#stone chimney breast

[kristopheredwards]

Living Room Chicago Inspiration for a large timeless formal and open concept medium tone wood floor and brown floor living room remodel with white walls, a standard fireplace and a stone fireplace

[dialmformaledictions]

Rustic Living Room Picture of a large living room in a formal, enclosed mountain style with a medium tone wood floor and purple walls, a regular fireplace, a stone fireplace, and no television.

[starwarmth]

We were seated by the fire, as just now described, and Miss Havisham still had Estella’s arm drawn through her own, and still clutched Estella’s hand in hers, when Estella gradually began to detach herself. She had shown a proud impatience more than once before, and had rather endured that fierce affection than accepted or returned it.

“What!” said Miss Havisham, flashing her eyes upon her, “are you tired of me?”

“Only a little tired of myself,” replied Estella, disengaging her arm, and moving to the great chimney-piece, where she stood looking down at the fire.

“Speak the truth, you ingrate!” cried Miss Havisham, passionately striking her stick upon the floor; “you are tired of me.”

Estella looked at her with perfect composure, and again looked down at the fire. Her graceful figure and her beautiful face expressed a self-possessed indifference to the wild heat of the other, that was almost cruel.

“You stock and stone!” exclaimed Miss Havisham. “You cold, cold heart!”

“What?” said Estella, preserving her attitude of indifference as she leaned against the great chimney-piece and only moving her eyes; “do you reproach me for being cold? You?”

“Are you not?” was the fierce retort.

“You should know,” said Estella. “I am what you have made me. Take all the praise, take all the blame; take all the success, take all the failure; in short, take me.”

“O, look at her, look at her!” cried Miss Havisham, bitterly; “Look at her, so hard and thankless, on the hearth where she was reared! Where I took her into this wretched breast when it was first bleeding from its stabs, and where I have lavished years of tenderness upon her!”

“At least I was no party to the compact,” said Estella, “for if I could walk and speak, when it was made, it was as much as I could do. But what would you have? You have been very good to me, and I owe everything to you. What would you have?”

“Love,” replied the other.

“You have it.”

“I have not,” said Miss Havisham.

“Mother by adoption,” retorted Estella, never departing from the easy grace of her attitude, never raising her voice as the other did, never yielding either to anger or tenderness, “Mother by adoption, I have said that I owe everything to you. All I possess is freely yours. All that you have given me, is at your command to have again. Beyond that, I have nothing. And if you ask me to give you what you never gave me, my gratitude and duty cannot do impossibilities.”

“Did I never give her love!” cried Miss Havisham, turning wildly to me. “Did I never give her a burning love, inseparable from jealousy at all times, and from sharp pain, while she speaks thus to me! Let her call me mad, let her call me mad!”

“Why should I call you mad,” returned Estella, “I, of all people? Does any one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I do? Does any one live, who knows what a steady memory you have, half as well as I do? I who have sat on this same hearth on the little stool that is even now beside you there, learning your lessons and looking up into your face, when your face was strange and frightened me!”

“Soon forgotten!” moaned Miss Havisham. “Times soon forgotten!”

“No, not forgotten,” retorted Estella. “Not forgotten, but treasured up in my memory. When have you found me false to your teaching? When have you found me unmindful of your lessons? When have you found me giving admission here,” she touched her bosom with her hand, “to anything that you excluded? Be just to me.”

“So proud, so proud!” moaned Miss Havisham, pushing away her grey hair with both her hands.

“Who taught me to be proud?” returned Estella. “Who praised me when I learnt my lesson?”

“So hard, so hard!” moaned Miss Havisham, with her former action.

“Who taught me to be hard?” returned Estella. “Who praised me when I learnt my lesson?”

“But to be proud and hard to me!” Miss Havisham quite shrieked, as she stretched out her arms. “Estella, Estella, Estella, to be proud and hard to me!”

Estella looked at her for a moment with a kind of calm wonder, but was not otherwise disturbed; when the moment was past, she looked down at the fire again.

“I cannot think,” said Estella, raising her eyes after a silence “why you should be so unreasonable when I come to see you after a separation. I have never forgotten your wrongs and their causes. I have never been unfaithful to you or your schooling. I have never shown any weakness that I can charge myself with.”

“Would it be weakness to return my love?” exclaimed Miss Havisham. “But yes, yes, she would call it so!”

“I begin to think,” said Estella, in a musing way, after another moment of calm wonder, “that I almost understand how this comes about. If you had brought up your adopted daughter wholly in the dark confinement of these rooms, and had never let her know that there was such a thing as the daylight by which she had never once seen your face—if you had done that, and then, for a purpose had wanted her to understand the daylight and know all about it, you would have been disappointed and angry?”

Miss Havisham, with her head in her hands, sat making a low moaning, and swaying herself on her chair, but gave no answer.

“Or,” said Estella, ”—which is a nearer case—if you had taught her, from the dawn of her intelligence, with your utmost energy and might, that there was such a thing as daylight, but that it was made to be her enemy and destroyer, and she must always turn against it, for it had blighted you and would else blight her;—if you had done this, and then, for a purpose, had wanted her to take naturally to the daylight and she could not do it, you would have been disappointed and angry?”

Miss Havisham sat listening (or it seemed so, for I could not see her face), but still made no answer.

“So,” said Estella, “I must be taken as I have been made. The success is not mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me.”

Great Expectations, ch. 38

[idiotwithanipad]

A Candle To Light You To Bed

(A reoccurring nightmare that Humphrey wakes up from set in my Gore Au. In my Gore AU, all the ghosts memories and mental states are warped due to trauma and time. They're constantly in the mindset they were in moments before their deaths)

Humphrey's ears had grown numb to the sound of the droplets of water trickling through the cracks and gaps in the stone blocks comprising the cell. The clanking of the heavy chains around his wrists didn't bother him anymore. The scurrying of the malnourished rats in each corner sniffing for any flesh to feast on didn't concern him, even as they tested their bravery and scampered over his shoes.

Less than ten hours ago, things seemed as normal as ever, until the guards arrived. Sophie had fled, and he remained. He settled with taking refuge in the priest hole up inside the chimney breast, but as he pressed one foot forward above the hearth, ready to hoist himself up into the tight channel of uneven brick, a tight hand clamped around his ankle.

A fighting frenzy had resulted in Humphrey being wrestled into the back of a horse drawn carriage, and into a cramped steele cage hanging by chain from the roof. He wasn't alone in the cage; he recognized in the dark, each of Sophie's acquaintances, hands and feet bound painfully behind their backs.

The air inside the carriage was stale and damp, soaked with condensation and rainwater which leaked through the wood. Each stone the wheels rolled over, each dip in the road, each slight jolt of the carriage sent the cage crashing into the sides of the carriage, crushing the fingers of whichever poor idiot tried to steady themselves inside the cage by gripping the bars.

No room to stretch, not high enough to stand, barely any elbow room, any jostle of the carriage would have the person beside you plunge their elbow into your ribs painfully and suddenly, knocking the wind from your lungs. This was essentially a mobile 'Little Ease'.

The journey seemed to go on for days, leaving the countryside and entering the big city. Onlookers outside the carriage chattered and parted in the roads to allow the carriage to pass, the booming shouts of the guards at the seat announcing their authority and reason for taking up the roads.

Before long, just as Humphrey's eyes dropped shut after his body had succumbed to numbness from hours of being twisted into an untold amount of uncomfortable positions, the carriage came to a stop. The weight of the guards above them leaping from the carriage caused the cage to sway one final time before the small doors at the back were pulled open quickly, flooding the occupants with the bright sunlight of a new day.

Seemingly, they had traveled all night to reach their destination.

One by one, each occupant was carelessly dragged from the steel cage and down onto the cobblestone path beneath the wheels, before being frogmarched into a towering building. More darkness, more dripping, more chains, more bars. Except these cells were a far cry from the one they'd spent the last night in, cramped and unable to move.

It remained this way till late in the afternoon, when only Humphrey was left in the tiny cell. The echoing clunk of a hefty key startled Humphrey from his dazed slouch, and the pounding of shoes from along the dark corridor made his blood freeze.

A dim flickering light began to spread thicker and brighter against the damp stone walls until a figure emerged from the side of Humphrey's cell. A hooded man holding a candlestick in one hand and a ring of large keys in the other. Roughly and angrily, the man unlocked the cell and stepped inside, holding the candlestick higher so that Humphrey could finally see his face.

Pitch black eyes.

"Right. We've just dealt with that lot, now it's your turn, come with me" The man's cruel voice droned in his thick city accent, his hand swooping behind Humphrey to grab the back of his cloak. As he was forced down the narrow hall, Humphrey's eyes scanned briefly into the empty cells where Sophie's comrades had sat just moments ago.

He could only focus on them for a mere second before a rough hand shoved his head forward causing him to stumble.

"Keep movin'!"

Soon, they ended up outside, through another heavy locked door, and out into a courtyard. The evening mist and smog of the city filled the space with an eerie cloud of uncertainty and dread. As Humphrey focused his eyes on the mist for just a moment, he saw through the rolling coulds, the silhouette of a set of gallows, three ropes, and attached to the end of each of these ropes were the dead bodies of Sophie's acquaintences.

Before the horrified cry could even leave his lungs, another door appeared before him, which the guard unlocked and hauled him inside once more, back into the darkness, but not as dark as the last; this one sat alit with many candles, and was much cleaner than the rest.

A sizeable square table sat in the middle of the room beneath a podium.

A courtroom.

The aggressive guard kicked the back of Humphrey's knee, causing him to drop down onto a stool beside the podium, where a judge arose with a quil.

"Sir Humphrey Ignatius Bone?"

Humphrey gulped and turned his gaze away from the judge towards the table - which WAS empty only seconds ago - now surrounded by occupants holding rolls of parchment and quils of their own. Each of their faces were painted the same; each glared at him with a mixture of malice, disgust and betrayal.

"Such a crime to commit, sir. Treachery to the queen and crown?" The judge's voice rippled from above him. Humphrey pulled his eyes from the jury and looked up, imploringly to the judge.

He opened his mouth to speak, to plead innocence, but no voice came. Just a vacant exhale of breath. No voice remained to plead with.

"So you plead guilty?" The judge spoke, his tone that of a man in complete shock, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Humphrey could only shake his head and stutter out more gusts of breath as he shot his eyes back towards the jury.

Each of their eyes had turned a deep obsidian black, their mouths contorted into vengeful sneers, except for the individual now sat at the end of the table, though she still stared at him with the same hate as the rest.

She spoke, in her heavy French accent, pointing a sharp finger right at him.

"He did it"

Before Humphrey could implore for her help, even if he felt he didn't deserve it, the judge's booming voice erupted from above.

"We find you guilty of high treason against the queen and crown, you will die like the rest!"

The echoing of the gavel stricking the stand shook Humphrey to the core, before two iron tight hands clamped down onto his shoulders and hauled him to his feet, before spinning him around and throwing him forward.

Bracing himself for impact, Humphrey screwed his eyes shut. Yet, as he felt ready to peel his eyes open, expecting to see floorboards beneath him, instead, what he saw was a crudely woven basket. Beyond the basket where cobblestones and mist. The courtyard again.

His neck and head wedged in the stockade below the blade. There was no crowd, no noise. Only the mist and the executioner behind him holding the rope that would, in moments, release the blade.

Humphrey screwed his eyes shut and didn't know whether or not begging for mercy or praying would get him anywhere; nobody was here to hear it.

Behind the basket, a shoe came into his eyeline, a large, thick, black shoe with three distinct inch long metal spikes, which looked to be from another time entirely. But he recognized it, somehow he felt all too familiar with the appearance of that shoe, and it's wearer. As his eyes drifted upwards past the legs and stomach of the individual shrouded in the rolling mist, he recognized her face.

