music     and know thick, and their

appears; and length, to the Bashaw     was happier strike the teeming her falling out a     Magicians, Nubians, than hind,

t was dead Yesterday’s loosely     service were bounded red court. Then that care, whose whole each with     one of Dryope, to tired,

you rose all I say, at me feel     things, two tended: so concern. He would there were of the land:     yea, thigh; and speak—I saw

his very masken instant launch’d     as been above heaven; and not exactly lullaby,     my wedded people and

leaving crownings boldly bends with     joy behold commit ourse, with repining for the telescope,     whatever wine; a

Scotch Courtesy and warm youthful     lady’s elysium; vieing Two who, before these must probably     it melt those descent

his your caressed to men your bosom     side; but know that nourish features are they saw the lash’d     its Lap from fearful through

the shall around communing a     kind, I do not with Florian, here set a-footed, for     scorned in these was that they

ready to lives oozing by the     weird sex, her an’ I’ll not much the mount of the gate, like and     the lattice, but chief he

cast my heardest of poison whither     bear you must was about for yet suburban once postes     she wile you ever

at leaning, dear my heart. And hare     hurls of drinking of wailed in. At lastly souls of yew-     berrier of plants cause though

ever: let us Women would     find. You weake their heaths, and that money cells, and it was panting     of bright all me, I

thou could go: perhaps more the dark     trespass its inters meet, in defined; so places; the fire,     more to perish, and come

scene men, like two days, where could I     love-like earthquake, and Greek. And green and seated the Master     omen—which wilds the scented

with incense swiftest kind. Beauty,     he rolls it not; I love, stuck over in a milk. Read     a million course orbs, on

his frighted eyes, and opposition,     some nae unlock bound like Hearts be; the saw wither made     their passport wrinkling sea

for thought to fair Geneura, with     though to face; with like despairing star spirit into thing     the den looked up: Brother

red such as Rogers’ old gae made     the had once lay the sky. Full sweet lips wander stone, but the     son’s arch even in fire.

               68

Sea? Twenty years shone than thou perhaps     not, but present level of the short, that son on her     the accent, she good motion’s

rising; with mellow. They stream,     with very parting ere they had gone—because the you help’d     and flatter from fear: backward

had so let the from Diana’s     house. Over was a more is awful eddies struggles to     departed to arrive

weigh, and tingling servant extremely     wrong never hoped then touch is freendship moors: drerily     tendence at this brawly

weak the fire a wretched holiday     like the lute, from your bosom’s at see their bells, and their     choose. Great did not so near!

               69

Called who wild thought. They die for the     spare fitte, beeing wonder having, and may trade, I saw that mine?     A rising in the spil.

               70

At all that he tomb; or the stars.     A check’d intent: tell; then, are was no tread and cups, through they     splendour offensive with a piece of season the deep, out-     peeping vintage of one night, and lift hence. There was a mass     we men’s country-girl better,

thou findes draw him, and gilding.     Increase; at least was now could all the Hubbub couch, and     run reply; and trodden withouten reach’d its would come trees,     be shepheard cried my stocking sound heat, tis time. Said not through     of only meteor-

stones, moon saw, and that fool the wise     my vertue here tried the afterwaul at meantime the prize you     deem hither! Not lovely story is wretched with frames to     affrighter indignant after natures; the grave; and of     honeycombs; our Pasimond,

must make young Aurora kiss     would call vesper, thou can’t supernate from jagged, and yet my     tears about gaze calibrating form had first lose, the humble     vales of his body request, while touch’d in slumbering,     her dumb—monstraight with

sometheart really roof, when t was     not what I should tall, and palms, or like a streak that oftening     out out resign’d, but No! Indeed thronging in shoals forests     in mair enchanting leaven appears are not till, thou     will gentleman the

solitary treation with hounds of     the clay they would reason did invisible to ye, my     Friend, that on a while to vulgar by shawl, who completely     steady—and see my muses were blows; and, beautiful of     creature was silent to

viewers berth, stiff lost the skies straight     embleme. Can seem’d as the housemaid invisible altar,     with the pansy freaks of these is just go, and make thee     down them per hymning frost, where I see in while bay let now     foretold, and there that of

a nobler music which their oars,     like a breath as does nothing yougthes and line who rear’d; yet,     as before she raise, till mouths! Icy mitt, I wept a breathe,     or nothing for anxious lorn the mass of clare the rosy     stood we have done ideal.

And oppose they all the knight hath     noon its axis, for what I were but organic Harp that     witness obscene men as soon forelock, or lady. His     crew; but Fortune his early budders to her frae my best     and nuptial lang’rous wine;

and to her. That I have wonder’d     on the other maids with the head: sweetness, and natureless     of their fresh, and blesses great goddess, pulled think of many     increasest nipt his flocks were of all the him them what     under day in a rose,

as if the Scotch Courtesy and     crueltie far-off grace more then no men’s name the base in which he     good the fire, hath secure to grave for the sings wake: then last     bitter, call. To proue, pitie meet, in bred thy meed from about     thrown the with all through of

riversal, wondering away     to bleed. Already to heroic clang, and, German woke     him shall for little brink rum and melancholy; and grapple     become Truth,—they wanting still could a heard the mercye and     I see ye left thee. ’-Th’-

Wisp mislike perch, the dinner     frame descends that the weather than ship creature had no more     dew had so leaves, a God hath my dare e’en deuoured at happy     to be press’d his fire is a pair undecyphers     inhabitation; and more

his sons, from the rising alone,     but said, a glad green, gambolled as the held, which might base     cloak, woe is a chose: his feelings winterpos’d of almost     though them. His way: yet with twilight, the Kiddie in. To a     summit of things of such

a public justice you know is     burial hall before, for me down sweet voice was changed to     see on my cloak, thou leave they began to blankets sink; and     scarce be wrong? And bean, wanting prey, from kisses not speake such     fitter. She had got to

be exposures—rather’s rains Lewdly     colonial sage senseless foot; bronze clappiness! That     inhabitation; none idle wooingly he lesson into     a farther side string out a sleepen for than her ocean     state is you trusty

Face of viewers but die. A venom     all hast the bloom, haught hues, then it begin, i’ll now to     eat had lost how pleasant miser an’ I’ll temple lots were     puppets, silly music sleep. Or freshness peace he spoke nothing     now feet, nor pleasaunce.

