#Divine Beast Elm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesquireofcheddar · 4 years ago

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To exalt, enthrone, establish and defend, To welcome home mankind's mysterious friend Wine, true begetter of all arts that be; Wine, privilege of the completely free; Wine the recorder; wine the sagely strong; Wine, bright avenger of sly-dealing wrong, Awake, Ausonian Muse, and sing the vineyard song!

Sing how the Charioteer from Asia came, And on his front the little dancing flame Which marked the God-head. Sing the Panther-team, The gilded Thrysus twirling, and the gleam Of cymbals through the darkness. Sing the drums. He comes; the young renewer of Hellas comes! The Seas await him. Those Aegean Seas Roll from the dawning, ponderous, ill at ease, In lifts of lead, whose cresting hardly breaks To ghostly foam, when suddenly there awakes A mountain glory inland. All the skies Are luminous; and amid the sea bird cries The mariner hears a morning breeze arise. Then goes the Pageant forward. The sea-way Silvers the feet of that august array Trailing above the waters, through the airs; And as they pass a wind before them bears The quickening word, the influence magical. The Islands have received it, marble-tall; The long shores of the mainland. Something fills The warm Euboean combes, the sacred hills Of Aulis and of Argos. Still they move Touching the City walls, the Temple grove, Till, far upon the horizon-glint, a gleam Of light, of trembling light, revealed they seem Turned to a cloud, but to a cloud that shines, And everywhere as they pass, the Vines! The Vines! The Vines, the conquering Vines! And the Vine breaths Her savour through the upland, empty heaths Of treeless wastes; the Vines have come to where The dark Pelasgian steep defends the lair Of the wolf's hiding; to the empty fields By Aufidus, the dry campaign that yields No harvest for the husbandman, but now Shall bear a nobler foison than the plough; To where, festooned along the tall elm trees, Tendrils are mirrored in Tyrrhenian seas; To where the South awaits them; even to where Stark, African informed of burning air, Upturned to Heaven the broad Hipponian plain Extends luxurious and invites the main. Guelma's a mother: barren Thaspsa breeds; And northward in the valleys, next the meads That sleep by misty river banks, the Vines Have struck to spread below the solemn pines. The Vines are on the roof-trees. All the Shrines And Homes of men are consecrate with Vines.

And now the task of that triumphant day Has reached to victory. In the reddening ray With all his train, from hard Iberian lands Fulfilled, apparent, that Creator stands Halted on Atlas. Far Beneath him, far, The strength of Ocean darkening and the star Beyond all shores. There is a silence made. It glorifies: and the gigantic shade Of Hercules adores him from the West. Dead Lucre: burnt Ambition: Wine is best.

But what are these that from the outer murk Of dense mephitic vapours creeping lurk To breathe foul airs from that corrupted well Which oozes slime along the floor of Hell? These are the stricken palsied brood of sin In whose vile veins, poor, poisonous and thin, Decoctions of embittered hatreds crawl: These are the Water-Drinkers, cursed all! On what gin-sodden Hags, what flaccid sires Bred these White Slugs from what exhaust desires? In what close prison's horror were their wiles Watched by what tyrant power with evil smiles; Or in what caverns, blocked from grace and air Received they, then, the mandates of despair? What! Must our race, our tragic race, that roam All exiled from our first, and final, home: That in one moment of temptation lost Our heritage, and now wander, hunger-tost Beyond the Gates (still speaking with our eyes For ever of remembered Paradise), Must we with every gift accepted, still, With every joy, receive attendant ill? Must some lewd evil follow all our good And muttering dog our brief beatitude?

A primal doom, inexorable, wise, Permitted, ordered, even these to rise. Even in the shadow of so bright a Lord Must swarm and propagate the filthy horde Debased, accursed I say, abhorrent and abhorred. Accursed and curse-bestowing. For whosoe'er Shall suffer their contagion, everywhere Falls from the estate of man and finds his end To the mere beverage of the beast condemned. For such as these in vain the Rhine has rolled Imperial centuries by hills of gold; For such as these the flashing Rhone shall rage In vain its lightning through the Hermitage Or level-browed divine Touraine receive The tribute of her vintages at eve. For such as these Burgundian heats in vain Swell the rich slope or load the empurpled plain. Bootless for such as these the mighty task Of bottling God the Father in a flask And leading all Creation down distilled To one small ardent sphere immensely filled. With memories empty, with experience null, With vapid eye-balls meaningless and dull They pass unblest through the unfruitful light; And when we open the bronze doors of Night, When we in high carousal, we reclined, Spur up to Heaven the still ascending mind, Pass with the all inspiring, to and fro, The torch of genius and the Muse's glow, They, lifeless, stare at vacancy alone Or plan mean traffic, or repeat their moan. We, when repose demands us, welcomed are In young white arms, like our great Exemplar Who, wearied with creation, takes his rest And sinks to sleep on Ariadne's breast. They through the darkness into darkness press Despised, abandoned and companionless. And when the course of either's sleep has run We leap to life like heralds of the sun; We from the couch in roseate mornings gay Salute as equals the exultant day While they, the unworthy, unrewarded, they The dank despisers of the Vine, arise To watch grey dawns and mourn indifferent skies.

Forget them! Form the Dionysian ring And pulse the ground, and Io, Io, sing.

Father Lenaean, to whom our strength belongs, Our loves, our wars, our laughter and our songs, Remember our inheritance, who praise Your glory in these last unhappy days When beauty sickens and a muddied robe Of baseness fouls the universal globe. Though all the Gods indignant and their train Abandon ruined man, do thou remain! By thee the vesture of our life was made, The Embattled Gate, the lordly Colonnade, The woven fabric's gracious hues, the sound Of trumpets, and the quivering fountain-round, And, indestructible, the Arch, and, high, The Shaft of Stone that stands against the sky, And, last, the guardian-genius of them, Rhyme, Come from beyond the world to conquer time: All these are thine, Lenaean.

By thee do seers the inward light discern; By thee the statue lives, the Gods return; By thee the thunder and the falling foam Of loud Acquoria's torrent call to Rome; Alba rejoices in a thousand springs, Gensano laughs, and Orvieto sings... But, Ah! With Orvieto, with that name Of dark, Eturian, subterranean flame The years dissolve. I am standing in that hour Of majesty Septembral, and the power Which swells the clusters when the nights are still With autumn stars on Orvieto hill.

Had these been mine, Ausonian Muse, to know The large contented oxen heaving slow; To count my sheaves at harvest; so to spend Perfected days in peace until the end; With every evening's dust of gold to hear The bells upon the pasture height, the clear Full horn of herdsmen gathering in the kine To ancient byres in hamlets Appenine, And crown abundant age with generous ease: Had these, Ausonian Muse, had these, had these.....

But since I would not, since I could not stay, Let me remember even in this my day How, when the ephemeral vision's lure is past All, all, must face their Passion at the last

Was there not one that did to Heaven complain How, driving through the midnight and the rain, He struck, the Atlantic seethe and surge before, Wrecked in the North along a lonely shore To make the lights of home and hear his name no more. Was there not one that from a desperate field Rode with no guerdon but a rifted shield; A name disherited; a broken sword; Wounds unrenowned; battle beneath no Lord; Strong blows, but on the void, and toil without reward.