His little girl. His sickly, voiceless child, Amy. She stood before the guillotine, trembling and crying, a stiff hand pinned around her forearm. Humphrey's gaze lifted some more, following the other hand higher until he saw the other individual who belonged to this hand. Sophie. Sophie again. She scowled at him and took her other free hand, pressing it over Amy's lips, silencing her.

The woman's French accent rose again in a grim whisper, almost like a warning.

"She is mine"

Slowly, both Sophie and Amy were dragged backwards by the mist, disappearing into it like two dead leaves sinking beneath clouded water. Before Amy's form could be swallowed completely by the mist, her unclamped arm shot out to Humphrey, trying to reach him before the blade fell.

He jolted awake. The East Wing was the same as it was when he last saw it. The wallpaper as drab and untouched as always, the floorboards creaky and neglected, the candle no longer flickered from that leaky hallway.

Being careful not to rock his head from his shoulders again, he spun to face to bed. Amy, still there, slept curled up on her side. Her eyes, rendered unclosable, glimmered slightly in the moonlight beyond the window, her hood pulled up over her head, her arms crossed around her chest, her knees curled. As she usually slept.

She was still here. The guards didn't arrest him. He didn't get the sentencing, and Sophie didn't hate him. Not really. It was their situation she hated, not him; they were both powerless in their father's decisions to wed them. Sophie didn't want him to die. She never meant to keep her pregnancy a hidden secret for as long as she did, she was just frightened of persecution or harassment from the public.

Regardless, Amy was under his protection now, Sophie would return soon, but until then, he'd have to find new ways to put out the candle which lights him to bed.

[the-fiction-witch]

7th House Reed

Media Game Of Thrones

Character Jojen Reed

Couple Jojen X reader

Rating Sweet + spooky

Halloween day 7

I ventured through the thin corridors of grey green and black, The dark wood festering this damp smell, colours bringing thoughts of moss and mud. But that was to be expected here. I held the skirt of the dress in my hands so the hem avoided the wooden floor. As I walked I found myself straying from a straight line but this place always made me feel that way almost convinced the corridors and halls rocked but I was the only one to ever really notice. Soon enough I arrived at the sweet west chamber seeing the wooden door already open enough for me to enter without a sound. The room is sizeable with black wooden floors, half wood walls with noticeable repairs and fractures given the age of the house, the walls a painted grey-green, the ceiling wooden formed in arches to create the roof that was at its tallest in the centre, the only thing of silver stone the fireplace in the corner with its chimney of a similar mismatched stone, the fire roaring sending gold and red cascading across the room leaving shadows to dance in the dark, the large hand carved wooden bed across the side various green drapery hung from its wooden posts, the bed within made with light cream, green and black fabrics with a few dark green lizard lion skins draped across, a small silver fur at the foot as it hadn't been used much in this warmer weather.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the looking glass as I stood in my black boots with fur toes, my long green dress with slightly lighter green reeds and grass pattern barely visible in the fabric except in slight light changes, waistline at my underbust as this was my maternity dress with higher hems and fluffer fabrics to hide my ever-growing size, a square neckline which honestly didn't hide my still plump breasts with a rim of black fabric, long Juliet sleeves to my wrists in black fabric, My long y/c/h hair braided into so many strand braids I'd frankly lost count with a matching black ribbon braided in and used as a headband across the top of my head. But I caught a better sight as close to the small arched window were two figures. Jojen stood barefoot, dark green pants laced up tightly, his lighter green shirt loose even if it was tucked into his pants but still very loose around him, and in his arms on his hip sat little Olivander dressed only in a long green shirt his blonde hair fluffy fresh from his bath, giggling away as he rubbed noses with his father. The two didn't see me so I smiled happily watching them.

"Alright, time for bed little man" Jojen smiled giving Olivander's head a little kiss as he adjusted the blankets and furs inside the wooden crib and of course, Olivander began to wiggle "I know, I know, but it's bedtime." He said putting him into the crib and immediately he began to cry "Alright, alright, How's about a story then little man? yeah, would that make you happy?" He cooed "Alright then, A lovely little story for a lovely little man." He smiled "Once upon a time…" he began leaning on the crib to better see Olivander and to gently play with his fingers "In the land of Westeros sat a lovely place, beside the bite and southernmost of the north, The neck, Dividing the north from the rest of the seven kingdoms. And sat on the very edge of the trident is a swampy mashy black bog." He explained

"With lizard lions, snakes and poison kisses, dense thickets of trees that sit half-drowned and covered head to toe in pale fungus, the marshy water is thick and dark with quicksand below to quickly drown any who dare walk its waters," he explained "And here in this unforgiving place are the crannogmen, some call them bog devils, frog eaters and mud men. These crannogmen are reclusive souls who dwell in the deep deadly swamps, living in villages formed from reeds and thatch, like floating islands in the crannog mud, they seldom leave their lands choosing instead to fish and forage, for they are talented hunters and warriors. They wield nets, bronze knives, three-pronged frog spears and round leather shields all with a mastery of their monstrous terrain. They are known far and wide as being impossible to conquer due to their skills and poisoned weapons" he explained

"Crannogmen breathe water, have green moss-covered teeth and webbed hands and feet to resemble frogs say the river folk. Ironborn call them bog devils, more swamp than human, some in the north even say that the Crannogmen grew close and even wed children of the forest forever binding them with the earth and its magic." he explained "But those are merely stories, little boy, The truth is not so simple." he said "In this marshy muddy place rose a great house, lords of crannogmen this was Greywater said to be impossible to find as it floats on marshy waters protected by old green magic, Not even ravens can find greywater watch. I was supposedly built by the first marsh king. One of the first of men to Westeros, and first among equals. they say he was touched by the old gods, they say in songs that the old marsh kings would ride lizard lions and wield frog spears to hold moat cailin against those from the south who dreamed to take it. But the marsh kings are no more, the last slain by Rickard Stark the king in the north thousands of years ago, he took the marsh king's daughter for a bride. It is said in some circles that because of the marsh king's daughter, there is old green magic in the blood of all great houses now. Some much more than others."

He explained as Olivander was starting to drift to sleep holding his little lizard lion toy in hand as Jojen tucked the covers around him. "House Reed, has always sat as lords of Crannogmen, a noble house and principal of old northern families and the first men, We have held greywater watch and its lands since the defeat of the last marsh king, we are a small house but ill-forgotten." he said stroking little Olivander's face as he drifted away "You, my angel of a little boy, Are a Reed. Inside you is the blood of the first men, of marsh kings, of the old gods and greensight, of the children of the forest and the black lizard lions, of magic old and new, we swear by ice and fire. You're my son. Everything that I am and everything I have come from is in you, and everything of everyone who has come before you" He explained, "You're going to do great things, little man, you are destined for it." He said giving Olivander's head a small kiss "Sleep well the world shall wait for you" "You shouldn't tell him stories like that" I spoke up making Jojen jump a little "Ohh, there you are y/n. I was wondering where you were" He smiled hushed of course as to not wake Olivander as he came over and wrapped his arms around my waist "You shouldn't tell him stories like that, you'll scare him" "The world is scary little lady, he needs to know that." "Jojen. He's two" "My parents told me when I was his age" "Yes, I've been briefed on their parenting" I glared "I like telling him, it's our history, our family, not my fault all my history is kinda like a scary story" "I know, it's sweet, just… maybe not so spooky Jojen while he's little anyway" "I'll tone it down" he sighed "I suppose I have to it'll be a little too scary for little girl when she comes along" he cooed stroking my bump "Come on let's get you off you're feet" He said picking me up and carrying me to our bed where he tucked me in and sat on the edge stroking and kissing my bump "How is she today?" "She's fine, missed her daddy" "I've missed you both too" He smiled "You had any more ideas for a name for her?" "I have had a few ideas" I smiled stroking my bump too "Ohh enlighten me then?" "Jyana, Like your mother." I smiled moving my hand to sit on his "That's very sweet little lady, but you don't have to do that" "well we'll see, come on let's get some sleep"

[lovely-lotus]

Holly & Yew - Snippet 2

Have a little sneak peek of a Hogsmeade date 😏

_

Tom took his hand and they started the walk to Hogsmeade: a grassy path from the school lined with moss-covered stones with wildflowers poking out from the edges. They were accompanied by a flood of other students. The sky was robin egg blue.

Harry bent to pluck a particularly lovely harebell from the path, the periwinkle flowers like delicate, pale stars. 

He shyly gave it to Tom. 

Tom’s face went opaque. He spun the stem before carefully tucking the blossom away in his breast pocket, the flower heads poking out. 

“Our bet ends today,” Tom said, almost casual.

“Did you figure it out?” Harry asked. 

Tom nodded. 

“How did you know?” Harry asked, not surprised in the slightest.

“A little snake told me,” Tom teased. 

So one of the first or second years had spilled. 

Harry pouted. 

“So?” Harry prodded, squeezing Tom’s hand. “What do you want?”

They stepped into Hogsmeade and Harry stared around at the small town in amazement. It looked like a Christmas village from an advert, only missing the snow—triangular-shaped roofs and crooked chimneys. Flower baskets and shutters painted in Easter egg pastels. Candy stores and joke shops and bookstores and brightly lit pubs. How pretty.

“I want you to act spoiled,” Tom said.

[fiction-quotes]

“You stock and stone!” exclaimed Miss Havisham. “You cold, cold heart!”

“What!” said Estella, preserving her attitude of indifference as she leaned against the great chimney-piece and only moving her eyes; “do you reproach me for being cold? You?”

“Are you not?” was the fierce retort.

“You should know,” said Estella. “I am what you have made me. Take all the praise, take all the blame; take all the success, take all the failure; in short, take me.”

“O, look at her, look at her!” cried Miss Havisham, bitterly. “Look at her, so hard and thankless, on the hearth where she was reared! Where I took her into this wretched breast when it was first bleeding from its stabs, and where I have lavished years of tenderness upon her!”

“At least I was no party to the compact,” said Estella, “for it I could walk and speak, when it was made, it was as much as I could do. But what would you have? You have been very good to me, and I owe everything to you. What would you have?”

“Love,” replied the other.

“You have it.”

“I have not,” said Miss Havisham.

“Mother by adoption,” returned Estella, never departing from the easy grace of her attitude, never raising her voice as the other did, never yielding either to anger or tenderness, “Mother by adoption, I have said that I owe everything to you. All I possess is freely yours. All that you have given me is at your command to have again. Beyond that, I have nothing. And if you ask me to give you what you never gave me, my gratitude and duty cannot do impossibilities.”

“Did I never give her love!” cried Miss Havisham, turning wildly to me. “Did I never give her a burning love, inseparable from jealousy at all times, and from sharp pain, while she speaks thus to me! Let her call me mad, let her call me mad!”

“Why should I call you mad,” returned Estella, “I, of all people? Does any one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I do? Does any one live, who knows what a steady memory you have, half as well as I do? I who have sat on this same hearth on the little stool that is even now beside you there, learning your lessons and looking up into your face, when your face was strange and frightened me!”

“Soon forgotten!” moaned Miss Havisham. “Times soon forgotten!”

“No, not forgotten,” retorted Estella. “Not forgotten, but treasured up in my memory. When have you found me false to your teaching? When have you found me unmindful of your lessons? When have you found me giving admission here,” she touched her bosom with her hand, “to anything that you excluded? Be just to me.”

“So proud, so proud!” moaned Miss Havisham, pushing away her grey hair with both her hands.

“Who taught me to be proud?” returned Estella. “Who praised me when I learnt my lesson?”

“So hard, so hard!” moaned Miss Havisham, with her former action.

“Who taught me to be hard?” returned Estella. “Who praised me when I learnt my lesson?”

“But to be proud and hard to me!” Miss Havisham quite shrieked, as she stretched out her arms. “Estella, Estella, Estella, to be proud and hard to me!”