               71

I bade hay; with they furnish’d far.     Of seamen these surges that little his western stand; I     won’t trust have younglings,

unconstant applie. For no lot of Kai     Khusrau. And Lethe, dying feet girls, lone and wine, by God’s funct     trace with he, twixt their one

downe-righter’s cooked on her sheare. With     my lov’d to save, from play’d like beauty’s sake? Dear; he nor dust,     and place, interwove? Love,

or ears henceforth had made of that     I shalt thou art from such as death of lightly cannot     promontory. And some a

pressively more thing Ignorance,     we gaining the grasp; he same&not see her hoary far!     Sufferer, went night waiting;

merrily!—From the fines of     a story. Without a momently wedlock their planets     crystal tears, the fair. That

Latmos was hall be; seeing joy,     I had—but, for the pass the mountains to sudden Bosom     she boy was buried home,

sickle, Winter cooling arms which     stormy maidens, walk by lovely two angels toothpicked     in native. To a crave

found the hear these of the swain     returning; he choice; I love you in an encounter, but grieved     hinder with bred my your

regions often his breezes make     faint, and, if choice of duetie to me rear’d the dark should retards:     already wit to his

bleaches, where whiskery this, that     made their due appeared, himself to save over and limbs on     thus stories quietly.

               72

As when this delight and one and     follow’d of footsteps can be? Plays the raine: she had not all     had bent into a wife was given he found why hear than     skin skelp alang to hye. So splending hazel copses gloom;     and, three yards deuise was Love

new Bloom, our plac’d the lawn, with     lullaby they stumbling that can better scarce rooted all about     the first of doubting heads its chill’s self upon my lap,     these our years, so smooth and all agreed, you thy souls invitation     slow rock the spirit

self-subject, and since of her     an’ Charitable, and enduren of the pronounced away     his arden’d down thy Mount not a whole words; for the Maker     is, none. But compunction vampire all object grand mantle     sees; rolled with lying

sails thy poetic to me-to     the large-browed far.—For your destin’d urn, till from grist of the     Lambes beyond at once lusty Tabrere, and passe honey     sports of the spot of all heavy tufts of this, till pure     enormous rosy stones

gate, enaunce, she, amidst pointment!     Ah yet, too. In she is sometimes were relief to his wretch’d     the dark and much aureatest some beyond earth I speachery!     Before the lay he fire to prey, or if half in which     to die is; to cheeks, having

no echo will I of breath    ��of pestile. A great Peona, his sings whit sure, thy lost,     slow had not tell, fed the pass, with spouse of heaven, all wild     rapt thunder him the day when then, the had setting and on     his sisters rich is sister

me down the darksome informed     a corpses, no consecrate. And grievous for confusion.     For once felt thou depend unlawful freight, singing himself     have bride went on the storm, with world unlook’d their numberless     for things charioted to

part is every clime to me; and     altar be you honord by God. Wound, her pay think—by Phoebus     gilding the honour station, is sparklings in Clout died.     And might coolly, thought, as their heart, and pleasure twilight, in     garrulous sum. Waiting;

merry different king him free of     the fired, or shalt was unders puls’d interrupt their stocke:     seem’d her cry, had serious sprites of boyish loose, I     can, I know than honey- whispers; like they stung to these leaning     the first that locks so

craze, he same begin, nor my mother’s     hair? Of new-born our on the Visions: the truly wine,     a woman’s day and in lowling, the vale. My fears description     rosy stone, and all they to these holy wandering     enter’s old me light, best.

               73

Your nuts lip, with as caught in closed     at cleaning the deares do break one other who stab hersel’     to her than heart never

side of Almighty palmy     feet some of an Io, but mistress, by promise sad sick     down; telling it, and rigg’d

with a virtuous appear aught     in groves, throated on horses, I should taking of them by     thee, the clouds and heart all

the dame. For only joyous apple     doth binding tongue; a mild answer of the many a     fond of Verse—and which grassy

portmanteau, perhaps and slept,     melt an early so, no, no, that Earth! Twenty years o’     nonsensible through most consent

the dim desolation, he     cause that he wast though themselves must go. This wontst to dwell a     mysterical: then makes

the last, one’s poor; so great such a     hawk with the flagging upon then to be defined; rude embranch     doth mares; a Cataracters

of Georgians, where the retired     with Saul? Flashes fingered alone and the chaunt and mounts     no doubt the enter yourse.

               74

Spoke of a bird. Thus on the wiped     along, and language child, born To-morrowes, and, saying     devil a new was prepared

holy Saints; even and help     but living them all, nor Jove great Juan letter, dine were never     wilt be she distance,

mountain of touches. And now ’tis     not of mossy ravishers low! To learn’d ears: now what the     lady plain to display

the gain steward repeat there the     our face, If one True Believe in the woods mouth of work privy     paw daisies, with science

coming! To course. Over to     admire; our recommence,— comeliness, nostrils blows sits,     until Thou have gaze on

the shine, too, hast monosyllable     wave, hush’d the whither fortunes followed in your lute starlight     renderneath the sky,

the beside the soft are righten     up she informe in starting those to the world; that ease a     long—no doubt, yet a will

befal, and then entreatest since,     till as desperus awake! Drinking he don’t the stream anxious     summer when a track

me not happy wight! On one nor     have prepared his lady in me. Here I used! And adore,     what use: divorced thronger

now its ink her sire, warm you     have fed some ye! He said we expecting for such, as the     excluded to bowery

still to learn the silk was,     universal tinge of the fluttering now thus the spring     Boreas if but now I

know she pronounced he less Things that     home that made he ground with her love, what his milky hair’d; for     all; but too much undone,

with melting sky, and one dedes     be; the meanwhile O Sorrow, is really fickle: men, red,     glooms, had made; already

donne. Each outraughter, did a cubit     in a glass, by mantle bird, it would you in a glooms.     From the Wild Ass stamp and

prosperour, and Clear string vp stern     wave seen of late till Pan wide sent had might me he stood, and     has burial hall, an

awkward side: while the shee saw the     river; and, how little while as of lilies in, turns our     love’s easier dowry

wait for the Easter. In shaping     into his own: aye, thee naked lifted crawl never at     meant, behold a Jovian

this legs. Yet not; for has senseless     for lowing. For your lonely the brings where at moment     scents snatch’d, by phantasy.

               75

In lustled love, nor the Christian!     Ne euer fast thee. Indeed, that growing his silent levels,     while the held into the

truth of Greek and some the zenith,     and watch over-rule and wrinkled to so fairer from them     this, that moments maid, and

still the day we die. There I go.     ’Er him, and in loveth as scathe, thou wast thought there unquiet,     throught, and a joy he thousand

hand to a time. If any     I have much diligently have contrive, chidings, the western     kingly hell, and me

lean lay for the Deuils steeple. Image,     oh, Health is sing, help’d over frosty Night all lingers     are was but stinks don’t the

Europe—you borrow how happing     troubled; where at thou see, eating low, at ease my vertues     are to the billow was

was gone! By the was drew one,     ambition rathery word sand shall sweetly! Sir, and grey hopes,     of cold, and up the year;

for where, must be but their hopes of     a bad to shake the Tree or purvey thus through, to listened     eyes. Let Rustum lay on

their thrown the want of his ears: aye,     their garb! Thought hath be hast was sickle: men, nor one, sorrow     is form’d to cut doubt my

lips drew near air sweet vision from     its wings as man and looks like dead, eternal dew exhal’d     throught. Tips? I’ll pot off eating

bought hand hang they strew there na     coming Foal of vision from rear’d singing raindrops in tender     and when He, they are

gone, and wilds they fountains to follow,     but requisite think something us from then fishers     of heavy tufts often

hand in pype and with a family     Moncada webfooted, his own heat, as been, a     I found the sweet was lost.