When from the waste of such long labour done I too must leave the grape-ennobling sun And like the vineyard worker take my way Down the long shadows of declining day, Bend on the sombre plain my clouded sight And leave the mountain to the advancing night, Come to the term of all that was mine own With nothingness before me, and alone; Then to what hope of answer shall I turn? Comrade-Commander whom I dared not earn, What said You then to trembling friends and few? "A moment, and I drink it with you new: But in my Father's Kingdom." So, my Friend, Let not Your cup desert me in the end. But when the hour of mine adventure's near Just and benignant, let my youth appear Bearing a Chalice, open, golden, wide, With benediction graven on its side. So touch my dying lip: so bridge that deep: So pledge my waking from the gift of sleep, And, sacramental, raise me the Divine: Strong brother in God and last companion, Wine. Hilaire Belloc

#lit

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libidomechanica · 4 years ago

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And gibber all

And gibber all so evening of me with length upborne stops, and floats of the resigns a

brief the book sonorous steals in dead: then she long so clear rime, of score of their May was Arac, and two brother

much murderous, which is filled: he world of promised askance growing! Lava rivals will before, while to please

men much one day- star has had bends, she care, he swallow, thou art, finding did not tell, will prefer the

lofty rhyme at, All on each side her male lounged, like type of your noble from thee, like Hindoos, for gentlement

back, so rapt, we steeds mumble and within the wood again? I thing the old age; dishonour! The

mock-heroic gigantesque, the lay sick on the yearning earth at a wise wither choirs amends felt the woman is

nothings silence for sullen choice virgins troubled mirth, for the lamp will not my wife were near; nor double.

And confusion dream not vain tonight or fall And pine! But fed on my craft or a yeare his. (but Im within

the would go my hart, are call give us folds fast, must need her tired. Of saucy boys, half this Signal

out a game that I wish the pony too: why think o your scatters: and shout a slight, the face: and what

all rowmes in mock-heroics streams are aim, raking trim, and now the rising rever headlong married, of all

we mistake thou done vast, but the centreat with hold that seems, that will his horse and in cunning and a

rhymes to my sheep- hook, what now the boys are forest cash, came) Custom, spoke, and horse that thought dame, to

keeps he hall bond—the starting best to- morrow will get a sudden deep look at them away her wild,

I divine by, when pity—pity wish to the fallen doing! So rich is not, As far away.

a breath thine? but none my hurt him weary night, when, in the praise and I am, was the

elms, and but aggravate widow drowns, where he last wet stop lone our citizens out of that you,

when a perfect that blaze, who always fine arts lightly where I had labour, yet what we must be

old Susan short how, is at our music and head, said, “but whether small beasted fail? Hush, hush and prey.”

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #149 texts

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onceklaudiaspiechowicz · 5 years ago

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Greek Underworld / Tartarus

“In mythology, the Greek underworld is an otherworld where souls go after death. The original Greek idea of afterlife is that, at the moment of death, the soul is separated from the corpse, taking on the shape of the former person, and is transported to the entrance of the underworld. Good people and bad people would then separate. The underworld itself—sometimes known as Hades, after its patron god—is described as being either at the outer bounds of the ocean or beneath the depths or ends of the earth. It is considered the dark counterpart to the brightness of Mount Olympus with the kingdom of the dead corresponding to the kingdom of the gods. Hades is a realm invisible to the living, made solely for the dead.”

“In front of the entrance to the underworld live Grief (Penthos), Anxiety (Curae), Diseases (Nosoi), Old Age (Geras), Fear (Phobos), Hunger (Limos), Need (Aporia), Death (Thanatos), Agony (Algea), and Sleep (Hypnos), together with Guilty Joys (Gaudia). On the opposite threshold is War (Polemos), the Erinyes, and Discord (Eris). Close to the doors are many beasts, including Centaurs, Scylla, Briareus, Gorgons, the Hydra, Geryon, the Chimera, and Harpies. In the midst of all this, an Elm can be seen where false Dreams (Oneiroi) cling under every leaf.”

“There are six main rivers that are visible both in the living world and the underworld. Their names were meant to reflect the emotions associated with death.” “The souls that enter the underworld carry a coin under their tongue to pay Charon to take them across the river. Charon may make exceptions or allowances for those visitors carrying a Golden Bough. Charon is said to be appallingly filthy, with eyes like jets of fire, a bush of unkempt beard upon his chin, and a dirty cloak hanging from his shoulders. Although Charon ferries across most souls, he turns away a few. These are the unburied which can't be taken across from bank to bank until they receive a proper burial.”

Tartarus

“In Greek mythology, Tartarus is the deep abyss that is used as a dungeon of torment and suffering for the wicked and as the prison for the Titans. Tartarus is the place where, according to Plato's Gorgias (c. 400 BC), souls are judged after death and where the wicked received divine punishment. Tartarus is also considered to be a primordial force or deity alongside entities such as the Earth, Nightand Time.”

“While according to Greek mythology the realm of Hades is the place of the dead, Tartarus also has a number of inhabitants. When Cronus came to power as the King of the Titans, he imprisoned the one-eyed Cyclopes and the hundred-armed Hecatonchires in Tartarus and set the monster Campe as its guard. Zeus killed Campe and released these imprisoned giants to aid in his conflict with the Titans. The gods of Olympus eventually triumphed. Cronus and many of the other Titans were banished to Tartarus, though Prometheus, Epimetheus, and female Titans such as Metis were spared (according to Pindar, Cronus somehow later earned Zeus' forgiveness and was released from Tartarus to become ruler of Elysium). Another Titan, Atlas, was sentenced to hold the sky on his shoulders to prevent it from resuming its primordial embrace with the Earth. Other gods could be sentenced to Tartarus as well. Apollo is a prime example, although Zeus freed him. The Hecatonchires became guards of Tartarus' prisoners. Later, when Zeus overcame the monster Typhon, he threw him into "wide Tartarus".”

I feel the Greek underworld is the most well known one as well the one with the most lore, people have researched and expanded on it for years and now you don’t even need to study or research Greek mythology to know about Hades, Cerberus or what Tartarus is because it’s became common knowledge at this point. I like how this world is known so widely it has specific geography based on where you are from the River Styx to the gates of the underworld, Tartarus as well as Isles of the Blessed and so on. It feels like it’s own world and it’s so amazing that this is ‘just’ the underworld and Greek mythology is so expensive further than just this with Olympus as well as all the stories from the mortal realm. It was definitely worth looking into.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greek_underworld

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tartarus

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impossible-rat-babies · 7 years ago

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30 Day Watcher Challenge

15. DECISIONS, PT. 3 – ACT III & IV: what does your watcher think of twin elms? which of the gods do they turn to at teir evron, and how do they feel about receiving divine support? how do they feel about the final confrontation with thaos? what do they ultimately decide to do with thaos, iovara, and the souls at sun in shadow?

Aoife thought Twin Elms was very pretty from what he saw and processed of the area. He spent a long time looking at things, but not understanding or being willing to understand what he was looking at. In one ear and out the other, so to speak. He had a very hard time distinguishing what was real and what wasn't for a lot of the time in Twin Elms. Looking back, he hardly remembers the place and what he did there, save for events like dealing with Vela and Teir Evron which he remembers in vivid detail. He could tell you what it smelled like there, if asked.

He originally was going to turn to Hylea for help into Sun-In-Shadow and even went as far as to take care of the beast in her temple. But, after hearing what Pallegina had to say to Hylea, he questioned a lot of his reasoning. Her questions about being created the way she was and abandoned to the world really got Aoife in the gut. He had many of the same qualms and questions and anger for Berath, but he never really...talked about it? He never felt like he could talk about it with others since they wouldn't understand.

So in the end he went with Berath for help getting into Sun-In-Shadow, if only for the possibility of using the favor as a bargaining chip to get answers from them. He didn’t get the answers--which he was angry about--but he did get where he needed to go.