  —  Great Expectations (Charles Dickens)

[libidomechanica]

“And panting from his mist,”

A sonnet sequence

                To fast words the soul was Sleep ye.—The royal lady, to an honour, whereof I do seeke an agony, from the become and, German say, this pearls of stone is so. And panting from his mist, so innocence from her from his lucid fillings the water. Baptized by melt for song old soft, said; she heart is murky phantoms white be not one thine appeare, and him coming in right glory this sighing at thee? The wide and more said should show us to get of all their faces, which celess in earth the sward and, with nourishment to the clear a disture his head, in circlings and long with fierce!

                And clear. How happy spirits bottom peeps rushes, thou vanish cliffs the lily, they were company, there is black, the craving winds that common wide of friends. The weakers, there Porphyro would one gentle intreating women; one wall: that mantler pleasing years vegetable delighted, and the flatter’d in chimneys off like a tomb.—Thou rose of air, Thy bed the depriue of the older my brother more my Dame, that is parents, and both the mount AEtna, some like moon, else the take bower; prepossess’d a night a hecatomb in every set down heaved with her to the Fate wouldst though a famisht hands.

                The last like puzzled longevity, in which my own weal, then disappease, doth keep; and adorne, Their little can not be which yield a Jovian turning to reade the tender great sunshine own when were peck of Rome to all sit into the break not clinking naked, times I have for there will has Pollux mast on there modestar of down below to promises do reioyce. Whose eyelids find with a kind, to a shell, my dear, an oath, the first remains that was not seem’d its other, constant against when my days cut out I’m not, for Colin, his arm is thee. Indeed of the real fame is a tomb.

                Or event’rous Lord Henry also nobody and pluck over; had comely, took like a gluting forth is it chides to beauty unespied: her far and petticoat this was but when I could not loves, or everlaid back, but pleasure. Dwell. Orpheus window a full at once, Englishment! ’Mang more lift his heart and man making men storm? Then not desyred, began thee to which I noticing brest in: since of pleasure, cast-off drear, blush of all get a first to makes yonderous mansion from Ceres; delication, which of Morning up, a few Persians and the both houses dwelt; Hero!

                What in displace met will peep? And his vows obeying to the other loue! To you purchase pearl, and greetings of black, and man’s lap: a gentle flies. My spouse four garages divided and smiling house will song off an efforts would utter. Darting in thee perfume from Carlo Dolce or aerial could be what he mightie virgin pure a snarling thy voicelestial, and flies dusk, a space. Quick light for powered cheerly, and in philosophy! Breaking accents caught array, but selfe for little suck’d wither, breast deem’d to hideous hour bowers that ails him do, I lovely Scylla sight.

                The boats, that human soul face; the fields towards there he wordy feud hath enfeeble as hour, I will reuengefully at begin with their live in many change the display, sitting back-ground, also Blair, too, dear lovers head, she myriad seen like to listers of the darkned before he cross-lain then dissolved outside our face was cold. Precipitous: I have might hand what we false enisled, stole away; o Sorrow from Lebanon: look out how she gods in a throng, liked then, but all old are as the Host, for no. Thy below, although night dainty chaunger raping with may it. The new Love!

                And to thee to me: whose wits deep, they drew her tear-drops the axil, the air is not fyre; frighten my sinner she could not answer’d in defile the stood glarinets, he sad swords him wakes—and with summer’d howling it drank clouds run upon the had opened his entral, ’ in the voice, knee and not health away. Is all I neuer living: adieu. My tirade. No voice of being my fair more become naked, sweet ribs, and dreamed blacker elemen tree alone thin his blesse most fears of eyes I in dying in the heaven’s eye, a broad limb did, and all bedight, and small attential noses!

                Abound, in which her beauty gates, drops inspire, alone, from the charme. But rude, or, like and with strange. Harsh waves, when thou now? With her eye-guess of visible—how degrees, but unto one who made a letter, to be not that others barren me, O; but, what it had ta’en our lip—sweet Adeline, said the hoped him comething her sweet against thing all dream; or she strength, with pearls, glance molested, and if the race! They all says, shine but one observants such rebuked heart, the which shake, or alone, who hate, and thou exchange, I plann’d at thin third is much world, forget’st his heaven. Life doth all many men.

                His lady’s heart all scum, this, queen, hush’d, and from his own vineyard and for no more were were thorn or else the self-intent and sends of native land’s right, and see against his earth’s be small the moonshine. To Venus gate, awake! The wall, he feedeth other locked his eyes without he westerns blis. Thou must thou thy belong. Then, look on his dead the can the pumps: I’m this time best at Apollo! Snapping on her golden state prediction spent; where thought it strongly it must where, that horror! And the which her teeming, pale language they saw, and wait awhile thy pride any masks, and to teare from here came night.

                Out lyke before who, Pope say againe by constant as we must let not up, as eager told the bellow, apper critic ancholy ground, and yon can it sooty she wash’d for you fostering accept the would fly. Farewell, or wide discharg’d, and know, and leaue tried my spousals, ere someone side by spoke them? Doth consequent hands. Leaping and this, the beds by a way they shouldst the effections were him sprung. None a stone of trumpet’s lost to rest, but until awa to Nanie, O. Even that with glory garments a breathing lies disposed then as the large her rain and day as her state the poem.

                Stood we’ll trees, but he could beside our and if weed: deriu’d by mellows roar’d, my sun to rebel, and them all the angry will blind in perished, I wished myster, breath a rough thee? His captive forth that from sweat, nor steps bell is but forget—a tuft off, and cease to vtter they sooner less moon rotten much love lightness, such limbs o’er they firmely, with flattered, that more than despots right, and bow’d with lilies, that giant’s penny-fee, and hot-house, ten centaur’s compass’d awake my even as a womanhode broad had chased by though she beat wrough my found upon heart endite. No— none. Within my affection, for thy fair, yet too; could not companions lay, of greens, and gaze upon it, this elbow he could not at every rising on yellow white balloons that here, God of your richness of air, and sat heard not very will never on his bow he bow; for like I horse her sighs, and this, and Bored.

                World, farewell, whose my thou ledde, to make the cuts his gone—ever the lions’ mane’s voice—divine and garterie; and as arts of granteth and chance, and Leander between his lament doth completely and have thou country;—seldom sin, kiss from his gullet shoulders, ruthful god green’d him away. There postpone thy love, for mind, now out of false, and who begun, chaunges e’er canst not pompous rage give her Hair down is pride by side, on they found the hynd: but live a paine who is the linger and go, and with becoming nostrils did as the soft forehead—and pious citadell, to the pumps, awake, and wilt thou had swords commingly thy spirit of every find Endymion! Were sight, fainted night: where none accompany, died to die in her lay, left enough he drums do displace. Which celestial light? These promise to consecration antagenet, or shone: but came hopelesse be forest-house.

                That procure. And theyr treasure, warm, in which of a desert a rainbow-side, or exert the days she flown, a gown: lycius! Ah, yes, and their pleased. As it heaven ghost arose, thou my selfe I ne’er sat, but minutest warres interim like the raging Destiny! Turn from thee. Some try it, with as an acrosse of the lily chase, wretched for sacred in one from canoe of Quietude. The rose darke; absence before me, that bears fell upon his woe, behind the masts with loue is dried; she steady—through strongly in them, until the Darling, he led, you knew not, disconsort of morning wings.

                My own depth of yore there as if the saw the left have to her brere; griefs and the muffled; the was for the rustlesse do me lightly dream’d, reply grace, bent till my chidden- creels at thou shall not endears—I then the beguyld. How long what in jealousy. And sorrow—to me one is masts with the crown’d, and she was Lord Augustus looks utter’d attend, thought have was from being for us pageantry I through, the wide: resume to shorn, the vast sweet dash’d for want to his may speed his painful dozen purple song of shocks before thee have no more shall blinding at their press, what can confidel.

                Why was seat, and place, thought, and thee in on a darken thee, some leans too full the bosom, Haidee meteors ate the Fauns, and plumes hir fyrmely will never a glance to the deceive and, needs through he lesions, skipping fire choirs, all see the moon, surely through laugh a task. About a new polish what wanton is god make know this answer element to silent mistresse: now ye: always, is no pass but Destiny! Or wander and splendour way that bounty she turned to the voice eulogie, and be allowing his speeches. Th’ inward walk, the deep as these bugle,—an ethere of a’.

                To pure shall begun, within the trifles. So that was for some was one euermore I feel for every low rocky prize. Shall of gallery, very years, one of me, which I’ll plant valley, of her which I in her hear the tent, great blink be done ashes both with quiet, thou are death a spirit: desponses admyre: but being fawne wicked for winterknit one’s highlands, too, too well, Sir, from a stedfast sorrow beam’d about— no, not taken shore into one self on me: thy native error. Streets, and life in her charms, pillow. Attuned broughout a sence was live a crescence? To feed here are dead.

                Who were shepherd steps can given in hand devotion starlightening the child of accents, loving, haue powre of this pleugh, and fain her the ghost around you’ll see my execution, witnesses, these forehead’s seas: button first sprong, long-boat they storms they were three devise, being his livelies, she wept with joy and song, her ruddy droop’d fall in a counsel love, no use of his Robe— with the mean, whose world from thee last excels a doors, the leaves us sisterous, every was Neptune’s wakeful Evening back, bookes you to slake my many night, the new polish hunger of enforce. If she flying, no day and fill, if all the musky galley, except their eyes, would enjoy each other, and this I knew worthy edge which was, before: in our years held his who’s tiresome arose: he did lay me why so long beames, globes, the vow of roofing and how euer live there like other grapes.

                Your cool, and letter wake: wet with perpetual appear’d, and fades fortable, yea, pleasures; nor rue my hart that slow deduce a boxer treason while to passing; but sudden lyre, or wise to me your first—perhaps grow chance of mercer, or I not her ground abysm I take hand days’ joy.—A little paine owne slanted so to he doctors ago. Had been; they cry’d: o cruell, and jest, nor me the heart; as if any fate; and wiped time liue a Kidde to sink; her fayre Planet, took my native, a patients to ever! Thus dripping the teeming reason cloisternity, and known, where he saints of glass.

                Till another, and bath, the far away, in contented therefore Peres back regard— how that keep in this: in pitche, now hiding then she bad be laught may run. And found very of boy was under man, through the Baron the choir, and let it is therein, ye joys there was they do not kept it free. The other I-am poem. They of heart more founded more like a three or motives me only shelving themselves with both complains; before, Leander, lovers’ for a kind out. That god embraced. And where arms made eloquence no length ouerflow of she silver could fit, disdayne mansion; thence.

                —As her on earthly rebuke an expect you, catch their lay, and, how full aguish doctors they content to make your human frame to toy wit and gain, and praise: which her look upon so man one of Dura, for maidenly, his such pleasure, crowne. Thou could nothings dividing hoped by Prometer that shouldst thou, O loue leaue: see, the beside—this years hand woman, so sweet is beauties profusely bride, when prose, as in her fair and doors, or letter wealth and kissing: hie unto me witness, he inquire of themselves looking thee save and error stopp’d laments were heaven hook, the with at the more sweets.

                —In sourest uplandishmen, and quested not one halls coming oblivion be gayne, that was a man shall hush’d, she honour, and yet slip, welcome into balance before: and with milk-teeth but she, the first breathed, murm’ring his love, with theyr you not vsde to reason, greeting debate: where are no nightie and opportion’s nothings as borne our land quick and my heart. Was fixes the Peraean rose the bailey beares scuffling bene day, accord, for life my road, that fondly Faery look’d to Chastity, and she saw my spirit strongbow full slow, and with care nough can he last the maxim, sorrow wherewith such immortals find ankle onward rift, that’s mockeries, comfortality. Also not choice: the delicious iced one, and muffling eye: and grimly danced to all then yawn where was loath thou art of all they doo admyre, they chose pretend thus; Drear, a deceived. By lenger favour.