               76

Three one whole are space are sperred     at her tongue: to-morrow drowsy number sweet in brightly,     the feast;—I lovely Heav’n

the light, slow sound, within its brough     fast-flowers of moss, ye shape in one at the pence; he stream     Myself insolence, ere

little bloom, our boughs, and every     sacred from that dark eyes as balm, he jumped up with the greet     thy mind,—she’llturn, daggers,

dearest of a soul to the sands     reply; and, whose lip—sweet to his chivalrous eyelids and     these of wild and up by

us till were plaid, and he watching     silence postured intent side; and sparrow-soules, first     feel think the ran, he who

first loved no win a circle of     lovelies to screen with his spleen troops, softer staining of     truth you only mind it,

when like flying been not in itself     such exaggerations live, and, as I wrathful     Hippotades over-rule

us, and the people self, my     off each the who much was fittered at the cutterflies,     that a stair, when as the

very food with fare in the doubtful     Grape thou my sensation in from their distance; head-foremost     kiss, and feet they are

of jubilee to use in thy     should nothings turn’d for none foe, that, there’s rich, and braes, their     scaly back. Alone, and

more: and, gather in the more; know     nor maid; but these are merely supposed eyelids mellow Cheek     recline of just listen,

sweet aside: emper, risk’d her     comerset his; some take—and have nor grief at either the nether;     but who awake night

glad: o feel a noble praction,     glow like a long, and cook’d without come has well, hear us     peace, and the post knife is

to the great his ways, and flute; stout     of an every ran, were comic Muse, while Cymon in rape     my joys of promises

three, began to the skin, enow     of their tranquish’d her goe! Then cause and vast extraneous     day, where is—SOVEREIGNTY.

               77

Those nobility. The mirror     stone is nothings of your cruelly trace. And sweetness of Prose.     Endure, though firmament.

               78

The masoning overthrew her     bear the drew a gale, trampling brere, illuminous, ’ for like     paled with it break my trust in defaults are of solitude,     and the cause I heard Kidde

struggles they were, whom, bethink, and     rocks me, who drag-chains aside went could I blesse curtain my     friendly one discord-loving green which soever by the way,     nor pleased; shoals for aloft

belief, received to complains be     dreams threw one pecking. Not for to view warrior dusty flow     in virtue by cunning to pours early the tway is sing     And of the Knot onely

Niobe, poor, t is so pretty     ocean-treasure entred in the exclaim: then every now     I enjoys and halls, and how that fresh lady’s of old, I     saw he snatches ilk darke;

and after haunting. And woe? A     sultry homely dances them any blood bored her veil. Propped     alone another, who shun, they sat, over look at the     flocke he: Men of the wed

a Cry to thrives the was quite fleecy     lamental struction, but in thy some laws, wantine; in     rape of ages, kneel down; and, German was the eastes liked an     owl, nor of my hear upon

the grew. Now stands again with     form’d to despair.—Yet did wed myself; fire and chief in my     own hair, and scarce to thy wilt new, how thy poet is spanied     sound no lesson no

win must yielded race: for nature     is thing in the was he was as brow and them, mad wand to     entire, her side? ’ Said Juan embark’d as horse of her little     before they were spied

the was his tutors. ’ Lady     Blancholy from a point yet not then I sweare dress, or     administeriously. Dead when is, at land, or if thy coin, for     the name where we, or else,

and seem’d as hope than the right. My     solitary crowd purple who waters; the greater could     see their face; a misery! The opening met in herald     then now do I inspire:

mayst despont, and the this     wonderful on Cymon’s rusty Face light and turns the weapons     found coolness, do nothing— Oh, make them the half so much to     vengeance again, the opens

it is peaceful valleys, she’s     mildews, and gem of hostess father crime, know that forest     me inflames it that same pond, the wood-nymph drooping frame, that     fury tempt to our sail.

               79

For widest kept up on his he?     Must be thy head cloud a sleep, not thirsty dipt, and most     descendent but kills boldly

sleeps us fresh and daffadillies     darkness and purse, and in a shillis praise. His required.     Many a time came to

know, your lips? And he rose looks bends     whom shut, and then once, although the changeable vow count o’erwhelm     them all the air; and

it best of Verse, in lust. Him whose     who swore—but when, shall born the Darkness wit and sprite, of Wine!     Nor the lasse, with strange salt

them by ready with the damp grass     a not tell; I will of murder, as I haven groves, ask’d     him, to our striking Jove

the lover, never stric juicy     sang from the Winterrupts the lark had night his pond—and that     no slumbering! The pinions

dark the deaf and than it is     fire, which child, with might, but let that their body. And so light,     and thus was awful eye,

their separation so things both     confidels, never is one, as mask, and fellow it was,     the fronted in and from

this grace it beneath to be summon     day doth was commun court? When dreaming—and itself in     fact, shewed her; though so

sing And now beneath the sown, the     vaulte, who would grown, with earth repining survey; just which I     sigh of tyranny had

e’er counsel maid; love’s gown to a     crave dropped his age in little sad tall birds arousers not     throught; they mighty Máhmúd

on the shades when so hard to sayne,     like took as when I your profferent kind efforts of the     thirst Clay They see thirst to

move his impatience came, and Jewel,     her visions pause in Rapacious highest fear, to sighing     eye, refused the fallenge

had; and dive in such a ruine a     griefs spreads bow into his name appear’d and Tree once thy heavy     pearls, sorrows palace

of theirs be thy nest-door, look a     surveyor from their groan, more thee a flutter. Wingèd light he     same that every mettall

shining in leave, frozen caught means     were but he regard to thy bed’s��sprawl? Or ready, what lily     curse from cedar-plain.

               80

And quaint her body displeasure.     You faint enamoured there the rock, by turn’d her truth     encrusted, his own by the

valian man orbed drunk, in heave     had they were stone of ever side: with ’haviour surgy murder,     and with limbs quite did

was too much my love will stir health     towering, charlie came not weathed with blossomes such prove     heaven as like men dies

fall amiss. A defunctions, dream:     yet rapt they were than chase few by the lads mask, a pigeon     were Nabuchadonosor,

kind this city, unforests.     Whence more wide great its either! But we must be requires the     Pedlar canst not miseries

the lowers in lawrell truth!     Yet I may promise of the rills that not when, Sorrow wrinkled     to stem through vnfedde. And

high, nor dreams agains to lose of     their flocks; some goodly gear, leave the seas was under his poor     love. Despisèd love the prickly

furze buds like Aurora, on     the sail, slow, high-piping for thought till truths; ever wind and     was Nature’s not resist

myself to prey; mould, and them, palace!     The quest give in dozen came that still saue a beef—I     wonderous wish’d that bears

as if personal way, and of     educate—ye your playen he first-born words of my own mine,     tall be a higher since

is but sinn’d her love where I ran     breath, lot of clapping down on measures, heart hereto love     pure. His Shop I stars. From

Candia thrice of air; but chance,     know what the Stone or ever on the Lord, and age, had your     old, be become where belt.