In regards to getting divine help, he still thought of the Gods as...well, Gods really. All powerful beings blessed to do good for Kith. That whole she-bang. So, it was understandable to look for help from them. He wasn't exactly sure it was going to work, but he did have the thought of “maybe berath wouldn't want me dead because I’m their child.” The promise he made to them to return the souls to the Wheel made sense to him since it was the flow of things; some wouldn't have bodies to return to and they would be lost. The way of things with the Wheel needed to continue. At this point, he wasn’t readily questioning the nature of the Gods nor the Wheel; that doesn’t hit him until after Iovara and later in Deadfire.

He had a lot of mixed feelings about Thaos in the end and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to unpackaged them, in a sense. He understands what Thaos was trying to do because the fact of the gods not being real is a big deal. Society bases everything around the gods and to find that false would be a big issue and one that maybe Kith aren’t ready to confront. But, Aoife also believes they deserve to know the truth because he believes in freedom for people. But that also includes choice and the choice to continue to believe in the gods even if they are real or not real. He struggles a lot with the questions Iovara asks of him and what she explains to him; it’s a conversation and line of questioning he doesn’t really understand or grasp until Deadfire and the events in that game.

He ended up leaving Iovara in Sun-In-Shadow, as was her request. It was the least he could do for the woman he once loved. He destroyed Thaos’ soul for two reasons: (1) a man like him, even with his memory wiped, could still later become Awakened again, and (2) Aoife felt like his time was up. He was done in this world and his mission was crumbled. He had been alive for too long and seen too much. He needed an end; as much as Aoife hates Rymagard, Thaos needed total and utter oblivion; not for a malicious reason, but one of compassion.

Find this meme HERE!

#30daywatcherchallenge #30 days of aoife #pillars of eternity #poe #poe watcher #oc tag #oc: aoife #i have buckets to say about iovara but they get their own day

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skywailer · 8 years ago

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Hi guys! So, I’ve made it to 3.6k followers! Even with the ghosting and everything, so thank you so much for sticking around. As a thank you, I’ve compiled a follow appreciation post to really show how grateful I am to have you guys around. There’s a few things I’d love to do for you!

How much do I appreciate you? Well, here’s how much! I will do...

⚡️ an HP aesthetic rating & blog love

and/or one of the following

🌙 a personal mood board tailored just for you and your interests

⭐ a url graphic

📜 ficlet for your choice of pairing

📷 icon bundle for your choice of characters/colors

How will you receive this love?

mbf this colorful Trash Can

must reblog this post (likes are bookmarks)

send me a letter with the icons of what you’d like!

See below the cut for the formats and/or requirements! If you don’t want to see the ratings, block #followapp. Thanks again! 😍 😍

⚡️ an HP aesthetic rating:

era: fantastic beasts | marauders | harry potter | next generation

house: gryffindor | hufflepuff | ravenclaw | slytherin

elective: arithmancy | care of magical creatures | divination | muggle studies | study of ancient runes

patronus:

headcanon for you, an OC:

blog compliments:

🌙 a personal mood board tailored just for you and your interests:

send me a general list along with the icon of what you like most in the word; favorite quotes, colors, foods, songs, shapes, style. What’s your aesthetic?

⭐ a url graphic

please make sure it’s HP/SPN/THG related!

I will tag you on the edit when it’s done, and send you a link!

📜 ficlet for your choice of pairing

send me the coupling (both names, no couple abbreviations) + what setting you’d prefer and if you want anything specific to happen or be said like so:

ex: harry + ginny / zombie apocalypse AU + “yolo” (I s2g if someone sends me this)

I will tag you on the ficlet when it’s done, and send you a link!

📷 icon bundle for your choice of characters/colors

send me who/what you want as your icon(s), how many you want (max 6) and if you prefer color/vintage-faded/bw

ex: emma watson + hermione granger, 6, half color half bw

I will tag you on the bundle when it’s done, and send you a link!

Maximum one request + blograte! Enjoy, and thank you again for following!!!

#followapp #hp #celebration #follow celebration #blogrates #have at it!

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almoststardust · 8 years ago

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lived asked: i wonder if you've written anything on demeter? i love reading your thoughts on mythological figures!

elucipher:

when her daughter returns to the world, it is dead.

in her fury demeter laid waste to it, and now the land is cold and barren as bone-dust and the trees are stooped by brawling winds and the wheat lies lank and festered. she will not speak to the gods who plead with her (traitors, deceivers).

but then her daughter comes out of the earth: kore, gowned in black silk with dark hair veiled. no fear in her look. hades stands beside her—of him demeter sees only a bleak hoarding shadow, a severe and thrilling face.

before the girl steps down from his chariot, she turns back and her red mouth presses to his mouth, his hand rawboned at her waist. then she sets foot in that starved field where demeter waits, and hades watches her with eyes like the pitiless space between stars—until he is out of sight, descending again to his kingdom.

kore lifts the crown from her head and places it beside the scar in the earth. demeter hesitates to touch her: there is dominion in her shoulders and spine, the smell of salt and ash and mouldered roses on her bare arms and throat.

kore, demeter says.

the girl shakes her head. persephone. that is my name now.

persephone. cool and keen and heavy; a scythe-sound, a name with death in the hush of it.

persephone is strange and hungry. she likes the sulk and roar of storms and the loamy gloomrot of woodland and cankers in fruit and forked birdbones and poison flowers.

before demeter’s eyes, she plucks out ghosts lingering in carcasses and ushers them into the soil. the ghosts fear her. it is a terrible thing her hands do, and her gentleness is also terrible. in these first days she winces at the sun like a fugitive and beasts shrink from her when she laughs.

but she is not lost, only changed. as they walk over the fields in demeter’s keeping, the shadows lift and the air becomes warm and sun-dazed. there is life, sudden, in the earth: the wheat grows tall; the trees bow with a glut of sweet-swollen fruit. they eat plums and honeycomb and lie in the shade of an elm, and demeter strokes that beautiful head of dark hair while persephone weaves black lilies into a crown and talks of burning rivers and asphodel fields.

do you love him?

persephone smiles. in a way, she says. she keeps her secrets.

the summer ages, the light turns to dark and drowsy gold; and hades stands before her again, waiting.

demeter kisses her half-world daughter. it is, perhaps, a blessing—and for a moment persephone’s old eyes look soft with love. when they part, persephone puts on her crown and takes her husband’s hand, and she is beautiful, but not of the living. hades bows his head to demeter. then the chariot rushes away and they are gone. the way is closed.

demeter shrouds herself and her kingdom. she takes lovers and parleys with gods and allows rare things to grow. these are the days that ache, but she finds grace in them. she watches death gather its harvest, and does not begrudge its hunger.

in the winter she dreams, and is cruel. she goes barefoot over snow and ice, and she thinks of persephone—a queen among the pale dead, who have no teeth and cannot speak, but tremble at her passing.

then there is young light, and a pulse like blood in the soil and the air. she knows that soon her daughter will come from that lightless province, deathly and smiling.

they will touch cold hands, and stand in the waking sun, and begin again.

#lived #mythology #demeter #persephone #most important relationship #most vital relationship in the ancient greek mythical-historical record probably #history and literature preserve only hearsay and glimpses of the eleusinian mysteries that revered demeter and persephone #(but further and further back their myths remain indivisible; two shifting aspects of a complex divinity) #also an excuse to write persephone as the weird eerie terrible goddess bridging life and death that i've always imagined #scribbled v. fast i'm gonna edit for spelling &c. later #** #things i wrote

#elucipher #prose #persephone

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heroesoftherepublic-blog · 8 years ago

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Mother and Mare

It was disturbing how much this region of the peninsula was emptiness. The soil itself rejecting the notion of becoming scenery for mismanaged farms and ghost villages. The genius loci was a temperamental creature, unable to tolerate the human presence for more than a few months at a time.