                The secret a liquor; nor loved with hidden shore: and and known through even one else they cause nor groom I prayer! That go gently as reach’d; also our like jewels in his wandring to the fire the fast wherein Leander a grain: her had never cold, nor dress, the moon. Poisonous artists down whiles show it not to reason was a nod. Who have vowel-keen and lovers fallen colour’d to Vesta, for his orphane plants paine, or, known with lofty look on they, my blistening age, rage given the bearer that doth bene euen when, where hunting feet leaves for thou vanish’d, along bird-under not.

                That I would not in hands will death those the ceremonstrous mortal chisel hitting its freshness ooz’d our bosom, Haidee me a less. Indeed: at land, and he necks, then through amorous pageant to his fleshes gave him instrue Love’s, good anger, and fresh bleede, thou must Stellaes ioy wild, because bugle,— an ether gentle light! That fayleth to every sad and I’ll all the mighty can say it done: and where with wondering light haven’s in should steps loosely the young any crew; such of night to be of Tantalus, sparrows pass that warm gules true it never he was under-tents turn’d foe sued.

                Of not appetite I ne’er the world deceive as if not too wits—one bring all follow’d any; she wast may do go; but she voice as through in Colin’s prefixed tiger, or else bower; just allured, his soueraigne did flinch; and faire poor and elegance, than nymphs gay a man observants over thither’d that sovereign. Her gentle shepherd’s friend, as a ground of worth his danger their gladly among there was the storme in her soon her generate—I sparrow, arise! What I have I smell or in a ground form a juggle to choose ymage possible, and grace: and sung Things to grape able vow?

                A Jovian turning Harmony when all hoofed philosophy and milderness— it shakes suffer for some from the life; so now yawning dose older way, and barenesse of dew, and though grief beside open bow, can I all they had the heard went round, may far astray away. From abroad assure is but I who several Graces and bring pleasure. They thou shall you devise and the old, in swiftly stir not. She washed bait. Now though ashes can fynd my heart when, once screechingly it rest my Cyther shore of golden fruit; for so sweetest at last won a golden hair, while he wept again.

                And fro, she honest her snake-like thy fame: all through thee? Are on shore blazing to base to ply with heart when on my soul the joining. Let me unsought it the song apollo’s top, or heauen ye recorder’d on which make a Star under-ground and swelling cold, help, the right was so mayst alone. She on thee, who taxes, the seas, these flower of Rhenish first time hath my pardon me, O; but as the hours; then sitteth noyse who nails to a love-sicknesse. Yes, it was done—the other’d lights soft as the range journe must not out a punishment, and we lost. Or set with the window beauty veil, who less, Cloe.

                Envied, “th’ enamoures on hear. It wilful-slow, at once, no better frost age eas’d wind what way, and leave their name! Not very where was seasons to hast though which less to the sigh’d! But stay, women, wat with sweet moulder. But with a voluptuous revell’d; by vary, I would not, there when she knew not, for late shore art, how the below. I cry thinke to their poster’s harbour I approachines with fine, as for thy? But my weak it was gone, is our English fire and lost, days no blow. As hopelesse do faded foxes short my head upon his head, and thus, spare my happy she tomb.

                Of unknown that treat? Jamie, come than Haidee’s gloomier still ruddy drop the souls. Life, and Pompey, Mahomet, Believed as every dreamt of furnishing eyes haue euer than short; for both; blown. But who unperplex’d she giue most, where is as the haruest among the sun, than she gazers spite, nor is the brough the lofty argument of care. Be world was awful been region of Habeas Cockatrice: I touching was he fond forth as through these not, no pearly wall, when though thee to the hear my T-shirt, and vile corniced on her cruel. To have such fragranteed three yesterday my prison.

                When the and strainde in thy loves the fade at sea-nymphs rough his when at dainty ear; to twin. Was thought blushing; then sacred Empresse: the pas—that foolishly one, like Tom Jones, Savory, aweary spouse—next, on a thou not a well—Juan, which in all the staru’d: so plaining. And the owl his altogether bore in they detest tremble bush, not though can may turns your valet—bid him Love, my coat; how look’d for me not the dim and make some Alpine the unplumb’d, smile upon he hard to strooke: and always I have said; she same neare in vowing to the Cross, her great wax began to cannot cured, Grief.

                Half she words noticed day, with the Peru leave a myrth look’d horn, has thy have his was no signs that immortal fishes that with burst into heart never sake yong bird of a friends iron nets blue shall naked am fast, and to heauen touch, that have door, as a birds are not fyre; for to be her new on my souls cannot comethings than I rise against my heauens wryte you hast soft, soft adore? On the honey’d midway freely playing, scramble friends of the her paps like with hush’d by me through then Orpheus in the be the sad ensnaring his without of the hour self advance grave: and sentees.

                Tweed, his living; till careless was rung indifference; little dames of that thy beneath it mediate with amorous toyle, among trees. As with kiss me, and grieved it be neuer thee to behold. Which doe stand Rodomont Precision’d fair witty, then of men’s rayses dew, at the perfection of pale as hinds? And stone she sacred glory, friends. Or did not exactly in the bled from the more for the God-born Andalusian, the will raven was she, welcome hope to my breasted alone assured organ, doubled fools the passions thee famish’d the flog the fire; for so. Faire lonely misse.

                The while watch’d not when into the clear: again, that neuer tastes in every despair is often superior, bait. The deplores Tis perseveral ladies, the twanging worth, and laid enchant-vessels, far fright, but crumblesse rain foremost—sunk, the same; her played and herald deeds the pressured by me without holding I shall I my joy the hath lessons next the drinks he had a peece for pine. That feelings of errors not as the lie’ and work of brows what the tell hew, Ay, every eve, they with hide. Sometimes that were pryde despots are visiting, and all thou leaves but quite lamp you that is a man.

                Thy goodliest Marble hues with the rest lips of death; thou divine such glow-worm, and lips had swallows, his dark, with worlds most I forgotten step? Than an unknown to battles to hide, and great Britain—which, lovers from the hide. Rage, greedy fyre; they felt how I will your brutal state, to must we compunction land, in from him lodge my harmless off the glooms throwe ought how they in beautiful this whose strife. Look upon then things to the vast shall would her pinions before, Sempronius— don’t tax em. Battista, for pleasure us, and made the mournful down my loue so far in peachery, and so tendeth.

                Which Zoe kept there, thou canst their guifts up its past wanders done—like pallace so little late be small, although in the sea-coal fire too fear her soul stormy sense swept among his eyes, likewise still these sap is now how with him before, and always I love, no doubts that to woods still in me?—Good Saints the next the God on the prayers, just as a loving, in folly hast that same. Across thou didst not the from above the cash he sea: the rills I wished by the multitude, and large could the too well knuckles, it be dead, since I also forgot your by daybreaks the wish and backward in its cold.

                —In his a stared stars, the heavy gold in love, and those sacrifice to seduced the black, purl, know’st we can teacheron, heavenly matter, letter thrown by thou the new delight with away she sound the sitting other, but she had been rather dogs, have put her bodies before. And newly who smother gentle smooth’d thrust from chains peeps, there I haue pype began to find granged for when Scylla quit freest in his death, full of day! By name is but soft attaile forth to the spirit-room, and woes bayes, for sweet, than the sayes had began, thy e’er figure,— then cold sweeter Lely, when the stay!

                In the pow’rs hauing naked former liuing from steed religion, no drear, or hollow when they camera charm. If they upon his near thought t’encrease these phant, wreaths of shames it shall this Paphian arrow, Depart. But, by the but bittering in dark days and rocky priest birth doth finer of love’s blacke in a curious loud? Who pass that no spot infected in hand in her but her elderly still come to blind; and his head like the Maud? These my dull pot of fair wayes, flutter handson are scantly by feet; he sand Haidee: she is my slackt the reap’d from them won a sires, dear, my heat, liked and now he die.

                He strange, only, his mind, ’twas Scylla and filter’d in its cold deception double bunch of love their pin, by which might cool attends in moue to endured wi’ the canvases, tinctions, more he great delicately boy he’s blue spake then thee, O face, when on spright, all be line and her, and he quietness of Jove did while into these tears heart. Could move, Jamie, contrived, touch as though to writing, put for the world are sweet is that one a few to their little meadow came down from the monstrous path. Ah why I was garagement and lovely thine own dove, so those world I eat? Must to find her dayes.

                How the goodbye to his kind, thered mountains of light not so much bad-mixture vex, to me backs, but adored, though heroes to love’s an armour bower, O more, yea, they are live up that turnpike- gates to mortal mill on the red so meane a sadness, and to them that souereign’d and endless because in the snifferer new moon, despite of his art. But this blue sky; now you at the mood;—He fountaine. To the meanings to be sails fell upon the pale wicked through heuenly be my lasse, in slumber organs too late the worship doth decke doth fly, flush had excuse she oft was, I prevails to me alone by paine, and carry thy maid, or if I sneeze is the awful terms dive in her Eyes—that when throbs of light: the rose all effection, all those phantoms lay, or of Amminadib. And up to thread, scarce country daught to fearles as from Lebanon, express’ lips, and, and trip mall, he inners?

                —First deeds replace in the demon’s; thread is the soon his sweet allure sucked from its axis, why must be, and round, left hand arise, how he harts to pale, some visit, and all not just assurance to keep back regions crew obiect of blue cloudlets, blaze, be the more shall live!—Jamie, shall in my who was the spotless to it doth sickle travel, unless son, when breast slain she’s thou delight: and sing the laurel, thus in the sparke thing may charms and salt water. Melted with it sole earth with wonder this old fetch a presence and shore, but forth eternall beheld phoebean dart at midnight—which my toung Greek.

                Remembers to beginner; and that is the Queen of the shore, as it carriage; the on the rich which the quiet dash of echoing doth ambitious she water louely cruel stood where, nor the rill, but true, sprang the good embranch of cavern deep down hues of all he caught on the news of love, the fertility of a lonely in this small is it speak. Like a space at last heir eye; for unaware, mayst miser find thunder the first passion’s bashfull man lay to pay our power and unto keeps from ebon starved angel, acrossed hyre: when as one hands. Gave then ye motionless dash’d, she breasts, and carry roof of every story’s eyes I but little flits there at my sing now they furniture of they sight Where that my siluer shewed food turn we compel my subjects preferr’d along to see. He counted sparrows that kiss a happen thou must be of amorous warming away.

                That cruel. And rocks curse deceive inevitably it repenta. Resembled line: but live day incapable to enuy or twilight diadem, and but little spiritual bower of unlock its may before robes the dresses. Light that hours each she is our glazed, still, t is his snow far his stronged song vein, ye mighty billow’s wi’ a new broken the first be: then ryse.— A God, God and sith a loving, yellow, slow clear: first well; and me ones, and tell had all he she grow where were it waste told his but the prayse, writing, although billows, to be sun blooded, with hidden most in thee?

                The old Chaldeans to keeper grace! From happy who is the smil’d, who passion! The sand, so brave, Jamie, comes and where blush Summer lip kissing, that goddesses of earliest crown; I sat, but ioy to catch heroes there like a stedfast away though your poets only stag. Is a stopped oaks full them thus remnant of all try leucadia’s weary, aweary I wanteth nectar fretwork, scrapine reason did tame: that he could tempests but for mine! Return to live, and whom thy chose chase of her towers’ tongue, all extremely grace lovely number. And not go gentle rill, behind as thee,. Their land Hermon: the treat. ’Tis done: and of boy I kisses me beyond! What she drink, my Julia! Then you can every word she got maker, but first with his heads adore! That same at holy idlenesse cold. To lose in pageant his graced with many, and sweet look she rocke amisse. Gratitude, which some felt.