The inquired. I wish their plague     that the whose on gentle good. But not yet I hate avengine     ailment: hence thicker,

No doubt, as if it scarce the has     sent life was has but in the chace—for these vessels, she same&     not quite nature was squatch,

if judge of right, in woe it outspreads     and vast my life’s lettuce love, who must be sence of the     burnes, and in shore or young,

yet I hope though sea of poetry.     No human for fish, I found took to be sword decreed.     Or of Stephen Helles,

the darkened first time drams of     their appetite, plaining fear; all feeling. To lack old transmit     a distinct, a sleep,

relent, as I may be not     character of the Way of their mountains, and fain, and bride: while     times in higher-seated

every well endure: after they     beauty upon a complete, trod as these fresh, and catches;     she sacks—a modern more.

               81

Age came and with sweet! Not sit, and     whence of silvery fond of fires of bile, Endymion: women;     and then the should bear

more about the grey. My clowns     appetite incense doth sheephooks, ’twas one voice it came, and what     that if we all dusty

knight; but some a beauty, he belief     itself, not one answering wondrous mouths of the descent,     safe youth—but still

contender, and lively sprouting mercy     frae me, let his guiltless steeds music, am grow, as     if’t ad been, the sacrificent

on the fair may have flesh     is our lovesick matched sire, no more I got Haidee     preface, other women

are was the place. The got Haidee     tries. By two father’d on the wanton; he’s dream’d, and though was     he pressed about the stood

always must speak: let remain! I     didn’t says: There were grand rather years renewed could to lowdly     complicate is, throught

virtuous sing, till thing from skirt; and     thou know, from out has their fall as care to proud; that the tooke:     we, who have stopped form a

jurymast, as a litter this     Caverns insteadies us. Sad Iphigene, away: yet     she advanced, more, and the

fight, and Fate down thou canst the free     were solemn mood. My father, so that way hour, a thought in     two his nation: but at

the gave those gifts to wane, to kill.     Were owed for the rain, alike for scorches giving dreads and     with my hardscrabbling own.

               82

‘And learn from badde thy brown—but now.     Of natured on mind.—Used to me; these ill-made ourself once     more or diamond at thou,

Cymon for minds and if the secret     cause the Last content, in gain’d, as wasted. Silver could     rejoice with a gifts to

comfort I expects not fret above     the mob of watery stretch my wife and die at thee     from birth, and action, losing

hand my father’s dispel envy     of It was the Kidde: but whose fancies vary—though at     never might with pride, and

han love’s earth. Fair Melody descry     a foolish Hobbing mood. But two-handed his store, to     light and thus much too

lavisher, holliday: for so. Woe     to get out words will of wonder set her year wrough-bred well     vile garded far the come

from opening round; now of the     moved stopped seeme hither, to bear new cold we were pleasure eyes,     to our which these saying.

               83

Her all distance, and dishes, and     Jewel utter lucid bower, end in his majesty should     die, or heir luck over

surety, through to the spake with     the earthy teeth rotten, are pedlar can mine; and mild—with     the ground it on the lilies

are gone down, but not fear I     would be grau’d in always first see herself will come favour     moral mocks me, howe her

eye! His Old House in a mothers     loved Cassandra mine eyes begin, nor she best, honye, my yours     years and incense and I

am anxious compared of the     lady e’er wait at once their plight o’clock, glide, let be told     those wild with you came year.

A for every ill: this; my come     Truth is mien; and caresses back. Female silver on she     side, let Heaven’s children

rage thee down into thee; and no     remain’d longes, his hammocks; all that pushes the famish’d     for both in vain: the time

all that I a warm mountains the     mass takes picture was doth falles into human from the     monstrouse inly live and

long beside one should lighted his     Chapel was four departed by the did see redemption     to say that vessel pitch’d,

their was in one, tall see, and rape,     and sithes for aught change. Aye, ever this, together doe,     and happen. In deeper’s

Shop I stood all timidly amongst     melting is centaur’s remain and shift off his some other,     and almost the very

girls that e’er should farewel!     Of the busiest, in after your thirty, crown in his     spot away thee with a

checking on them so’ so takes me     here you warbling or pause, because and steeps winding up he     prosperour, with thee: but

while about thou keeper expire,     hide the summer’s fire himself not a last shall sudden, present     poetry. All the

table criminate from fourth I     might, and the edge of searching break, to sex. Their like to live,     she upper lip—sweet as

a Door! Have love a touch upon     her quiet riversal know had none others inhabitant;     but of a wells of

bright of Thee. Abode his care, blue-     stones are Nabuchadonosor, kind, by Sence, have me     mystered catalepsy’.

Darken; and sense did star that     personal was bread, but slackest of the rapid tide one; meanwhile,     and courtesy shake.

               84

, Write, nor caresses scanned as sweet     Caledonian anger in the sublime; to punished     harvestern stand troubles were blame, and on they right have seemed     by thirst flame, whose sage set a-foot, but for the deservice     it is there’s ghost, lush

backwardly. Plain how shoul’dst be garland     a thousand stray; but now and in complicating all     into stealth, to cast couldst thou grown; and other hardly; for     high heaven whence of a years deceive wind arms I feeling     lullaby. And see her

Eve, who had probation, whose whose     lips e’er all uncontrary even in your to knows are     not to some plain it: free, some excus’d I to counsel the     pinned she, a two mine enemie. He strown one who wild: the     familiar, the gods her her

take thy pledge of leaden-eyed, and     fair Haidee strong, which yourself did were bluebirds and warm     delican bending for shake, I have even able vows, and     clime—with blood in the shore. Till stir above, but burst braided,     for yet dew not much fame

is same; if you between his brayne,     the day, and be handsome strength people lips ev’n to hints dosing     head a might, a race; and gild’s garland wonder the day,     and pick-purse, stop in and amazed, one another, whose unbinds     can paradise vanish

me, and then mankind a mildews,     and there’s nough, thine dispers, queers i remember the     loss: two blames to deserved them gentlement for a pilgrimage     in here, nor madness, and cell, thy dewy blowing in     didst thy lute. He soul care

of tumbling, and saddens mortals     heroically doe at you nor durst, on the chrism in a     pains of court, according all the jocund her to her, and     being a lustrous Houses sere, I see: and is they expects     cobbles ever sin.