He was in nomad territory.

Tabula Rasa was aware of the threat these people presented. Time and time again Rome and Samnites faced off against each other, the success of one’s lifestyle predicated upon the misery of the others. Plebeians and patricians were all too eager to accept the convenient lie that three generations of peace had changed the attitude of saddle and cattle folk towards their sedentary farmer “friends”. The neighboring allies that spend nights listening to galloping screamers could not forget the one absolute truth about the Samnites. Those that herd, war.

The Latin war machine would not protect Sextus anymore. If the Samnites caught him, there would be no opportunity for his message to be heard. His body would be quartered and violated, killed in exchange for two hundred and ninety-nine pieces of silver.

The Underworld was omnipresent, touching the mortal world in even the most remote sites. Feeling its call, he found a tomb hidden behind elms, a tiny brick house, made from precious squares carved from volcanic rock. Perfect place to spend the night.

Silence was not part of the nocturnal imperative, something inducing great distress to the animal life. Sextus barely caught any sleep, wondering if it would not have been better to descent to the Underworld and rest in that peculiar insecurity. He woke up next morning with an aching head and baggy eyes, stumbling without a clear aim, clumsily looking for the source of all the upheaval.

A trail of horse hooves. Many different sizes, left by beasts other than his own. Much more distressing were the lighter ones, left by an animal without the typical equestrian sandals. Caressing the grass around those, he found himself catching something shining and crimson. Pomegranate arilli.

Whistling for his mount, they trotted away from that night.

Another day of travel ensued, with no soul crossing his path either he ventured off or on trail. At least signs of camping did not fail to present themselves, stones scorched by flames, trampled grass and burnt animal bonus.

Setting camp of his own, Tabula Rasa gave himself permission to believe that there was nothing outside of the realm of normalcy going on. The fires in the horizon? Just camps, just like this one.

Nothing more.

Sextus was not certain about what had roused him from his sleep, if it was the heatwave or the rain-less thunderclap. Taking vigil, he examined his surroundings. In a hill not that far away, a mare appeared so suddenly that it almost seemed to sprout from the ground. This was no mortal beast, for its head was impressively missing and stuck in its neck was an igneous iron rod.

So, this was going to be the day he died.

It was hard for Sextus to believe it to be so, when the morning had started so serene. Finding no trails, he risked braving alluring woods with the intent of restocking supplies. A pair of rabbits, a par of mushrooms and a filled water-skin later, he noticed the falcons.

Trained birds.

This was a trap.

Tabula Rasa thought for a moment about turning back or staying where he was, but eyes in the sky would keep the Samnite up to date to the developments and the more time he gave them, the better prepared they would be. His death was absent from most pertinent worries, for that he had oblated long ago and was no longer something he owned. He found an empty trunk in which to hide the money and carved with his knife a bull and a crow, hoping that Lidia would find someone wiser to continue his mission. Crossing beyond the tree line, his thoughts wandered towards how much violence would he allow himself to offer as a final act of defiance.

In his hands, the spear was still bound.

A massacre awaited him.

Atop a wooden platform, an altar stood, headed by the great mother goddess Kerres and seven of their animal-touched children, incarnated in beautiful wooden effigies. Horses with saddles of wool and leather stood nearby, the Bruttii style of the harness betraying the affiliation of the nomadic herders. Vengeance, banditry or sacrifice, whatever drove their plans towards him would be a mystery for the ages.

None of the riders was left in a state that allowed answers.

An enormous figure clad in black armor stood over the corpses, its members entwined with lighting and fury. It stood and turned slowly, right hand describing a circle over the deformed helmet, hiding itself behind an impious bloody mockery of the crimson face of a triumphant general. The blood drops that dripped from his hands and from the bodies seemed to dance and jump in an aberrant manner, seemingly forming words, the dim strokes of Rex, Rex, Rex. Repeated over and over, until the word lost all meaning, being just something that dragged the surroundings towards its Triumph.

Rex.

Sextus clenched his hands around the spear’s haft, dismounting and keeping a safe distance, slowly describing a circle. The very air seemed to shine with attractive distortion, making him doubt his quest. Why would he reject his military training, earning to be more than a simple soldier? If Lidia had not place for him as he was, others would. There is always merit in service, serving someone for servitude sake was its own reward.

The figure extended its hand, palm turned down. Sextus felt his knees weaken. This overwhelming presence and alien nature dispelled one of his erroneous assumptions. Just because one was touched by the Celestial, that did not meant they were virtuous beings nor that they tapped into commendable platonic forms. Planting his spear in the ground and drying the sweat falling down his brow, Tabula Rasa surrendered to the inevitable. There was no other way, he had to call down Infernal powers.

He could hear his own blood coursing through his veins, the chemical orgy of new cells as they divided eager to replace dying tissue, the entire chaotic chorus of being alive and the invisible but powerful divine spark that permeated all of his being. Something joined in, something primal and telluric, strange in how familiar it was, awakening something inside.

A neigh interrupted Sextus and his moment of discovery. The mare from last night entered the scene, carrying the bag of money in its mouth. Dropping the precious load at the feet of Tabula Rasa, stared him down in a way that left no space of ambiguity. As Sextus retreated, the mare charged towards Quintius Fulminator, burning iron aimed towards its chest. Grabbing the pieces of silver with a single hand, Sextus prepared to lose himself in the woods.

He did not dare to look back.

The coin for Kerres was not returned.

#gen #ancient rome #A/A #angst #super heroes #HoR

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autolovecraft · 8 years ago

Text

Their older men gave him space to lean and rest.

From the motions of the earthly traveler.

Carter the columns stopped, and in numerous hewn chambers were found terrible carven altars and doubtfully stained fonts and shrines for the cold waste, wherever that might be guarded by winged diarote lions lead down from his window, of course, making the way to find a boat in this primeval passage. And Carter walked with in the gray twilight gave place to the taverns of the clouds, but still the vile bird winged meaningly through the night. They told him furtively by the obnoxious stems of lunar horrors might be needed.

Vaster and vaster loomed the tenebrous towers of the night. The farther they went, the galley was steered boldly through the sinister merchant shone so feebly that one tower room whose size was so little less than human dancers, and then the tall steeples and winding hill streets where wooden ox carts lumbered and feverish merchants cried their wares vacuously in the original part of dreamland. Carter put out of the yak often slipped on the city where meadows roll gracefully up from the black wale and the vault-like air; and although the sound of his loyal defenders. Each day the sun, and wide streets marching between delicate trees and the creatures was in the rays of sunrise on the outside were far from encouraging. The Other Gods, the ghouls and night-gaunts whereby they explained the loss of such things no more. Only a very great isle, and Carter at once apparent to Carter. Full twenty feet he felt he could leap off the evil procession from a far hill that it might be available for a buried Gug will feed a community for almost at once resolved to find the feared and unvisited quarry whence hands older than history, and Carter was not a reassuring thing. Soon the peaks were again visible above the perils of the almost-humans gradually joined the hellish whine of the Other Gods were born again, and taunted insolently the mild gods are absent, the crawling chaos Nyarlathotep.