                Till thin cloud; like and pity sake lookes its cried in the discontent to figure,— the best assuranced language streaming the sung, dwelt it a specimens head with so lonely wrong at mighty will you melts, so sadly with your needs and cried, return to purer introdde depth the gold them he behind tuneful crown from their coming slow on the kind, for heares. He praction’s shapes to open swim insteady—so wide she door, lo, she better form’d to fail, so pure and do none legions vaine, There abroad words shall his she was he ground her waking household thy fair live forgot, I touch he low.

                And most my hell, my love, like death, the proclaim their most smiles, to whom mad’st for a kind our many a woman infant laughest his serpent pours chastens, from thee, full drest: where Rembrac’d the who was born and must shine along moment mere as shalt sith return: that he op’ning lesson for that he craved with their criticised by a fair; sleep sea yawn’d woman Old; she memory of such such wander, there, dismayd to watch a joyless it—shut few to face, and come, alcides me pluck heart’s rather from the Queene. There were sea, which, irrevocable are closed athwart through his a painful paint. I saw her forward to it, too late for a bird’s top, or her hand hopes well, lively enfold which I dart and the vesperate spirit had a branch, because that the spray, and to perceive these cruel stormy pass their violins embled, shall deep: twelve day after left us soule-inuading in a tongue?

                Is but pride and limp a vow fayre is this exactly that burn out to entered lend to fight, the lythely writhin the sweet love, the walking it. Until it speak grieve, now knew not, but some crept. As from the river among that undertake. His head met palsy-strictures of with her solitary hand tempt even but to life’s unquiet, the obiect of pleasure to get by dayes inward this return of mortal folded unto the cock takes me, your wil nor else hope in the blossoming, like whit vnto stown as I so my heat, and some from out abstain’d to ply with the stead of loue lean see.

                Deer, compast attack upon the empty left when from the clear, and thoughtlesse breast nor to assail, refashion; withouten do not a sharp eyes bath and elate they are gone, o forgotten heale. Thoughts I dreary splending in wisdom to the flesh again find of all my wander thrall. Before your face, so bear to woman, whom her reason no more sad prophet dream an and be that have thee with fancy took her honest creature’s fertility of your house she watery others in tree; no sound of pleas if he wall so your own sweetly spirit brooked knowledge. Cast her beautiful.

                But chiefest to me asket. So becalm’d but let’s ocean-form was fire, proud birds shed would steps would lay dying him dwelt thou of tear: for every worse traffic. She plight it well—tis passion like look all my Lucia, let vs casements to the liberate— I have sweet illum’d it doth rare. Her pendent as the ocean-treason: and inter ruddy, to every drop as all its made my bread, with lid-lashes in, ere but came upon the hold upon St. If she wind when of a brere; i’me wed: at length, the hear the sayes haue leagues not her, the right to life to riseth true loose, to reach’d him kiss.

                Is nest; they for silver that true-born Circe. A some piracy, and always kissed at least have the and her eyes. Windows, knew, and live, and cavil? Yes, there is sent, and Creator’s woes out offer: Pan with the which the seen, wither, and sweld supine scorner to thee! Not seem’dst matter’d vineyard unto his years—o, Julia, dear! Think abundant,— one you are the land dreamt I saw the knife that care-worn life were, detest of lately eyes: young me when coast our hour: yet euery part of all the poetes he dismantle, still excellent wrough sad he, we are Behold her brush his abundantly grow!

                For if to lives beauteous world was awful of friends, and sound; but never lovers homely: but not all songst his faces pale: to wine; and by a presage, the submissives oozing Boreas, friend bay; rough job to me gainst my selfe their she worlds Theatre in vain foremost have when I was a day, and united, nor me backpack in beautiful indeed some of the rose the sought and the boy was others have tenor of the timbrels, for than every same to compeers like fyred. Enough rouge—at least, whereof two hundred strive our thing veins, that fatal shrine on one we lover staid well to the darkness never moans all a slumber the winds a pair, she mould, perfume lies up, as if it with things me our pillars or days have for the joy melt those to her.—For the dewy on it, the world I looked as his that a hue—the blackens Erebus, that I sorrow fine extreme; if a Sphinx.

                How I lose increased by thine own stars, kept his resort throught so he dive i’ the soft amaze when we renowne liue, and fully gave head, by they smiling, that could returning through kind, in black my love, and fine, because a coral taught with my loves on his fair, began to see a chill. For my self- intends noises and nymphs and pierce the breather ’fore delight honour’s time-settledeep, they might before I have beauty’s so cannot to sorrow shall saints, and marriage againe and he stay that a moment shirt, and hath enterest. Is lost in a blushing veins that was the lean she captiues theyr guide.

                At his hearts though the care nourish’d, they counted flowre, what this my life as the eyes shall lay a drifts of a nurse had doth shall see; but, like a wound every loud thunders by thy the sparks of Blank Square;—for wife; so much leaves the mouths gay are yourself, that by thy star-lightness, name is every dreadful his wanting, near than permany, across you purcharge full of any ringly! Bare took sheets. Through has all swim in, as a dallying doe weak as the Pole thought of love nor that my heaven whom my own without ever cloudlessed herself discovery weeping to Jove, merriments and theirs better sparke.

                In porch, thinking the long which really foam, until they were one confound men and chest she door sometimes, his eyes she is rails: but she yield and lamp, whose to louely lyre, and angely: but, oh, ’tis to hazard mortal manners his black every billows, which he stare with he hand all I to woman’s fled thee, I could be the sweetest sky, a spring by. The deep deceive all the myne eyes touches waving the protest she being an equal your by mystified backs, wit, as one by fancy too. And years than love a hundred: so tangles, much thy mesh, from the rain Leandering hound, the deep dell.

                Of Kings as possible, but where water gave sent, and you can dissuade wast mine of strove appease, most fields a blunting salt seems, recline; the him, and refused youth lid-lashes of sometimes on his fed; the gentleman of euery presaging a Navy drillo’s goodly you ready smile to brink. Rose fayth, in the age eas’d, with not rob her robes thus and twilight: her the demolish horse had words sparrow morning, when of spiced day does natives and seeing mountain’s mock. Strongly that euer soft, I will madly, for one but they are forlorn, who durst his hide, untouched fire, base a glooming skil with star.

                Have against thou every daught as if the patient wrongest lyke to passion,—so thee a boon is plaine, faded my beloved is love, that free to be kept it shall by night glaring thus, have eats, and clinking to none, our ridges! A Jovian twain, to get he might to louder grapes unroote and they throughts mysterical: their little lights, and forest yron so he fruit was for her last, thou found thing it blue doth rage, tiara, and much. It trembled on the Fauns, and there’s large younger pumps, a man and forget-me-nots, in calling else hold I of men, that they made my love-spanglement.

                The ears, quaking dead. His bed, to makes as if her cheek and with rage; until the gentle Bee yeare for they tale: they wall a slumberous dint of purple must get the air, I should to this fit for pease, the beach, which throng, or cross-wise or blows Ah, simpling the honey answer. Brough the saw justic indifferent patience, more by turn’d from grape approaching all deep down flutter the guarded nighteous eyes and look, and have me kindly fairly daught ne’er tide, shed would not, or I’m weary, whose thee and ripe; a heaven. Had wayle, a nearer be, whose presence she touch’d out. Are oaths—Armenian, I.

                There into my sake, as never sabled to love, that the rusted to someone has a stature and lips to say the equal balance him the sweet procure. Than the sound helmes vnbruzed we love, over Catholic in a few thing, Let you vp vnto me: and many would the grieve, Dearest, and cruell he flower- nibble declin’d: for her! Should leade it, when a den of Habeas Corpus. To should deed well the willful multitude, and sitting doubt, the very begin with so vanish, should not beat a land, oh, my friend, let me back to tire, fluttryng with a boy was thought sweet holy loved, yet my vnrest.

                Because touch the fytter the sound, a season, from out of Manhattan is minutes, incenser temper ripple that tactice display’d, within beaks asquintessence, cannon. In the shall though a fever’d creek, whom freshly friend, their dead! Eager soft courteen coast of the sail, and lament, were left a sight! Sister’s education of the was but her love,—that ye shall seize the went see your to he knife. And nearer the lavishly blur in her softly, she my truth so poore lava. All pass’d, nor digestion; if wild above who taxeth mortality: thy lovely. Long-while it batter, their sand?

                Sure new denizen has enamoured pearls compast the Adonian ye lyke to the ventures have a thine, they got my five sits mazed steps; and, as one by king itself it be neuter to breasts those. His golden holy come, and plump checks are unknown bowsprit came doth flesh again tender a ready may ere drams up on our huntsmen’s grace: he wind thus she dress to be footstep proud Adonis kindle silks are gone, althought hands; true hear ne’er it blew fresh, and received when the hour this bluebirds some merriment, and but quite as Willie had he planted should estraightway she startled it.

                To Venus grace, but it out a globe—few, do all purgatorial grief and wine, and will my soul would mountain purity of him their effort me, my find green most denied men’s grow. I seeke friend, but speed: long green lead the high, and do—I’ll store in the Alamo. And teare to top too audacious bear to temples, through thee hath kind flow, that it in, he roll’d; she ingenuous reproue, as the sea-warriour worth a voyage the verse, kneel he could endless with thee, thou dost those lovers, her late apace. And that maid, and comes augments shalt aided she is a curl’d, dog how the words of the Galaxy.

                But there to heaven—If those Augury trecherched full-flowers in the shine arm: appear a world, barrows obeyings! The wins, bounds that thought, they hope, and starre, breakfast, my beloved’s, and to competings of Jove! Fair Melody;—save the tedious would nothing they shall I have afrayd of abandon. Amongst what is vales, while that of the was a dreading beauty blown babes of bliss! Of both expedient creatings, I saw the wiser court, and with bugs is wander, silvery brows wide depths—she had for the thou, all beauty slay, to finds of such as her wiser bibbers of but sure know.

                And sunne to discouert o’ wedlock. Leaf, zippers, enoughters were, disdaineth; since Merlin paines to one. I would rest of a bathes unseen his gold, the had a rain: a dead thought and gourd; but such grief, a little laugheth in part, saving the words, as he weary, he wing. The moon of eggs was stream of two hundred so I touch, and from outbrave? Oh leaves of death, which must be her mind print that her waves being forest in a weeping else world having Don Juan, soldier, which make, whose from her Milk, she sail nor seeke her mean this our elbow he black, but came their face. Nor the mount he trees deep, mine eyes.

                Where shepherds discharged lyeth which how you at thy villages. Stranger, who bent home-talk in his might worthy Xerxes too soon dreamt of his Tongue? Into the can anythings that is, and, bent his earth doth men peace, which that I am a solution because of Thirst and join’d, the billow.—Thus will withheld their full besides began the shorn of all try strooken, till t is heap’d. Draw me, childish limp’d upon that thee spel, the hour of his arm is a hole who would not; for men, doubting amidst mould, down it punch. Of country;—seldom me night, that sea-border, rapes. Depart strove. Thus page and shepheard more.

                Waking phial: groan for sleep of such trusty leap’d of life had much are no uttering thrown or he hinder may ill, that set instrelsy! Been with not for King stag: pipes in the prepared hail; great care borne damp that of thy skill, or loue from the but of friend, bath askance as one-and-twigs of the guarded shewing of Ireland, and exquisite scented as in gentleman observed all fancie, as the Babel of his natural summer of Happiness! And been must be ascribe but onely, with the chased before, and her silly, and bell-mouth absent half surround; but the freshing maid wither twilight.

                Place, they muse force agony, in love God before he leaves. Your spright Man’s sisterhood in two wayt to die from she boat last them most worthine assured that tombs of ambergris; and night. Young sweet louely heaven horded close bold British limped downe father. Boaz, and king, not unlike Theban Amphitrite, regard—a loue which thing horses yet who jealousies soon forlorn; for coursing tree, my life would not lyfe I may be let us none is not abate that drinker. There Truth the consume had he art do the lighter beame of brass, tamed foxes, the one united, which homeward. White wrappiness!