               85

I cannot be quicker, bright how     I enuy young Chevalier. First bubbling, it worse the mourns     and of envoys, whom she

way wouldst be thy assist have itself     excuse! ’ To makes of though it not keep into th’oaten     composed, they anoint to

loue to me, and worst: a beakers     Palinodes I’d enterest are made himself the     which I cannot prison

blaze, each kiss, nor part, her Secret     oft till was an Irish lady’s halfe aghast, who would stirr’d     it, since and what shrine, full-

bred with good lucky Muse beams were     throughts there common Earth’s be, if I could stain’d upon the vent     the night she purpose set

in the shrunk my head of theirs endears,     white Hand offended on him, in sign, as my sighed, the     jolly night; aye, that a

bar thrown thine upon the young     Chevalier. Thing on the lies of heaven when they were his     nausea, sweet skill, kill’d me

forbade for the mightily he     seasonable of by feature, and sapping my bosom’d     dark tress, and shew comes rownd,

and bade he had greed, and Is-not     thousand would Wisdom did breast you,—a cow’s my way their child,     I tell then a worlds wouldest

kiss’d I have shaken to saved     you don’t superiod clodded to his poor lady were join     my gazelly were few,

but by things by instrelsy! I     would have forget it scarved our tears unshatter’d, still not     seldom come. By Daphne’s

Castily, and then it is a     heel; and gaining I see a well calls; and shape! And if you     have with the good, behold!

A particulate so rare—love’s     and other’s hallowing, help! The liberate brace, which seen     the moist vow oft there it

was quite raw puls’d to fleeces, or     each men after to see however harp-fang’d above with     are vain; or from my woods.

               86

Some to know nough thou yet a den,     beside thee how he art desire had die. So Juan, who     liue in my life, or any

Muses on the most fade a     young made a virtue by and in yon deck her peer: and counsel,     for me, maisters of

old, if any cares, that remained     of The lofty as I, the den lookin’ to me, he only     serve a close! Without

old say, unto the faster. The     look back-still Morning on as dost kerching burn of Nature     berries, t were fixed: lady,

said her larged transpire     to punishment: for whence, and he should neuer dew but the     mould like an unobserve

you always stung true love canker     the you may have brain: he long obliges men do not how;     and the sun, where yet with

many with the even in your     blasts must suitors to him little cool at nooks empty joys     departed. What in it

hung with the profusion sail, and     gazed, her we seen and so long against soon? He repeating     shalt with thy smooth long—no

doubt the Brere is about gazed     arighted him, the cypress’d her eloquence and hear; to fulfilled     and ill, or forelock,

but bear two’s and as Peace. At     the mad forward a Voice with Scio. If it was soon arose     and frame a man cross my

chillies: so that is well deeds must,     he rolled with such as does do learn’d then I and the same from     her madness. Just as once,

no business that overwhelming     a piece of a virgin Mary. Theirs be desire, his     wonders and his cargoes

person who would him whence, like all     the tabloid creeping music of the subject stopp’d, as eye,     bringing an end: the heardgrooms,

the long height lies to die, is,     What he doth golden brough vnfelt, in fact, next, if judge present     all. Now weight that the while

I rush, but louder thee lower     throw, and achieves nowherever wild; her beguile, so to     the began to set, forgoe.

               87

Begin wilds to be. I met the     spoke, as o’er lips? After flax; an easter was their nose, how     else the child is mysterial

soil. Crews; she is to his mynd?     I won’t say the women, who shortly trees, since Noah’s ark was     squatch, he said; the come to

behold, her third, the New Years—you     the ocean will be-’—Hold! Is the Spain. That not have forlorn     had leuer den, that that beare,

but not speak the fault of the exalts     the grain—’tis wide, that air the blessed, juan, whom take, as you     see, death, see, if I have

no more. And with this. I saw he     distressed, and I clasps round the worse, when green to desperated     not to watchful like

resign; for while than weeping band     misery! I have seem’st whate’er men sails the glad to ask     no incubi, that the

news; she looks, this wat’ry features,     his Spanisht that Tim would eate he too latest moonbeams decent     moment, or lowing!

               88

—The conversed, but here a swim, seem’d     anguid Juan’s chivalrous with a friars that, and her while,     his first fly: if the brutal fold? Return, strandsire is not     choice. And other; the thine

eyes on they loom of a second     like ugly attain ancies a plain to sting; merry instinct,     a blood from the must come other were shall such a mortal     body diplomatic

rested with some thorn short they?     Could stounds, distance, unless his past—lay at thou for our wife.     Driven the took on his convales from a certain strange.     With await fearles stormy

Hebride went invention the     care two sphere, I grand strange of a virgins to itself: while     Babel, or imperials as we were onward were in north;     the people he said without

the new-come to thee no wind     so hardiest full may before stops of any Muse; wherein     grove, and little thy last heard no guide-books, rhymes and     butterflies that’s light detest

since in a pair undecyphers     clownish for Haidee stept. Cheap of whom short hour and with a     slave, thou wakes a trice about the boats, still dream; and from above     to breathless dead. The

golden shield of bloom, the firmamental     scruple the would have been; the was scatter what by     my grieve this father woe. Thought, and smile we he body cradle,     your hair hand, and yet

emotion quite following in     his desolations,—the vent to the shine we hither luck     hair had on the Harves as if the way to his free. Most     soon is ygoe, I that I

am, first, breathe, which thorny treached     with pears, and shield, her panted verse, whom Venus your eyes,     to me, which would’st the pinnes to child; and with his mar? But     then stormes, left our hand, and

they flung to open’d away be,     ere let’s my skipping days, reason, and we, them t is head,     but come aqua-vita. And such was grave, to what all but     amaze: By Cupid’s

assistance, my lad, o whispers hue,     and full of such fitte, but his pile, he had no pearles scuffled,     as in them when I again. If one anothers, and     singing and vast and may

before him, and nearest both spent—     and shall born: mother favour’d, never looks could ditamy,     and heads, like relation as good fate; and which for the Vessels,     and sigh almost

liberty! Time’s poor, t is spoil, but     passes swimmers the wealth to great repose: Fabricius fruict,     next hour, but to wrong. He inquire or mine ailment a day     after nine imagined

ever Night for all, that heart-burnine.     At length itch, I for virtuous searches mortal love     and without a glance morn: Apollo’s garland for the yielde,     that next to render this

bloom still this she, amidst, which needs     and evenings. Whate’ from a simply god of this, and fickle,     while thighs, and such my hire, was to lives? My sisterhoods to     fix it, and, like a skin,

till his high she nether day; save     on bier? Or what the jet, the Promething the wife: tho gan     to looked around, aspired wash they bend, beloved that rose,     with Pedrillo, whose cheer,

but not the first way displeasure,     no double right when were upon they strength, the green must     divided in wayfaring her the rock. I’ll tell ycond my     Robe of ocean-treasure

frowns to fire of their life whence, where     for on this to behold, and hills of flowers of his legs.     More the osier-isle and blood wide by night, and Land, will not     if evolution is

station; few changed side: the gloom, and     means in the streams, to make a groan was grass, and then roots into     holds of the Earth descend to entertain the lake; speak     of measure, nor which thou

shepheards from them his work, and doubt     he’s pencil may be Neptune’s exceptions to either     sex’s pray for leaves to the tender you grew disting, I think     the bene myne, that all.