But that offensive galley did not wish Carter to let down a ladder; for verily, they tickled him with greater subtlety. Farewell, Randolph Carter steal to the gilded spires of infamous Thalarion, that are never told. There were many men in that tavern Carter saw by the seaward wall among traders and sailors. The Zoogs did not aim as far as that useful beast could go, far distant from the stars in places where lava-gatherers returning with laden sacks from Ngranek's lower slopes and feeble shrubs above them, but Carter did not try to land elsewhere on the greasy walls and courts, its flattened dome, and Carter saw ahead a trifle from one of the column advanced out of earshot, and Carter knew that the illimitable Southern Sea flying by in unnatural swiftness. So. Uneasiness rustled through the aft.

Carter was not well that earth's gods to their chosen victims. Yet have these gods kept you from the enchanted wood. In a detestable square a sort of overseer would pinch experimentally—were unloaded from ships and nailed in crates and boxes or driving nameless and frantic designs.

When the last echo died away. No other human presence was indicated only by its flying hooves fell over a parapet of Notre Dame. The battle which then ensued was truly a frightful one. Of other clothing they had warned him he was obeyed; so that in a black cave on an alley of steps that are gods, but Carter felt the terrors of nightmare as earth fell away and the washed-down walls of myriad little houses. Carter, boarded the evil-smelling crypt, and descend at last; Pickman and the smoke of cottage chimneys, and even they were, and stupidities. Some of them dares even approach the central tower with the evil one, and their infamous ways.

The ship itself, moving more from automatic impulse than from reasoned will; nor is it unwhispered that deep flights of onyx, and some of them. Great Ones wished to learn its legends from old people and lava-gatherer scratched clumsily in the slanted light, he did so a spot on the little couch whose pillows were stuffed with fragrant, drowsy herbs. Seek out your marvelous city, and Carter saw that crag he gasped and cried out aloud, and wondrous with high fanes and carven places. Once a lookout reported fires on the dais was without doubt the High-Priest sad with inner secrets.

Then the two columns a lone pallid light was seen hovering timidly over the slippery floor of an open street he wriggled worm-like, and bore above their foreheads was in his fancy.

No mountain known of man, and anxious to preserve a means of ugly gestures. Then into that gaping well which rumor holds to reach down to the foot of the dancers became tinged with a shudder the circle of the ship lay to under the stars, necessarily vague as it was not disturbed; for his act in reporting the plight of the twilight reaches of a frightful red-footed wamps that are never told. But that offensive galley did not, despite their material, invite either appropriation or long inspection; and told him how sorry they were in earth's blackest crypts, and which no cat can endure the gray twilight waned and the creatures was in his conversation.

It was dawn when they came again—You need only to mock had that black messenger revealed the downward hopping of at least within a harbor formed of steep and slippery stairs. Presently three other ghasts hopped out into the sky, and this the Gugs were one sentry less, and let them see and tall cliffs on the evening of the night. Presently from the marvelous sunset city of broad squares and prismatic fountains, you need only to cats on the borders of the old days, and Carter could see from his far realm on the banks as that useful beast could go, far beyond the Tanarian Hills and is ruled over by that King Kuranes, clad in a tavern. New Hampshire roads where giant elms half hide white farmhouse walls and broken columns and swept on, rounding the eastern gate and across all those leagues of pasture land, rose the uncouth stones of a park sloping up or down, with the whole a double line of march. Landward beyond the city. Ten feet from Carter the columns stopped, and which lie always in high vortices of gleaming mist. That mouth had great yellow fangs and ran when he suddenly recognized the frantic meeping and glibbering.

And by evening the low railings guarding traveled highroads. Wine was produced from one of Throk's peaks. The army would fly high, they were not the frightened hoof-beats of the newcomers; whereat the latter retreated through the dark upon the jagged rock while he thanked them kindly; and its rapid bobbing flight through the flume-like strait, but none of them seized Carter and his guide climbed up an alley that was Pickman now went below and gave him blessings and warnings of lava. And Carter saw once again with a sombre and polished loveliness; and at intervals lone huts of granite none might say whether this evil plateau with its bottomless well and repellent bronze door lingered restlessly in his eyes after the things he had seen the carven mountains stand guard. Always ahead loomed those titan walls, and who own not Nyarlathotep but hoary Nodens raised a howl of triumph when Nyarlathotep, horror of infinite shapes and dread soul and messenger Nyarlathotep. But when from its high tower the great wall of an almost-humans on deck would perceive the invasion of the void S'ngac the violet valley where the ladder, and in the dark to where unknown Kadath, which is the crawling chaos to give. All this while there had stretched before him the goal of convergence beyond the walls of myriad little houses.

It was dark when the singing sounds. For a week with rubies from lunar mines there was in the symmetries of the ghouls favored the design, but only gold and marble city of Gugs to the prisoner as a signal to proceed again. Atal, however, had risen with floods of weird light over the edge of the Shantaks fly screaming away from an unseen thing, for it is better to let himself be borne along smoothly and passively in the enemy's course would be all gorged and snoring indoors, and hastened back through the town is thronged with the Shantak till he knew he was still, for such a person might well expect a breathless second the leading ghoul pushed Carter to the gray death-fire and roared with the generals, he perceived that it led steeply on in a great lone building on a mountain could rise so vast as seen from the three sardonic merchants stood grinning nearby, and the fatter ones, whom it is well that they know it is unlawful for men to see again those living faces so like the godlike features of that galley's stay one of them were quite furry. Here they had of course to return through them; and Carter saw that the likeness was more than a Dhole, which is always turned away from an unseen thing, offering his prayer as a free and potent master of dreamers that Randolph Carter, though perhaps it had followed him had not fought the Gug sentry in the bazaars of Celephaïs in Ooth-Nargai, and when upon awaking once he thought of Kadath towering lone with its towers and eyries and fortresses chiseled from the chill that he wished none the less fabulous parts of the rock were heard.

Trapped though he dared not go unaided; for in those trackless leagues beyond, and never a cheering purr or a marvelous city of vision, for he soon saw that he had asked of his nightmare company when there rang without warning through that enchanted and phosphorescent wood of monstrous trees, and to visit the scattered farmers and traders filed ashore and through some narrow gaps between tumbled walls, he felt the terrors of nightmare as earth fell away and deliver him to divine.

There it shimmered like a vision under that gray twilight waned and the Great One's curse no Gug might ever emerge from that port.

And as he climbed.

Most of the grayish-white blasphemies they worshiped as gods, the groves. It spoke, and its gate of the palace itself no visitor may enter; and it was ancient Trevor Towers, where assuredly he would meet the under-manned galley of the injured men. Meanwhile the three rescued ghouls who knew precisely what those howlings meant. Carter did not like to ask questions; once in antediluvian times, as at first he did not wish to say that they were above Thran, where he was much reminded of those unseen rowers steered not for an instant did the stench of that scabrous and unwholesome beast, whose strange-faced race of the rumored Shantak-birds, and it might be, and he heard it clatter down over the top of the rugged conical mass. The third night he felt the bondage of dream's tyrannous gods; for not a scrap of provisions was ever sent aboard. The flutes stopped, and wondered how close a watch had all along the quays for some hand greater than that of the steep roofs and cobbled ways and the vault-like from its unknown shore, and how their ruler is not of earth that he did so each trumpet flew abruptly to its mouth.

#H.P. Lovecraft #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains #The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath #1926 #The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath week

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libidomechanica · 2 years ago

Text

From year to me: what may die

A rispetto sequence

And in my brain. And I—my harp would ye wonders of the heare the rout of baser subjects only worth will buy me a new got to be; loved, the trust; and other wand. And seas I’ll behold water yet—ah me! Life and lende me there within. One touches in rank come smoothly this. I ask’d my distress! From year to me: what may die. Wonders motions gently with his pinions.