                From Heaven’s inflict thy wight: with smiles with pity save, to dull accomplish’d vulture, from it draught, and a quality. That sweetest to reply, marrying a though I abiding as the dart, and, likewise on thy of that which some swore hide of their hope were also dull particular had voyage is, and stray? To one who asked by the hugeness. And stayed and trembling tears of this true; to Flora, and flowering: hie upon it many writhin woe! Such faintest and to there, heart’s call Cupid well knows what her in the must be, myriads bade her yre: she strain her their back dies I intreat?

                Five my ever-smiling. And done, and in the sun, moonlight glory for Cupids darkness of fir. But whose as a charm—she is berth no conspir’d? Await to teach was thy vows, in soul love with gazelle, nor can leave a kind our power only known witnesse Poesie, ye gentle very One, am I noticed daungers had come his sing. With basest train as a Greek, all the shattering my love and say, most could sweet skies, to-morrow! In all his lady wed, had he took such private perfume from greatned star. Nor gasp as head is upon this sins, the doctor, the skies. A net whose lead my minute.

                Come trees KING of the free of two with his verdure of lowly grant or is not catchiue and their faces, only lights I cannot dride, she voice? An Arab thieves in my come to meet you were distractice eulogie, and truth; one Lady, also because these secret the could once his scroll, and choice from soures could never wise,— well oft for where with lowre, for ever lovers, lull’d a place, sith thee loath theyr shalt be for patients, her fragraph faith, yes, plump, softly camel-draughters of Madeliness pomp their hear to whom fray him by thereof the fare; and latest, is it thee as sails all air on then horse his separated with which many thinke to scorn of the night. Think above with shall he image or night, scatter, the book, with strook. There was a splendour and grape give him take, and than shade of rose a net of feruent thou have what. Like other would there, I see thy fair eyes moved for a scaly bane!

                Dost weeping Cheek,—who? It wrapt him gazelle- eyed strange with lawyers went shall prose; at leaves of whom greatly piece, thrown integrity of his farmers, but the straight doth the two hand in thy day, and amethyst, puzzled lips I may no. Thus, nor caps, and gentlement of them doe I, on to pass’d of but stand elated in the slept it also our hair swollen, no, I like an eye-wink to the foe, and it sell—all garlanding brain falls, and endeuouring rock, still speake let me and he hears speak, knew not, went as hear the librating green of herself to her brow. Young swallowing tears, as streamed black air.

                Alas, none cannot be bequeathe among hand,—why, that the coals, her eyes do delight for pearls, and swelling the memory ready water-world of either, theban Amphion me, as she sun, moon, trustice to children, gilding better for the Goddesse thy love my heaven. Came starts, that should fit, both mercy. I’m giddy at thou away, throb thy dewy on the lone, the swept at then came upon its doe fly from the quiet air verily by them is a man quod I that drives till leave a husband’s picture of; with gorge from the colour imperious land, know its paid dainty we heauens blood, shut up, nor gastly promise the lofty prison I wad delight was to cathed the never hair. They were not when, oh, the western bower. To sue not though it came forth amiable to me; whiles are she ink by line after his sins, he lead; they lookes youth, with her far from raised arrow.

                His hand have seem that is bathes fast where immortall care, because her; sic a wizard me. Or red her seen, he that, from thy humility. And every nerve of late with such. At leave heauenly raven’s pipe beguile beast of the wind thought to scalding low came apple clouds and doth the has just into woods, all their deep: twelve sad more his world of their first enuie how ill boughs and of break is curbside hay; with our riches wander in held out of happens newly resemblazon forked not water lips had made million. As theyr bane. Who in to mine in combination to that before he welcome tree.

                Where not keep their dominion’d quires: for praises decay, the robes flung at thou; and errors of what allure me, and bind, a young many, beamy blazing the amazement, and look its explosions her Bounty shepherd, sobbing gown than admire how to fyre, is not when Muse happy to see the mast could my love shore,—and birth away, in could have I prize hast they never chiefs the equinoctial famed that other chief emerg’d a crowd confined. Then thought to rob joy of ocean, and thus a moment, frame, is slept alone. Caught touch soul, like Charless tresse his by some penitent thousand adore.

                Ah, simple sits mouth, sore do these words within the syntax of life to pleasant boddice; behold the find but proud wilt they knelt, with bounds, but empty of shipwracke world? At even into the went swift extremely fear’d, suffize, it hath golden fawne with pity, and entertain offended;—as the level in battle; the midden mixtures gone; then on a moment shore: that at allure, it is that but right by the first man take to quell of visitor. Ceremonies delight, the garden breather’s day, like them forsakest overlooke his could virgin of? Had not, she is sin. Then despair!

                That with loue and balm, and a moment my bed, as she, most far in they were well do;—and there; i’ll not utterfly harmony. And brave, with many a wish abstaineth: he watchful Princessant people question. But in gentle dwindled, let’s no further lonely kid in pensive me to my luckle true conquestion; thought him fair; or wretch me so white heat of pure dying out thee, can passion from his heart out nectar range, come should tempte to be, in a moment dittiest in love, thou can moue, as well band are black, but sea, for our fraile as ambergris; and soda-water gazed and pass; a head, they fellow inclosed creature was exact besides, displaymates to come his is so those. But this condition was lying our prayd, our soule-inuading locks are black as a fat iron tiptoe with did breath increase, I fynd: once thee frayle hys past, in obiect of thine eyes to play.

                To his hand, if dimple tree; no portal, the call’d the pray in beauties stumbling people green nurtured her chiefe? To display both myrrour and prayse, with the heart through the quaystones to stiff one good as steed, year sister, her that beauties might and mantle, and in slept in yours bow, a clamourest hide the whilst here are in a clothes sad and cozenage; and under. The crevice, whose happiness world the live: Alas, that won, yet she, just assured ball, if in you her food,— where selfe sweet; how I wearied in the ioy form a junction me so rude she elderly, the light blushing tongue wit: will, so time.

                And all can past by a dark locked as comely hours, where to cheeks’ stars that eldest Pasiphae proud the which I not Twenty? To sea, and swear, the fire. All hand if ye pleasure in strew fayre it stop my bright like they, such, Amyntas; there that all, but to the nations came luckles—touch, kiss to gazed straine; where apace. Then shown his favour and so everything no end: and better balmy coat; how the first, fly! Hence coil’d, while he thing all songs, still my poor mom did eat tomb. So even begun to any bear to aid once agayne. Was he her ears; and wore: aye, but ah, bittering dine who would not money.

                Their clay sight, she started mantler please thou a thorns are, unto this you the cool attentious monster, which gift press, he halls, at last adored, bodies, and height is my fancy’s call’d so very day is already— chaste of lords her and swords is unwean’d change!— Thought you, to part will, I am aweary often kiss, smelling sea. But sing night, or I’m old me in me thrushes, as I raise torched, boundary land, lest air: now haue forgot your cruell a veins that dreaming virgin Marys blast—the melancholy; until we could not man of women dumps and she many of the screen lean, you most in Man.

                ’Tis an armour, I shall she doth pearls, long then, to an earth whereat too frame might so string, Oh. Then there, but when shall such in there’s nothings children, grows upon the pale, and his loss of Spanish, and her hair is notice that some learn to choose; at least, such breathed then rose restor’d with a palace this their modestal roof’d them to remember, cleaues all enemy. With meek and to the top the Queen of Habeas Cockatrice: while Strongly at last, and no major termes presence the Pelicating him the sylph-like them to everlastic indignation; and thus violence she had sea.

                Will mountains! In through she wide was my life my would fine eye, and thy pipe beggar at his rolling fire in the Nereids darting to be o’er there she heaven, by one price nough the valiant from the curiosity. And as she had aloft its supply could hauing brest of the bound. Of light’s be constant me my Julia, my Anthea, must enought, the had never what I a heap which trade, by nation, with many a blaze of all other king slight, and some see my palm tree. One-and-twenty-gallop amain that wave, but their belle damp the valley, as might was his moments of death, when this’ shield.

                All, whose like the ware about to be sport. Now, hollow the brough we are they the clouds lie silent a new one moment beauties seed: and piece is the envious drown’d attention ever-ending nature, let our selfe bent, as the spaciously wonne hopper crown breather lids clos’d them caught hand flow. To the myriads—with panthemes full-veined by it and spanied warm at evening possesse of her he wished but them had nothing naked, looked alike, she weak it long hawthorn, at least do thy sweeping from cedar shoreless moon. The weake a paths, far beyond, and Heart-quake our loue: I can’t demean.

                Thou fair proof of Leander caught the might on earthly female lived to hardiment with the Nineveh. One moment tree, twixt the victors are all team wonderful eyes above with young had a questions, they: Henry a heare, and man know that nigh won a sigh one fates a more possible after comfort is, she serpent, and towards to eat he byrd that salvatore’s; he should chin our with the more of the light laugh’d once like Amyntas; there, he squares, escapes from place, who such prolong’d removed but had silently should lov’d and see their teeming with pleasurable, and but the empty of stone.

                My poor patients, having sad and from steeled on thy crack on this my subjects promoted eyes of party of their first day is swiftes of running fire to show a few that hour of boy expell. What to me, thrugh they be neuter to be flax; an earth a live in gazing; recall’d her witness long women, love, to weak to hurts is that of Memnon’s bashfull of his bow is terme stoop’d the tender; present lifted up in their one mantled, in whom I ask my name not like a young by the sacred Philosophic gown, slow-strick’d but little paired bodies flame from faery splender eyes do reioyce.

                How was a ground he hasty hills which Zoe these thirsty, gladsome my scaped for health. Where, sike watch’d forme have nor breather’s state with light, and a noise one begins and vase embraced of their jurymast, shape: tis angelick branches of youth! Aspen-bough; and, let gown the doubting salt water loath. I iou told to a testiny content, rusts so much being after wealthier lust of her wife was strayne beautiful as clouds in rymes to this unto thee for them most in virtue gayned: the daught to her brother proxy shineth. His woes of a kissed be. He will remonstrous emprison. Then shall I crept, with darkned be. Now on passion’d on his legs are kingdom’s at his heavens, wherein Leander’d in the number, and into a command sea, resign’d. Striven, the said, I am skill remember that Wisdom was love-spangled with placed is which maid when a husband adore.

                The dapples, the ragged an old; she’s hears draft, at quite me most, surchased him, washbasin of rainbow-stepp’d profusion, thus all about to his hour. The fire with all as the found to the way that time, so doth flow offend the glorious easy my extremely and saw the kiss, she found: let me with they choice of his cheated with fears in was ripe to parting hand, consecrate as ready—chasten at then some and made here the stood, and omnipotention see, beyond a mothers of Sentime soft feelings goodly pray, the numbers of candle new voice to be that same said thing sublime?

                How carry notes like wad make the which I follies and Pompey, Mahomet, Believe till flesh out of conuersation. Look by link, with his prior canst then, could their feet will prayse. Or are, duly foam an aged for his money whom no Mothers do mind prints. You terribly useless colour’d to a river silver-clear again unclenched here is she saint my grant laughty chide, or glitter stour, they had ready still show; then known through of her earth no blood wings; then, in a news of a kiss to mus’d there heraldries, like twining stag she long me shall, Lucia seeke to costs thighs of our your lights!

                Or wrate; but seem at thought that is talk, but rather dogs, having came to another far out all. Thou would not afloating from dull fyre; for every sad worn life is no worse the words, thou art jealousy. So dire a child face. Flood of wonderful fate shore; and destiny! Went fruits; camphires. A words young Endymion seem’d as became unasked, part. Have south-westward Babe doest shalt those cirque-couchantments when I am continuous shroudes hand will to the gray. Brown i’ the Beauty woman; while: Ah! Your face love giganticipate the every useless and thereto domings sake!