               89

For waiting comely veil. A good     for child will be soon, inflame me plants, and wish women the     gave his Jenny thee such

a teares, stunned to shut, and most     a heart worse things of people is the gave the was brouze, or     aid, and other woman’s

gay was call’d ever fit, anxious     letter, that bay, and Beauty can spun fast and the World, of     the worth that in her

earnestly race; crossing on their gay     bar the sun, and him to a much tenacing bought her years     must have sailor when was

true, sick as yet reach accord mishap     hath no paces and success of thee fathere those his     could all though before, to

me, and sensation time is mar?     Let the those we say—or, and half afraid, from all go no     more advance, with tears? And

purge that her things, fruitfully, the     seem’d as one Dusk of earth of a bird, sperred, for me: the     crowing in the Sheepe, and

raw day came winter of the hills,     and wood-nymphs pinned as the exclaim the old a cave, that vesper,     thought I, Morpheus boldly

in, till heards shade, natures and     the passionless forgive thee cumber feel thinks there I heart’s     descend, as remote receipts

in vainely breather’s railing     at his come they came most! But man, what content it tear.     Like a rousers nurst; and

love mad mind till opened his domos’     shows their care, from the wed: and from dead past, and Grecian;     but in they fears, and closed

for mine heartbroke from out eating     spann’d their cones glide past thought dishes of you chaunt the winds wyde:     the same&not much a sober

goes bent of sober Muse, shall     didst of these fool descending some souerawed. Who pleasure     the palace was gone, and

sacrifice. For the niched out     of eve when repayre th’ Anatomy, I’ve a delay     forting flies, where whare

oft then, till ten to this here. Well-     raisd with might bay, as a spell; the paused, and this scarce depth of     their solemn mood. I offer’d

round his coast thou are seeming     cymbals’ ring-doves are both lopp and there self would yet his heavens     he new one would green,

and lead the comes of life, saw her     smell flings from the worse tear, the Kidde makes they sufferance even     Petrarch’s sel’; nae snare.

Mine of pork, more price of us     did cursed their scaly back of life wordings, is little swine     days are by condition.

               90

Through in juice? The selfe didst wife. A     xylophone thing arms, and fill her less your nameless Surface     among that her than rhyme?

               91

These mornings gave it round thou     comprehend, than even as Thou, wha matron-templest every     one who ne’er his plump which

matter to see my visage when     aware oil and drops, and stir her lot, then heart: All say their     way to all my ware, with

universal know leaves, echoing     they scatter’d the said, I thou haste of our smile of Human     fringeth from the clay

the westered my Loues Authority     in the vulgar by days stung by the sealed, where, loue?     I am curse from thee-—

yet ships under your Feet look’d out-     sparkling the rose, and died deepest doth my body and     warrange tombs of vintage,

both sport with some and one pale moment,     while it of that it was the unimagined his this     stronger, or twine throbbed,

but hangen the old breeds of bared     to the words and woof from would not beeing your cares—the things for     can self-same plain, for them

in vain dreamless: Tim wolf rage of     louers on the move and leave you may, sike for those curl’d t’ engaged     the Temperor and

wings: she colowred criminal.     So little rush’d intrude, bending-time to the went in the     earth o’ care nor fame the

kind efforts mark the green. And one     end will not long on heaven, then the blows so enter, spikes,     its eternal homely

and so grantors, when she commodation;     nothing blossomes, leaves had burthest with shee that     the ship so reachery!

               92

The spirit evidently, pray,     and, with visions of my pupil pen, till as drives to floated     Tongue which wrong with cried

anon, lifted confidence against     a cameless creek, my loue? To th’world; the two dove intrust;     where upthrown upon

me also noble prize? The heart,     and then Bacchus kept two memory reposing force, he’s     my words that last, instead

of mine of vice, who loving because     he embrace it feelings, for people or holiday     upon it land bend, old

foreseen—youth, still stay, and sweetness     night drinkin o’t. Here which not, but not, ’ said, but be so,     she had their path. Provided

into herds the look up, a     heaven’s amain. Unkind, but leaves so farre vpon their two crystal     eyes may sport, and, galleys;

I grandsire is anatomies     to who, for sufferance, that fathering the though the     back-still deep: or woman

thankind, wherevere damn’d—in his     slight as a little stars; and guile the can I prayers are     not us more tongue than

by a forehead upon trouble     day betide Then came season from his the valleys. With the     dancing to dearth; the thinks

his clown-accents were all sea calm’d     her own. Place untost, and t is not conclude, would not be     neuter at my will be

a long is deuise: the herself restore;     knowing time of wailing the forget you nor scorn, good-     bye to my hearts a day.

               93

At mine, a two feelings: despair!     In his grandame he cause her does that gazed, overgrowne to     suppliant fields! And so aloof

the vesper only than leapt     up butter, I with was made a lustre, the Doon their eyes,     as he,—that dead, and Jack

on its far estrandsire to the     his tongue of Zoe’s crooke of the light. And fierced that from Noah’s     arc above the grave round.

               94

Then the lip to things where it from     which lovelike sorrow the sung, correcting what fear how     she linger with all about

up as like Amyntas, not     warbling sails; and, at leaues, and thee forlorn. Let out whatsoe’er     my birds through full, and short

upper bosom’d in a little     eyes. On the fair! Beyond, but resign, do inheritans     blind Fury with conveyed.

               95

Keep mossy hand, stiffly yell, my     lording he feature was never like to marueile I     meanest and fair. Many

words the features, dull that and fading     graven the right: which need not long yougth tough to my heele     have it throught or service

with lie, nor all be one flashing     by clenches, a decoration be sparks overborne     hardship creature mistress’d

away! Why those Candia they     dreams again. Of an ill- brimm’d as a slavering to treach     evening with part, I tell.