A fable, fill my Juliana comet beneath his doubtful arms and dreams sir Galahad sir Launcelot and deep dells, in while I lookt other this day is holy to kindling; but by a right have a home, and hopes as if something exhausted and Nature lesson fringed loues prayse. Should murmur on the flock of Faeries, Giue me sad I know. To feel their power.

—This Dignity and plainly through them a gnarled started town, I found her to hour, behold jar with threat force press’d the bels, to hear the ruled with lasting it abroad water page, that fly with toil, increas’d; for I heard there, that each other little sheaf? Distracted with the danced in their dead to do, young to each fields are sighs amid these warriors; brazen beaks about in my heart.

Rust, that pelt us in the placid awe, the student at thy though Amphion Audley Court a nymphs round the green of roses sweet, it will not contemporary bust. A little as the woods that grow are of milk shalt have head is set on one came downward kept; wooing that might I have of grain by which shall fix her places may be fancy, and hear the spite, has dived to be.

Oh, wast my clarion’s hands full of ash and began, and the dawn, and heale, that worths surmount. Thoughts on the woodman-blind. Gaze with alleys, wear the Dew-locks the youth that meet in a garden through their shafts a blushing dews that come for human, divine—a tale had breathe adieu! To shift an army down. And hoodman-blind. An eye, and lie fall; but how tender heart with firm and smile.

’Er like a tried, and passion growth about his father in a housefyres, nor are with thee. Mine, forgetful shore, when we went from bonds that hight, shall silvery sin for our mirror of birth, the labour be: listenest to Ghost. Long years of the depth their inheritage doe ye to hye. And, silence: there in young, ’twad be kend, beated Thine on Death fell in my bondage.

And elate would not seen they be not a sight, and cove; my Arthur new Year’s please him she sinless they anoint to me remayne, poure not wasted loves no Room foreign lands where he alighted at the best feel things I love as they do defined. Push your eyes were ford the darken’d in all her pillar of deep-seated hot with his could not wrong: we service such deformities!

More the wave recall more subtle Censor scrutinize. My horse o’er the Girl, in royal throne, with hum of town: I met them guide. And there child in deeds in single wilt thou great distress? One thou thy prevailing moon dropped. Twice had gone in Wolues, ful of love. Her eyes; and scattering for the elms, and waft him crying alive, and loved remain the fear of Michael Angelo?

This hoary mountains, breath: I think of time? Mine owner’s England, who pleasure of a mornin’ to e’enin’, he still danced her; for he nould a maid, even to hearts, suck our dream, then begin to loves tip with beast and groans of ambitious fear of women in rest, I nill be wells should gladly beams more there. Like light; a doubt, till repayre. And she with as vague designated great.

In a bride, some pierc’d and Kiddie be ruld by mee, and bay; rough the christall my Juliana came, and soon reache: see, doo you saw thee my sorrow makes us with fresh, my thou should not say some levelling. Was long year of waking, so thicket hid I curs’d the broke, and mingling breast, and when I desire shone a fable, song, that tipple in the should wrong: we service.

As some home. And blow the skies the tomb for thy laurel, let him good broade vnto my heart of her your path a smile on his nativeness faded leaf whereas here would have doubts that sweetly from yonder, and then gan his course we to pale lies; and thou like Jocasta in a gold-eyed fly the red fooles talke without a slime, a man rais’d his lap a book, the tedious book.

It is to thin, they were in fee. The morning complain how few! Some wanton is, school’d one with the sheaf afar, and forth by which were sorrow kept? And the sonnet-a-Day Newsletters reede a lesson fringest not unallied to speak. Premier or vanish’d eye, shall such follow’d towards the house that count as kidde mought his silence on- a-time wilder’d face: he left to me: I bring.

The higher raven’d quick and all wouldn’t be kissing to heaves a song an inner, here in the floods, or in his very winter, so I taste like a man; whose hurt, express here a rustic tower; but knows his fellow-men with Hope had ceased: a gentler feeling for the storm mayst seem’d to the fickle and plight with sighs a passion hath sunder’d in your absence! That dwells the soul?

A thousand there nys to be burn, or stack of us thoughts around—But when we cease your eyes with Death, this of our only to set a things, and yet is beating, then would give, the fair lady he swung the command, the wild a fresh, with the Crannied Wall godiva hero To Leander and floods in a Heap of Dung. Weeps I come, letten thro’ summer’s face, that reverence.

That not Cinthia, she turn’d away likeness of pucker’d free of wrong you, your deeds and hear heaven, the lonely grace an oil paints doth before love! Attend you and babes, and madness, Evil haunted. Thinks he wall; and in my minnie to see the lip short Story Contentedly I view a face with as vague fears not the Veil may know it, and now that make a Lady Flora.

And yet thee forth the words; and, a kindred spirits of an amulet the lake’s surface crisp. I trust should trust that help thy face and moulder’d o’er young to her in the durations blind, embrace, clad all along, when an elephant, and turns once lust, has dived to swear how his lips—’Twas free woman, so sweetly enter in the full widdowe behind, I saw growth most rich in good.

When there not to hit. And read o’er ocean-bed. I as I am had remember’s earth, for the world of such Liberty. A dream a dream, then sparkling grape of life, but ioyed in their dull mortality: I prest and kinsman to waite on his snow-white. The Kraken their parks sometimes were missed or mockers and looke, he look’d them: thus he bore with scoffs, I met wi’ an auld man.

When I caught breaks the space, and not the mind? I am pierce an oil paint the Letter the Princess— why not makes black night see their high-built me a nearer I approuance down the works within that lose that dimmer ever so. Lest life was dear, but hung like in the constant mortal, or his own, this feet emerg’d and bristles all was free, whose that miss’d sae dear. For she herself was.

Sin of swans upon the world, æonian hills of my limb; I felt the flood as this a sudden blow, and more. A flutes; be tendency towards journeyings! In all in one of life was used to knows not what significent, and onward; still coin you! Bundle or restrained to which grassy nest! Above; sleep, when the tree. So early blank to peace, as he liuen, at ease, they stood, before then.

And shorn of pride in the indifferent flower the cataract for the land, ring, in booth and tear. Among six boys, whose hill aguish gloom of evenings above the ending that errs from me again the blew silken courtship grew, for the Spiteful tact, the night: get up, as men and good. The deemed shee set her greene? With frights; but the earth? New grows defined. A truth be true this day.

Another throne of large dark came golden hair; till Thou only conscience never mind. How sweet odes of the reads they call’d me while yet is latest break the while I weep and therefore like my sweet April violet of the Rhine; the fault is younger seized with a storm burst a lark hung swollen at the less view, what world’s end; and fountain freezing ready yellow musing cup, the wine.

Fair-haired and a day, half-conscience and wanted the showers that woulde once lust, modest eyes of the Netherby gate, Luke Havergal—luke Havergal. Of mercy come, my wavering: truth; it is not thilke same, and vain—she cannot heart, if you linger’d over me, and lull a fairy- press ooz’d out, is on the shore, involved in meaning life-enkindliest crack’d, thought see the place?

Our close without a place where rivulets dance with that all my past—I wrote thy triumph was not Death for the Saviour’s feet with blush ye loue does not amiss. The fresh crush her, like fair eyes were inherited sin on that’s innermost and farms; they met, and so may Place retain us dwells of my life away from thee. With festal cheer’d the cause where she space, lyke Phoebus’ sake!

Thy love, why head, while sheaf, or low morass a cruel. And yet is drawn a lightfoot mayds of the host mov’d on misse, when other to beare, see, many a shiver’d with White-thorn and good does ly in prospection passion in his auld man may the region bids me fight, to what from naturally lying deep. Make one would licensed boldness like things which the women are not self-controls.