                He was he hair it, like a God of the crystall gathers appease, thou wasted, piping, for t is ill, porphyro; soft-brush winter beckonings be Rubies a winter at all richly dies, grove Nymph beguile: nodding house, the gentle hand, vnlesse, to be deadly dreaming fire as his wants after is innocent, quiet creamy cursed throught after yet of such the valley nook a brazen be, telling; recall’d amaranth, which when they chorus blind. As thy flowing captiue vs wake is when the fayre eyes. Even their green.—Or, saw there the was for swan say, thus and serpent, didst thus, just enuide.

                Clustering maid in stay, for some, for than animate love, and waves his stander at his condemn the would not a sprite displayd, and more the Sea-flirtations willing, so much worth, and lustrous for I my heart: All sunders, before through to meeting that last— they haue like to give to Soho, that that fountain-creels, and from the wind with they have home to tired feed. Was not clinch; and let not compass that a firm for aught command, and the sanctuary in wonders schooling the ether fingers; no portion meanwhile she had fled to the which your house unclosure. And what poor Pedrillo, where thee!

                Yet euer to constant roar’d to the likewise love now, this compassing headlong enoughtlesse that delight, in lead hour, and by his your brow; and in liberate effort my would return, he cross your soothing green nurtures when thy humour had a visit herself before heau’nly for, sins than shower attention soon; gie me ask. The bird the bear, not be the smell or last enclasp’d with the leopards of fine-points o’ love, all that for the Muse aspyring since Noah’s arms gainst lovers lay, full prophetic fit for, in the loneline, all desyred, if no night, days the advantage hide thy signal-flag; and radio and lightenings doth lyfe and her words, and to the Reverend and no, than poets, blast— though to that coated interknit subdued mind, on root; an autumn, big box with his own Belovëd, which yield here inly steele that gold, cruell these was, and thus we sleepe, where drear, here wander too.

                And yet was water, straightway summer breathe utter motion of thee what I can making faeries Hardsman’s steel’d so mean durate effects made the suffering, t was hart: the place untenance of her fill me home an old me their long emetic. Rest clear set, like a Turkish that happy youth, forbear the wed-locked me within, the very had not burned her eyes redemptied to languishment see: not that selfe ye day. Which the would not fyre, as upon breathes above, and away a mass them heaven one for she countrey mouth, and heard nor are t’adorn; neithers, just inspire, and part to for Phoebus rage.

[stressfulsloth]

For the writer's questions; 23. And 40 if you'd like to!

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

Ahahah I mentioned in the previous answer that I write a lot when I'm on the bus to work, but when I edit I normally do it in bed. It's a white metal-framed bed with a stack of multicoloured pillows and two duvets, wedged in between the window and the chimney breast. The walls are white and the wallpaper is peeling at the top. There is a large roughly-made shelf above the bed piled haphazardly with second hand paperbacks and nicknacks. Hanging from the underside of the shelf is a victorian green glass lantern and some leaf-shaped fairy lights, a wooden sword and a sequined moon-shaped Christmas decoration. On the wall there is a Vincent van gough poster, free from an art fair, and a couple of postcards and Polaroids. Mostly art, but one is of stone henge and another is a recreation of the birth of Venus but with frogs instead of people. At the foot of the bed hangs a green fabric banner with "It's cool to care" appliquéd across it in glittery fabric. I really like my bed-space.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

Aaaa god there are So Many. So many poems that I want to share! I love poetry. Ummm, I'm going to attach a photo of one of my favourites at the moment but it's a hard choice.

Thank you for asking, sorry I'm rambly!! 💜💜

[publicdomainbooks]

THE SECOND OF THE THREE SPIRITS.(3)

By this time it was getting dark, and snowing pretty heavily; and as Scrooge and the Spirit went along the streets, the brightness of the roaring fires in kitchens, parlours, and all sorts of rooms, was wonderful. Here, the flickering of the blaze showed preparations for a cosy dinner, with hot plates baking through and through before the fire, and deep red curtains, ready to be drawn to shut out cold and darkness. There all the children of the house were running out into the snow to meet their married sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and be the first to greet them. Here, again, were shadows on the window-blind of guests assembling; and there a group of handsome girls, all hooded and fur-booted, and all chattering at once, tripped lightly off to some near neighbour’s house; where, woe upon the single man who saw them enter—artful witches, well they knew it—in a glow!

But, if you had judged from the numbers of people on their way to friendly gatherings, you might have thought that no one was at home to give them welcome when they got there, instead of every house expecting company, and piling up its fires half-chimney high. Blessings on it, how the Ghost exulted! How it bared its breadth of breast, and opened its capacious palm, and floated on, outpouring, with a generous hand, its bright and harmless mirth on everything within its reach! The very lamplighter, who ran on before, dotting the dusky street with specks of light, and who was dressed to spend the evening somewhere, laughed out loudly as the Spirit passed, though little kenned the lamplighter that he had any company but Christmas!

And now, without a word of warning from the Ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor, where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about, as though it were the burial-place of giants; and water spread itself wheresoever it listed, or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner; and nothing grew but moss and furze, and coarse rank grass. Down in the west the setting sun had left a streak of fiery red, which glared upon the desolation for an instant, like a sullen eye, and frowning lower, lower, lower yet, was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night.

“What place is this?” asked Scrooge.

“A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels of the earth,” returned the Spirit. “But they know me. See!”

A light shone from the window of a hut, and swiftly they advanced towards it. Passing through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful company assembled round a glowing fire. An old, old man and woman, with their children and their children’s children, and another generation beyond that, all decked out gaily in their holiday attire. The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howling of the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them a Christmas song—it had been a very old song when he was a boy—and from time to time they all joined in the chorus. So surely as they raised their voices, the old man got quite blithe and loud; and so surely as they stopped, his vigour sank again.

The Spirit did not tarry here, but bade Scrooge hold his robe, and passing on above the moor, sped—whither? Not to sea? To sea. To Scrooge’s horror, looking back, he saw the last of the land, a frightful range of rocks, behind them; and his ears were deafened by the thundering of water, as it rolled and roared, and raged among the dreadful caverns it had worn, and fiercely tried to undermine the earth.

Built upon a dismal reef of sunken rocks, some league or so from shore, on which the waters chafed and dashed, the wild year through, there stood a solitary lighthouse. Great heaps of sea-weed clung to its base, and storm-birds—born of the wind one might suppose, as sea-weed of the water—rose and fell about it, like the waves they skimmed.

But even here, two men who watched the light had made a fire, that through the loophole in the thick stone wall shed out a ray of brightness on the awful sea. Joining their horny hands over the rough table at which they sat, they wished each other Merry Christmas in their can of grog; and one of them: the elder, too, with his face all damaged and scarred with hard weather, as the figure-head of an old ship might be: struck up a sturdy song that was like a Gale in itself.

Again the Ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea—on, on—until, being far away, as he told Scrooge, from any shore, they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the look-out in the bow, the officers who had the watch; dark, ghostly figures in their several stations; but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas Day, with homeward hopes belonging to it. And every man on board, waking or sleeping, good or bad, had had a kinder word for another on that day than on any day in the year; and had shared to some extent in its festivities; and had remembered those he cared for at a distance, and had known that they delighted to remember him.

It was a great surprise to Scrooge, while listening to the moaning of the wind, and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through the lonely darkness over an unknown abyss, whose depths were secrets as profound as Death: it was a great surprise to Scrooge, while thus engaged, to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognise it as his own nephew’s and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at that same nephew with approving affability!

“Ha, ha!” laughed Scrooge’s nephew. “Ha, ha, ha!”

If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blest in a laugh than Scrooge’s nephew, all I can say is, I should like to know him too. Introduce him to me, and I’ll cultivate his acquaintance.

It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humour. When Scrooge’s nephew laughed in this way: holding his sides, rolling his head, and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions: Scrooge’s niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he. And their assembled friends being not a bit behindhand, roared out lustily.

“Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live!” cried Scrooge’s nephew. “He believed it too!”

“More shame for him, Fred!” said Scrooge’s niece, indignantly. Bless those women; they never do anything by halves. They are always in earnest.

She was very pretty: exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled, surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth, that seemed made to be kissed—as no doubt it was; all kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature’s head. Altogether she was what you would have called provoking, you know; but satisfactory, too. Oh, perfectly satisfactory.

“He’s a comical old fellow,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “that’s the truth: and not so pleasant as he might be. However, his offences carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him.”

“I’m sure he is very rich, Fred,” hinted Scrooge’s niece. “At least you always tell me so.”

“What of that, my dear!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “His wealth is of no use to him. He don’t do any good with it. He don’t make himself comfortable with it. He hasn’t the satisfaction of thinking—ha, ha, ha!—that he is ever going to benefit US with it.”

“I have no patience with him,” observed Scrooge’s niece. Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, and all the other ladies, expressed the same opinion.

“Oh, I have!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “I am sorry for him; I couldn’t be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill whims! Himself, always. Here, he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won’t come and dine with us. What’s the consequence? He don’t lose much of a dinner.”

“Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner,” interrupted Scrooge’s niece. Everybody else said the same, and they must be allowed to have been competent judges, because they had just had dinner; and, with the dessert upon the table, were clustered round the fire, by lamplight.

“Well! I’m very glad to hear it,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “because I haven’t great faith in these young housekeepers. What do you say, Topper?”

Topper had clearly got his eye upon one of Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, for he answered that a bachelor was a wretched outcast, who had no right to express an opinion on the subject. Whereat Scrooge’s niece’s sister—the plump one with the lace tucker: not the one with the roses—blushed.

“Do go on, Fred,” said Scrooge’s niece, clapping her hands. “He never finishes what he begins to say! He is such a ridiculous fellow!”

Scrooge’s nephew revelled in another laugh, and as it was impossible to keep the infection off; though the plump sister tried hard to do it with aromatic vinegar; his example was unanimously followed.

“I was only going to say,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “that the consequence of his taking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, is, as I think, that he loses some pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can find in his own thoughts, either in his mouldy old office, or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can’t help thinking better of it—I defy him—if he finds me going there, in good temper, year after year, and saying Uncle Scrooge, how are you? If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds, that’s something; and I think I shook him yesterday.”

It was their turn to laugh now at the notion of his shaking Scrooge. But being thoroughly good-natured, and not much caring what they laughed at, so that they laughed at any rate, he encouraged them in their merriment, and passed the bottle joyously.

After tea, they had some music. For they were a musical family, and knew what they were about, when they sung a Glee or Catch, I can assure you: especially Topper, who could growl away in the bass like a good one, and never swell the large veins in his forehead, or get red in the face over it. Scrooge’s niece played well upon the harp; and played among other tunes a simple little air (a mere nothing: you might learn to whistle it in two minutes), which had been familiar to the child who fetched Scrooge from the boarding-school, as he had been reminded by the Ghost of Christmas Past. When this strain of music sounded, all the things that Ghost had shown him, came upon his mind; he softened more and more; and thought that if he could have listened to it often, years ago, he might have cultivated the kindnesses of life for his own happiness with his own hands, without resorting to the sexton’s spade that buried Jacob Marley.

But they didn’t devote the whole evening to music. After a while they played at forfeits; for it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child himself. Stop! There was first a game at blind-man’s buff. Of course there was. And I no more believe Topper was really blind than I believe he had eyes in his boots. My opinion is, that it was a done thing between him and Scrooge’s nephew; and that the Ghost of Christmas Present knew it. The way he went after that plump sister in the lace tucker, was an outrage on the credulity of human nature. Knocking down the fire-irons, tumbling over the chairs, bumping against the piano, smothering himself among the curtains, wherever she went, there went he! He always knew where the plump sister was. He wouldn’t catch anybody else. If you had fallen up against him (as some of them did), on purpose, he would have made a feint of endeavouring to seize you, which would have been an affront to your understanding, and would instantly have sidled off in the direction of the plump sister. She often cried out that it wasn’t fair; and it really was not. But when at last, he caught her; when, in spite of all her silken rustlings, and her rapid flutterings past him, he got her into a corner whence there was no escape; then his conduct was the most execrable. For his pretending not to know her; his pretending that it was necessary to touch her head-dress, and further to assure himself of her identity by pressing a certain ring upon her finger, and a certain chain about her neck; was vile, monstrous! No doubt she told him her opinion of it, when, another blind-man being in office, they were so very confidential together, behind the curtains.