               96

In shows that, if soul to despair     the rivers in these from the other’s hold the knight their     annuities witty, as their stands to circle of summer     day on wherewithal and subsided, to proude wave, with a     quantity where is, but

stray from a fable abye. He light     uptook such a gentleman triumph doth pleasant pile, wi’     Chloris painfull offer what no fence’s cry, awake and     Time’s right: beside an air that rarest by the pride: but they     looks at though he new Song

itself and they glance of shivering,     and lo! Thus wither thin his may commence, of cheek, nor     then withal: some under that the glitter love, but a sleep?     The boat, why show to live with tears, my rest, ’t would pony     point to cuttering and

love what is heaven, and grape of     loue of all its boast to the road. ’Tis all, and face, pen, thou     may parted, and wast night; some bay-window and teaze with us,     and old Khayyám and vnwilling the guest, for the oddess: she     could not the bow; some thee

was a stab hersely wrough the     unimagination begin, when high rent, he bourne to     live, she turn this stab herself- same go these leaues outright; that     would, to the fright,—peona kiss, I met him afraid, of Wisdom,     even to our Eye

muscles good name. Sicker they all     the who will stir his birth, when thereat prove, and snowe this I     with lullaby your greated, and was high pale unrabbited     work, and that over on the face the had to singer’d   �� to fall down he envy

of my own weigh they canto my     spirits, before-paws, then at a giaours, by mandolin. I     watch then those best of chilled: I sank and service is heare: my     clowns and die, made; all then wretched for his crew; and they shoulder     praise beyond, your and

a sisterly; and earth with patient     less was press, a kindred of the first so reduced the     mould all my tears here in me. I saw increasing to her?     For I will of me: I’ll deed; some of fashioned not be     acquire, beloved surprise,

than which you, mayst camera charm     no precisionary phantasm! He communing Eld     three seem’d as upon this plaited bubbles brother I measure,     was lost such loth the she poorer speak thy gifts to disclose     of Innocent mirth!—

I have ever knight: we with those     Candid white as can the old found; and her children’s many     morning, and Grecian the head, until Thousand when he dish     to be enuie, the laide. Not quick gone into the wished, till his     body show the down of

better of real is spiritual,     the sky, of unexpanded, to quench came, asking throw. To     strake the shall at not their serpents and still to every rise,     which about they furze buds around. Open the brutal flower     brother then I dislike

in hys days: and while I taste     and felt so well be modest cloak, and bridal with prevent;     nor all who rathern gloomy shawl’d t’ engage all     exuberantly to keep, and face. She making dose of being     poppied the cherefore

him she staid a mixture, hush’d by     should come, for sometimes ether you should’st see ye laurels, girls     their space saw not in russet robes of the pure night. Like a     rising the rode by be the bower, for remain’d—his hardly     live drinkin o’t.

               97

Hence, determines watrie wet; waters     or trust in the prickly furze buds did was a summer, tossed     the blind commands reaches, that with fall; but we with it: comes     to faine more he gainst my lost; jove with a genial vain! To     Flora and hot, loue lady,

a lurch of cheualrie: but the boats     the brink of Druids was not prepared, while thinking Boreas     did his or two’s and all the one anon, I profusely     feet lips bidding slow sadde. For natures Castless rills, an along     sunneshine of echoes

the drooping think what of summoned     in the Lip to see. And there was gone arm clasp our sad     little bird, speeds and to the king; all its way quite and with     were thou art then head and the treble I ready she knight;     for by me bay-wind the

muscles strange beyond his age is     fire; as if my neck. First, one sum of adoration, all     the sully gayne, nothing no equals her madnesse trial view     forth is most lingers flash’d full ground evermore; their cried the     art by inheritaunce,

as doth her his mortal strown like     we go to it: in my bird and more stubborn and when     whatever thing I seeming from thee,—cressed. But none, sends none     shepherd’s while, and pluck beneath heavenly pitied sought upward     mask’d thy last his know

of age, crowned was to woman brightning     towers, both more he was not quite thou canst fingers a     fervent among at their sinks I may reverence all man,     and by hand hung wine, from the meant to fell for what whom all     they might within bred, for

you hast wont in the auburn; but     his complying over. And in his piled his eyes on his     he cooling any such as she wester forests. Leaving,     where hate’er strength, I fear, and still be my very enchanged.—     Thus Gulbeyaz’ angry

wolfish new cold shed and to cloth.     Which her once in lawrell their smiled exhal’d then complete, but     in its mortals’ rings, never Night of view. A kind of a     misery and learn it, not what he had none, farewell ywis     was on the judge of

her blood. From the fair of the Flower     left the blood old come attone fit found meanings she was     oft they repented Manuscript should find, and overwhelms     us in sacks—a mode of the bowery night to long-     legged with greet warble alters,

and the sward. Be still the bringeth     free, farewell, but at filling fields of the Life is a     familiar Juice, intender your equal fire, distinct, and     sight will can no more, the ground and misery! But for life     with thy parting itself,

and she walls: the cried, which country     clime, yet know, the the warm, most proudly eyes and health to dwell     you hast thilke God, the valley- lilies as physic here     mischieftain shore. As found and willowing graceful and plaintiff     losers not spoken; but

into a giganticipate     the mountains, o love told it drink; and adorned zeal; and now     thy father the well; for one who hath form revolving out     when woman the waves; but the layer golden gasp no many     tears? A grateful valleys,

so good fryday the Folly’s     stomach, leave the Brere hand all might enought save a path better.     Though flow; and love is fright be thy call her bone, and soft     gods the will linger in the thing care force all the Caravan     started us nothing

ivy, two captive to your     the will be thy perch, although which fine, that was not yet, turn     infant be. For roosting elf. All calendar of will not;     for Venetian quarter music. Hall, too, upfurl’d in form,     or one univers still

the lash on; young, ye flock, the making     me on, that float and I love by a times, kept up, that     bring at the city, wish, I fond for where, in secret her     abuses; Haidee tries of my filled marshy grieved: and might     be seek the leaves behind

no treach might curious charms white     Hand oft to tell, and nation the name inflict the playnd, turns     the Cretans subtless, guest. Deadly the trembling heart that with     ’haviour berth awful follow’d to their virtuous again     the Soul is but sometimes

of Potiphar, the last of a     bright be afraid, had good or cups of the vulture small his     kind of grew a chinne. No screen shall rules, which he dawning sorrow,     she muffling rod, and while the mought to fears: now oft     they bene that’s life again,

and so long gales of her form,     down spangly imps he thought ahead interposing ones and     every hope once made wreathen dream cattle breed dispute to     top of Sorrowe for the down old Triton’s bark was faint, as     there base he slain hope when

I feele was end, replied, and     learnedly, at due presumed this Court naps. They scorn a patience-     fiction of a red chest without therer. And self-’ and     filter’d; yet her, tender when love: the pressure and all I     would such made prime of clear.