Yes, a still slide. Home when flowers and Thetis pearly wandering in the swallow echo ring. It was slowly ground, from which with all the letter to mead, or sing, the threw down to sleeps the northerns blow; and Mary. Had every living from thy starry head, thy slide into forgotten resum’d in all its arms to feede, or but say, nor let me here. No, nor your absence!

Day, opprest nature may nevermore, and the Geaunt hast their grief a stranger than all they’ve taught once we desert for my hands bear, her lip kissing each others steadfast in bud, he took it up the expressive as the mimic picturesque and more thyself I pray persuade with you? That rounds, by the banish’d these words and wise, that serene replied my eyes and small birds do blow.

Thy seruants simple sport the frosty window brings deep, when fancy-fed. The false Foxe, for the limit of transparent reed white, and ripe-ear’d tree by learned much more thee with me the spite; and, maugre both to brows of the river. Are vaine on Death I wreak the deepest? And leviathan, and the vaults are come the poles, too solemn for we were vnprouide for ever drown’d, let him kind.

My sovereign balm derive, that beauty to Neptune’s blue quilt and pine, and Love be so phantasy; for I cannot guess’d; who please him livid: how specific yesterday my hand the circle drawes them. Of sorrow’d that had sette to desire the come ye in place? Take wing: since all the center email privacy refunds advertise content to reach outragious.

My blood-shed fly, ofte peeping kine, couched in the creed—who tremblings of Loues long day, half-lost invest, and wide, look’d upon a dead to forget you went upon the fading ruin each wish to his immortal as I have disparage such utmost quiet find in thy harsh net? Thought me, that he should flings hovers fill me wise below and right; he put our simply human face.

Out thy sister, sung, so light, and so thick and blesseth not eat my Grandmother their eyes and dance all about the mind, and for my body. For think to Us essay this. Fu’ loud with golden keys, to make me freezing reuenge, upon her guide to its bridale poses, bound it. Those perfect stars the sweet commingled corn and began retreating, and breaking her he speak.

Of gone to live to have behind, and pillow: now sleep, gentle health, ostage of all motion, save him an’ wrack him, this island I will last time ne’er where in your hands full of gladness, thought wind, which when we were sorrow specious odor, a moral odor, a moral odor, It is lower of course of him I loved and downe, ribb’d and solace single with God. Some divine.

Met palsy half a bee! Thy married: but, crying, knowing with agonies, with your heaven. Of every partner in these words, and I’d plung’d forlorn. The same sleep, gentleness their leave us like a mer-creature in oversight. The Letters of me any sea-swell the schoolboys’ barring urgent I have learne to this request. Would reveal’d; the dead things Will Die now Sleep.

In fact I care not suffer’d vines, teeming exhausted a purer air, or leave thousand trouble of the dore her blossoms are full of acclaim. Ring orchid that shall seized my words and fears: the yeare, sicker with thee is gross painted fayth and from a cup. I bow’d that the new apparent lawn and foison of the woods now behind those blest that seeks are little village of place.

But somewhere, nor chang’d, how desolate my waking loved youth, yet less, tame, and every mounting mighty conscience, ’ I replies with him with trembling stuff might now we sat but she wilder’d vines, teeming-wantonness; some law, one and with blis. Breakfast of life breathe one little; but forth her bow. Blowing to solemn joy, that lightning, and from the clouds. I climb the lost as much I fear!

There mirth is fixt and with elation made green zenith ’bove that bubbles milky white hair on to win less bleating hys heauinesse, vp to you To you are all upon a rock and my prayer to taste away: the keen sent from hiding- holes, to moue, who read thy bless the grass, does not for one so clean out your soft arms empale freely our fatal pool, the hall-door, in you.

No lapse of the years to loue, open the moon is new got to hill answer from the secular abyss to confuse a total silence: the fruit among their fairest both brains and Tree. Her brown, chid her other’s child—little she inferior feare not love doth devise a total opposition? The world enamour’d drums, and the true love, first were re-animated.

Where happy valleys, wearied the Worldly Wisdom. Fly with unaccustomed lighted way. Then? Father forward weight, and yet perhaps, as earnest as truly lov’d an old wives are two comes out of din, and made the bright; for thy lips and plenty of my designed to angel pure and beckoning cloudless headphones. Lest he left the fire, and did makes me sure, and their silver-white.

Next look the branchy bower doth her arrows long hair into the Lion with itself as blest shade that then once too hast the warm’d and lende me loved me though less bitterness, tis better anguishment, a potentations chair, or limb, when once a lily, breath. ’St the bushes Stygian, it might to lull a fairy-press gray, and made me mine retorne, for such Liberty.

The flesh, from land of her bow. The was your should mark of Time—the shocks of old in a weapons had mast, animals are flowers and that darkness whom I would pile he was used thee all you know no more than a lonely thought rheum to know. And in the type this the suns. We are not; or sonne, the victim for Two; lest, knowing season given to you and many room turns a stress!

To riper years had night as carried next day by thee speak of flower, I added presents the lilies of the Lark, to fear. Be long must we pass; the blown away; I hate’ to me this, and he felt it, beast and palled it or nothings may so loud aduaunce awry, which the empty air time shall adorning Thames, adornd with mortal, enter; hear the widow’d hint, and smile.

My life that Time hath beneath the objects there please the green before the lightning, that thou can heal; the eternal process monster, when you depart, and hear the while now, and welcome where came to they rest, ’ we saw the moon, visit my Corinna, come, my Corinna, come, that this merit live but by day haue need of their than praise saying, yes. What was born; seal’d her laddie death.

And her the Life in me. And dull’d with a human worth, to work is her barricades with sacred Altare doe ye sleeps; I smell the last, to all the winds were by; we keeps a trusse of Nature’s breaking out the foaming from the body than a long vveary death-shadowing Cups run vp and seem thy peers. But halfe aghast, lowdly she thews of circumstance. Knows not beg a smile.

Or deep dells, in gulf him from the law. Our piece of the birth, this kind; why let us be marked by the roring Organs loudly place whereas my spirits of Feare dangerous god rimmed were with point, with darken’d ways, and wind there, a seed, the here, to uttering this gather’d when the enamour’d drums, and small poetically? Give with roarings no more, and o’er young Lochinvar.

He brought feare of the sod. Beside those of my love letter by far, I am so much let my power? My bosom of Material Form, and lo, thy diadem, a silvery gras, twixt cape of large expert in our shade that this loines which theyr glorious make the golden home. Nor borrow’d most my glass; and all the dore stand here is in my blood a freshness die.

—I’m o’er thy lying changes wrought for though I care not a world! And I and swell, may God make me with sing and woke with agonies, with gay girlands, like a weak in figured, glorious sea is the wake the only to moves her prayses loudly modest, chaste our home-run total is dash’d with these and clamour, agitated People, with vntimely from mortality.

Sonnet-a-Day Newsletter by far to follow towers, Let There shee set thy thicket chirr’d: the dead words that Other forehead sport of those fancy, when all were all the bows, she foster’d the woods shal answer’d: Wherefore things that so adorn my breast; moving on my brows went form by which true goodnesse inly I pitied would groan forged a name as fruit; whiles with cries alone.

Then would a mat of England, left me dearly! Go, for their backs, and I was free, till forget are each has made a wife ere I chase eternal process monstrous stone she constant shade falles it not, for their shall lend to the door. Who loves, the bride, and of tryfles at hys backed and impute, which the widow’d by his the brands without calling beforne, for ought, that dark blue plums.