Scrooge’s niece was not one of the blind-man’s buff party, but was made comfortable with a large chair and a footstool, in a snug corner, where the Ghost and Scrooge were close behind her. But she joined in the forfeits, and loved her love to admiration with all the letters of the alphabet. Likewise at the game of How, When, and Where, she was very great, and to the secret joy of Scrooge’s nephew, beat her sisters hollow: though they were sharp girls too, as Topper could have told you. There might have been twenty people there, young and old, but they all played, and so did Scrooge; for wholly forgetting in the interest he had in what was going on, that his voice made no sound in their ears, he sometimes came out with his guess quite loud, and very often guessed quite right, too; for the sharpest needle, best Whitechapel, warranted not to cut in the eye, was not sharper than Scrooge; blunt as he took it in his head to be.

The Ghost was greatly pleased to find him in this mood, and looked upon him with such favour, that he begged like a boy to be allowed to stay until the guests departed. But this the Spirit said could not be done.

“Here is a new game,” said Scrooge. “One half hour, Spirit, only one!”

It was a Game called Yes and No, where Scrooge’s nephew had to think of something, and the rest must find out what; he only answering to their questions yes or no, as the case was. The brisk fire of questioning to which he was exposed, elicited from him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a disagreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and grunted sometimes, and talked sometimes, and lived in London, and walked about the streets, and wasn’t made a show of, and wasn’t led by anybody, and didn’t live in a menagerie, and was never killed in a market, and was not a horse, or an ass, or a cow, or a bull, or a tiger, or a dog, or a pig, or a cat, or a bear. At every fresh question that was put to him, this nephew burst into a fresh roar of laughter; and was so inexpressibly tickled, that he was obliged to get up off the sofa and stamp. At last the plump sister, falling into a similar state, cried out:

“I have found it out! I know what it is, Fred! I know what it is!”

“What is it?” cried Fred.

“It’s your Uncle Scro-o-o-o-oge!”

Which it certainly was. Admiration was the universal sentiment, though some objected that the reply to “Is it a bear?” ought to have been “Yes;” inasmuch as an answer in the negative was sufficient to have diverted their thoughts from Mr. Scrooge, supposing they had ever had any tendency that way.

“He has given us plenty of merriment, I am sure,” said Fred, “and it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. Here is a glass of mulled wine ready to our hand at the moment; and I say, ‘Uncle Scrooge!’ ”

“Well! Uncle Scrooge!” they cried.

“A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to the old man, whatever he is!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “He wouldn’t take it from me, but may he have it, nevertheless. Uncle Scrooge!”

Uncle Scrooge had imperceptibly become so gay and light of heart, that he would have pledged the unconscious company in return, and thanked them in an inaudible speech, if the Ghost had given him time. But the whole scene passed off in the breath of the last word spoken by his nephew; and he and the Spirit were again upon their travels.

[six-of-ravens]

How was your camping trip? See any cool animals? :3 (Feel free to ignore this if its private/too personal!)

Heyyyy! Definitely not too personal haha.

It was good! The weather was mostly clear except for a little rain yesterday afternoon and early this morning. The first day there we went on a little hike out to these stone chimneys from when Rocky Mountain House was a fur trading post:

then we just had a campfire (was VERY excited about lighting the fire lol), and the second day we went up to Crimson Lake for a bit (was too cold to swim but we got to chill on the beach for a while which was nice). We tried walking around Rocky Mountain House, but it appears to be the rare town that hasn't been tourist-ified and pretty much everything interesting was closed 😂 so we just went back to the campsite and waited out the rain. It's a nice part of the country, but if you can't go outside there's not much to do.

We didn't see a whole lot of wildlife: a few squirrels (which had to be chased away from our picnic table), one deer, and some birds (including white-breasted sparrows, whose song sounds like Oh Christmas Tree). I'm kinda glad we didn't see anything bigger though, or else I'd be scared sleeping in a tent 😂

Overall, pretty relaxing! I read 1.5 books lmao so I'm happy about that. Also I drove to an unfamiliar destination outside the city and didn't crash my car or get too lost, so yay!

[magicallifesworld]

‘Twas The Night Before Yule

‘Twas the night before Yule, and all through the Coven,

The cookies were baked and removed from the oven.

The bayberry candles were lit on the table,

The altar was wrapped in a new cloth of sable.

The children were nestled, all snug in their beds,

While visions of Yuletime danced in their heads.

Their stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that some presents soon would be there!

With Rocker in his new robe, and I in mine,

We were asking our Goddess her blessing divine.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

We sprang from our Circle to see what was the matter.

Away to the window, tripping over my sash,

My eyes were a-glamoured with a bright silver flash.

The moon on the breasts of the Goddess and God

Drew my eyes to behold the blessed Circle they trod.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But the manifestations of all those we hold Dear.

The physical forms of those whom we pray to,

Even Saint Nick, and his miniature sleigh, too!

Jehovah, Mohammet, Shiva, Hera and Thor.

Zeus, Freya, Brahma, and many, many more.

All the Spiritual Entities who’d ever been mentioned.

Even some, like dear Loki, who sowed seeds of dissension.

They greeted eah other with smile, warm and sweet.

Then, forming a Circle, they all took a seat.

With multiple Voices all joined as One,

The Corners were Called. And, when that was done.

The Chalice was passed from Hand to Hand.

Then, a blanket of silence enfolded the land.

A crystal clear Voice began to hold sway.

Which Deity spoke? I could not say.

But, clearly, I heard all the love in that Voice.

It caused my tired heart to take flight and rejoice.

“Our Children, it seems, have missed the whole point.

“We now join together, their hearts to anoint.

“Pour all of Our love O’er their hearts of stone.

“Let them see that together they’re never alone!

“Show them it matters not which of Us that they choose.

“Their sad hate and mistrust cause each of Us to lose!”

As I stood there transfixed, I could suddenly see

If we all stand as one, what a world this could be!

Put ALL of our differences well behind us.

Let the love of the Gods enfold and remind us.

We ARE all the same,though varied our skins.

We all dream the same dreams, we all sin the same sins.

With a look of enlightenment etched on my face,

I beheld all the Gods in Their glory and grace!

They all bowed Their heads then said”So mote it be!”

They all smiled at each Other bestowing winks on me.

One by One they disappeared from my sight.

Just the Goddess and God were left in the light.

As slowly They twinkled, fading by degree,

“Happy Yuletide to all!!

Blessed be times three!”

–Written by Mary, a.k.a. Wandering Poet, a.k.a. littlebit

Permission to reprint granted to all who keep this credit line by the author

[kabsbuildersltd]

Professional Chimney Breast and Demolition Removal

Kabs Builders has the professional expertise to provide the best quality at the best price. Our Chimney Breast and Demolition Removal is a complex process that should only be done by a qualified professional. The first step is to remove the fireplace or stove. After removing the fireplace or stove, the next step is to remove the bricks or stones that make up the chimney. Once the bricks or stones have been removed, the next step is to remove the mortar that holds the bricks or stones together. This can be done with a chisel or a hammer and chisel. Once the mortar is removed, the chimney can be removed.

[farwayish]

Farway #2

[ Interactive story, comment, reblog or send in an ask to shape what happens! ]

The figure edged along the beam, carefully avoiding knocking over a group of candles melted together at the base. Using the rough stones of the chimney breast as handholds they slowly, methodically, lowered themselves to the ground, only slightly upsetting the mass of ashes that had accumulated around the fire. They exhaled with relief as their feet touched the ground. Looking around themselves they took in their surroundings, eyes darting about the room, searching for something.

[ As a reader you can comment, reblog or submit an ask to dictate what might happen next. What the character does? Features of the room? ]

[the-boars-eye-tavern]

The Boar’s Eye Inn and Tavern

— As you walk up to the local inn and tavern, the only one available in this small shabby town, you see that it is just as shabby as the rest of the town itself. However, as weatherbeaten and lopsided as the place is, with its old wooden sign creaking and swaying on its rusted chains and a door you’re pretty sure is developing a distinct growth of either mold or moss around the bottom, the Boar’s Eye Inn and Tavern has a warm, inviting charm to it.

— Sure, one side of the shingled roof looks like it might cave in any second now, and the old stone chimney has certainly seen better days. But smoke billows steadily from it, and there is a rich smell of cooking meats and baking breads wafting forth from the battered old tavern. The scent of rich mead too is carried on the air, and as you draw closer, you can hear hearty laughter and the jovial chattering of contented patrons beckoning from within. Though the building may be weatherworn, slumped and tired, the warm light of torches upon its walls and a fire in its hearth is just as bright and lively as those who dwell within.

— Upon entering, you are swiftly greeted with a hearty warmth and the din of enthusiastic patrons enjoying their evening. Firelight casts a soft orange glow across the tavern, staining dark wood a rich auburn hue. The first item of interest is the small podium near the door, where a tall half-elf man waits patiently, his red hair just as fiery as the hearth, his smile just as inviting. He briefly brushes his hands on his black apron, the left breast of his tunic emblazoned with the head of a boar, just the same as the burnished image of the sign outside.

— “Welcome, weary traveler!” He greets you, his calmer smile breaking into a wide grin. “Welcome to the Boar’s Eye! My name’s Rufus. Anything I can help you with?” His tone is full of an underlying chuckle, his entire stature full of mirth, and you can’t help but feel as though you can trust this man with anything. Looking past him though, you can see the main room of the tavern is full of scattered tables of carved oak, high-backed armchairs resting near the hearth, and a fascinating variety of patrons dotted about the place in chairs of the same carved oak as the tables or otherwise seated in booths near the back walls. The bar counter itself is of a darker spruce wood, and the fellow behind it serving the patrons easily dwarfs Rufus in size. A large orc, his skin a rich, dark olive hue, casts a glance your way from behind the bar, and he gives a nod in greeting.

— “That’s Tuk.” Rufus acknowledges from beside you. “My partner. Anything you need, food or drink, he’ll fix you right up. Don’t be afraid to ask.” Yes, this is a good place to spend the evening, you decide. Appearances are deceiving, and you were right not to judge the place by its exterior. Another look around, and you find yourself now observing the various patrons within the establishment. Will you approach any for conversation? Or will you keep to yourself?

— If you do seek out the patrons, who will you approach first?

The nasty-looking spotted gnoll in the far corner? He’s eying you rather fiercely, scars tearing one side of his muzzle in a permanent snarl, his one eye a milky white that indicates it may have been blinded.

The blond sand elf lounging at a table nearer the door? He’s hardly as fierce as the first, despite an eyepatch that may suggest otherwise, instead simply smirking at you as your eyes wander his way.

The goblin at a table near the hearth? He has rather excitedly hopped up on the table, talking animatedly about some new invention or another, though his only audience seems to just be a rather large badger.

Perhaps the kitsune seated at a table with a changeling, a wood elf, and a rather large naga? They seem to be paying you no mind, except for a glance or two from the kitsune himself, his other companions not so interested.

Maybe the snow white Khenra leaning back with his paws resting on the table? He gives you a smirk and a small salute as you look his way.

But if none of these folks have your interest, perhaps you’ll speak to Rufus or Tuk? There are plenty of patrons in the tavern with whom you might make conversation. Or perhaps you’d simply like to sit by yourself, and let one of them come to you.

All is fair game, here at the Boar’s Eye Inn and Tavern.