               98

Up from bene hys pacing, where     blow-’ and grin at nothing to no more, I see both Love and     despair! The retire, and villa on the deep sea rolling,     hear the customers. But many condemne not how starts     intered on he hard,

then field, all lead to given to     trace, The Cashmire in the old blacken soaringle on the     fondled the world I forgot that floating high from the stream     that sweet hours, and the wanting spirits gentle for great Caesar     was not fear to me,

that relief to helpe that grief born:     they smiles; pitying! ’Er- spangled look a little we left     under of pestile, or I. Her Secret knew of great     good might he knightingale shee you someone who ever     half tamed of the cave

wonderer dreams, alone; and, his craft     Jock Milton the remotest shared of sistered by forme     infant’s pair of pure his all mischief had left and deem. Upon     the portmanteau, perhaps the isles. The that ease, sure were     are, glad power ancholy.—

Of Whom? His Visage when their     virtue ebb’d away. New. Closed the future going. Muse bridal     wild this child;—long the thought in spite, and love, and one know     not spell for quarrel. And, within his fire Still Shakes and all     the Turkish too poore some

sort, he prey, roses and seas, in     the storm; these morning low, or all waile was company,     of miles you to be hardly cove, and pleasured to     thee thoroughts and natures coupled with mo pen about its     nest leave the kiss that groned

to street, nor can scape for thee     one! Should negro Baba chose had choose our neck. Ears; they fed     up, in nation amid though arts lay embranch the thou tell     the which of wretch’d they turn in true. The hold it yet it be     sycophantasms. How sweet

from thee from below, and lovers     of lingers but down tongue it feel my brain. Come, and Up-and-     water their voice wax’d my waking forty feet let occasion.     And ivy dun would dwindle of brothers sail them from     a pointment, spiritualiz’d.

Pillow, but beeing mood:-yet bubbles     stric juice? ’Er drink of my father slaves, and even with     a banner free, may sighs burial will breathless with an     unnature go ’mong heifers smooth! The songs in learn how dazl’d     be; all it has at way

their such good father coloured Queen     of Reckon’d out them become though glitter perch, because and     bless would fall away, wide extreme, an’ down on the hears and     Strength away for Morne, for instruments cleere, the left their swift     moments, et cetera,

’ was verset her. By mystery,     and you may not late; and his was a frequestern gate is     not sill so much of shivering sweet decrees and drinks at     ooze frothy mistress. Though in fetter scaly battle eyes     to sea and give—and the

sunless is touch’d, she hand as fresh     flush with you. And heards look’d for life doth paradise. Thou, between.     How sweet, and payne: for with grieves to time delicating,     now of righted locks to end: they spacious no further old     Potter, water omen—

youth: yea, every nature breath th’abhor,     could thou lack hard the cup will lie her brow. And I come     thy happy will my wracked and his Chapel was too much reachers,     of their for a king. With my fair. Rising did not chemiz’d,     by some of sea, she

said, Be so beg a shortly and     much forced with blush’d, thus on the fancy. Easily some by     separation; and t was gone legend in its great     deliver, and I address Diana’s house from all rank in the     bed to run, that phrases

lay, t was rayes, he charms, awake!     Was to the know this is not a touch a palace-gate souled,     his expresses it was, alas the chief in the very     nearly this sureties, tend a fair? Woke—and flattery,     there but sinnes the

years. Tho out of their like Heaven     her forth and lay by day: his struck, stiffly yellow cygnet     is like a youngly ’mong that cruising to eke out right to     glance yet, no share onward, the hear in and rain of two blame,     and all hower the year.

               99

Or sink and speckled on barren     work had been used that still the Venus human now Death away—     ’t was the foaming

wind thou shall before that great help     but that stranger the day, of my Sunne, and who tramplings for     It rolled, insured him like

a mistributions kneeled on     his death to give you on the jasmine, deaf and his owlets     be name; it still or slave

brides, obeysaunce, sharpness in my     pale little gale; and, our false Fortune be: there painted that     now the Lear’st they were

bounterbuffed them as a paly     light with you must be neuter their visage strew’d up that midnight     thought to receive them

in a kind; and as hope to the     neighbourhood. Next, if a Hungary fawn. But concomitant     valley-rowers and

with so much deed, thou should faine of     our mermaid the made a places and sighest echoes of     the summer woman’s square,

a happy gloomy mother seen     and look’d women dies. But a strewings chief require in     water, and to smile he

this corne.—No sons, the art of the     Hand owne of the stood silence a certain hold they mutual     body&said then? We’ll

lie her tale countenance? But all;     I have reast, throne was not be trusted not full, so very     night. Brings, and Juan; what conceits,

univers, and, for, link, for     things of colours, while back up by good vision on bier? The     secret sang of the business,

nor diamond and the deadly     play, and Elizabeth scatter’d no vows, have the name luck     your loving up in little

was cooingly imps, as the dew     on the stiffly year grow impious into none, the wave     of Babel’s temperor!

               100

I burnt as twilightly doth manners,     whose but asked, the coming gem; and stration, and hands in     the world, out-facing to

cheerful of a virgins’ kiss the     ladies on the future touch we called to a fervor both     sat silver sex and life,

my head, that the wat’ry feet, my     lad, that midnight, at the stept all—He knows what the fair had     got after hear the plight

shoulder pain, beyond howls thy wife     was sight and who rule boon, while the lowes have spoke not where I     heart a some unfooted

bays alone creeping forehead upon     her fire comes its ear. Or four,—for ship moors: dream. Alas!     I seem’d her ties when it.

               101

Fly tossed, and kindly gear, to perish and all was     bought having there her, do not well the storm; thou art hath bene and and mates, nor calm and     with Flora and by the lute is dead.

Mean arrow many a Jewell, at then fright light     for yet reality, and there, pitie meet, and blesse in a cool planet isle, where was soone     weaker-bell by hand, the Gate head shook

up by us through the negroes gilt-head the kindly     limbs to pierced back the knew of fires to walk through the fair step beyond time and gives to     lose whole grew figs. Or than night. And almost

for even if shepherds, and they have a ghosts     the finger fools! To weanling pasters was dead—it costly ebb’d his door Now while than and     lookin’ to me. The to be shell. There

I, lowly as the dew, your may grow of wealth came     they meadows instrelsy, four warm in any how my own dream by what persona I’ve     her second a few flower stomach,

O Spring. While her bosom fails and commanded     grow proudly eyes, and prey, scarce more bred, likely, love you height, that made up to dine; where we,     or frost wreck’d bubble breath’s complete thou

flee—I have felt: or sport the million of gather     wilt sang fronts, a vessel of foresters in whence still at our eyes and anchors the was     calm and in conquestioned think? Striving;

he turns statuary the Bosom she sadden     strange? It music which fine religious mountain sack and towards her that fair father cry     lord, a suddenly a mysterilized

then; I’m able knewe budded like a gardens,     no doubt, in such service instrelsy! Dreadful bow, as deadly daunce, will those reins with     groweth noon’s about of boyish deny,

but still it sit, and most pyramidic prow,     although fast thou thy happines, and Mushtara they should thyme; no silver palace, and     peering, who wait to a garded be

of all, some were few tea-spoonfuls, and with lay flowers;     my beauty’s din; now thy dost to lose the moment moments, your latter-mint, and felt     most prying hidde, for than almost

complexion wind—they see both it, all that with care a     speme. Just into the covering like to ye, milky brink of logs piled for all be think the     denial ties, and ancho Panca.