My lovely Moon! Day, marke in Nature’s best, ’ she taken to bear, I falter where was on a turf growing too come to him, in the shall besides his day. Whatever way my youth; and feel, across the eternity, promise of duty, something this poor once to bride had been told then, with loss, to change is on, and belabour doest strike a ghost radio, may find, ere heart.

Yea, tho’ always under-pencil’d shade, I clasp? And forever at the flocke, sick with good does sad Time could his being cries again, we two, we have mov’d, even now, the murmuring in his ashes me foolish pride fluctuation swept, but what you cause I must be then can be contend a zealous of this which at ease a gazer’s wishes, the dead! Further of the bells.

To make her the loam, my only boon of these, whatever wakes black distil through the total world! These, while I lay me low; my paths of my cheek is pale: for Wisdom sleepe the waxen heat, the liquid sweet souls: I heart was so enamour’d as the garden while expected, have felt the grief, can every creepe god bless of dew. Can we loved and Nature vnidle knows his Embleme.

And send it true, no more? If all with what point: my Lady of Shalott the foaming graces the speed ruffle thy place, that euen th’ Angelo? Moved on towers to clasp and walk as from the Eolian twang of your hamlets; here she appears, on wholly chere thing an open at the door of human hand lives. Out of being a prayed from the express all-comprehend things.

Of earthly of these thing with me now, those they knowledge is merchandise, of what is one wreathe threshold on life that his demand northern Farmer nothing is lost Arthur, whom I tried and ever rise on some wild unrestrain and flung it done eager cares, and down thrice blest my glory of my soul was gone? Moved as kindred little wicked and read think of the boundless age?

She know, to the skirts of the hirples them—maidens of the sea there it came: I saw her foul pride fluctuation blow in the lowness of your eccho ring. And not thou likewise I have leisure for constant gloom of that we linger than down by gladness in the clouds and gold: calm and fly to thee which help not Joy, but not a Prison make Love will increasing game, the curse.

Who pleasure? Forgive what shine upon the lazar, in your hair on the mood of all the brother, may countenaunce, that breathing with wit, as in his ashes for fear of the hill and to dreary splendour gradual to a needle’s end to enclose benevolence she comming, marke in whisper fall; and all the show appearing through the Carian, breathless, seem to lifeless.

He past; a life in part insensible eyed. To her, those accents sink away from the shore, when it puts all ungratefully. What force, because of May poetry none a net whose thought; and, star and fresher form, should’st thou remained, whose holy Death. But still. As something else by arms, my loue, open the faded cheek,—who sang for their high-built organs loud; and hoodman-blind.

At stood on the boat is She butchered prove; sleep, gentle Orb! But what ye forgetfulness; when, whole little lack of deceitfull meanings are like grounded in his low, when thirst, but comes of her guitar, o loved along have his dripping down, we becomes the brushing all. Whose rosy warmth with the garden for sacred Phoebus in them, is lone, embrace and join’d each other’s gain.

Is it, that ye do, albe it gloom of ever so. If it was in a wondrous sea is the giant’s bier she was his forehead lake came quiet sense to its head, sleep, gentle sport they said, and he be. In the head to know he is a hand, a hand, the coast to the voice, and sunly and laugh’d, and true, as long harmonious year I slept. It is a sudden hem also fall.

That I am and must be worn hermitage. List you dream resolve the body, and whay, and shock of jar impact collapse flash like birds tune things may served the rough the child, the opening past, presents the sea! And impearl’d with backward glance to pine and generation blow bundle unthreshold of these meadowy curves, thine eye and I am a friendship as had laugh’d out.

Doth follies as true, ’ have been thy selfe I need of sound, our careless phantasied. That God, immortal as I think of the time to all thee: thou speak on my crowd—but yonder on crystal place, but you come, wear the his chance against thou kenst the folded gloome, and say, to find and go by summits fed with trees and up holy to singe of sanctities a Pumpkin why on You?

To clap their of trees laid theyr carrol sweet son! World, while its heavy head, at noon or most shall I take! Draw from on his wand again, and for him tenses the bower far away. As breede. Content be as unmix’d and unto love be sooner than before the prow; sleep, and all hast. I weep the gulfs beneath and go. To what to me, had we both freshlier overhead. She know.

On the woods may mountain fresh virgin-treasureless in waters did honour thin elements. Of lusty head turning sun, and suburb under heare hearts with the bears immortal state to die, mine own mirror’d masters that seemed to bursts in seems a serious heavy load of men,—what I did not comes the starry clear as they enter’d trident sudden by lightsome will.

It is laid, and wind it rouses thinking, and pall, I triumph of old in yonder dropping a truth, with the garden flew, and woke with wail, resum’d in a word, and softly, flute of hem scorns from their symbols by thee. Delicious tears, your panting by fishes take for Juliana came, remade the thick noon, disastrous eft was half the river Kiang, pleasingst confusion.

Ere the growing how the rules did we went till indistinct now doth shepheards God so wel them pure, tho’ faithlesse harmes, ne let the birds, so that dare to give me room contagious. All blindly with tangled marriage. Deep folly and point: my Lady. She enters, ambrosial dark, and forever and will in trowth, I dare she touches it sin and silence, the giant still are dry.

Lanes more that had beauty dwell in my body. It circle moanings aloft, and thine in rock, at this glad; her life. And tell the Mayfly is to beare, is outreach’d the near, and peaceful tact, the world of a surprise a heap of Dung. And crowning in the Nereids dance to the Heaven, her lap did shouting shade fallen on the distant heat began to the bride, some freend he show.

Dear one hope, to pleasaunce, that men die miscast. Of all my wish the Forms of Anakim, the herd, as that blossom. She is not through portly pace, with which have been told about the spirit, Ghost to loss is in his searing when the past the earth of Chance—the present, but by the wings of gold around, from law. In while my verse alone. The precious bosom’s core shall figur’d ill.

’Er young so proud usurper, and wail’d below the pictur’d the red for whose rank exceeds her night, soft, unseen unto the soothing sail, or any overmuch; i, the bloom, my blessing: Mark me! And leaves with new born, a bitter, so I thoughts around, you and you in Grecian darts about on a sterile beach. Syrian blue- eyed nation feed with howling, nor fortunes all.

The shore and Love but a weapons had all that pass to raise; or in emerald of all Creation, or in thee which you this—to tell, and seek a friends that whispers of gold, and read again the hugs his fear of women are all his face, and harass’d by the lesser grief, can every sybbe to your side. So may Place retained, one less gray, and round about its in his was gone?

And I was gone sea-country hours conduct by paths of home; and, past, a solemn to thee who in that bubble of colours on a tyme in juice of true blood, my Adonis, and love, adieus, and juicy hay from whose deserted water- work of being exhaustless! And will not heart I must part it, giving grace is earliest moon dropping lips? Behold the silver-white.

A fellowship so true conclusive problems, recalibrating shore, and wife an iron dug from more it ran the deep, when more wakenest with fire. I firmly trodden usury, which he could given a life awayt, for to boy, human worth in close my endeavour thee. Come their dead we a measures were none. He fought others steadfastness. Amid think of the mark.

Born and owls whooped, and little within my heart’s greene woods; who lord of yet; and evening but ice- gravel. Ape and quite a solemn for constant ferns, and a mat of weeds were budded, her pillow in Eden with wine, the morn; now she linnets I with pointest out of shepeheardes shal answer, nor far; and their string; and o’er thy motions are mostly mine; for he with iollitee.

And home to tear me out was that earth, a votive candle. As daily books entered little dream a dream: but he for greedy men, and hint, and suck’d from the gay, for other dream of blood, knowing, at thy soul, a hedge, to wish them aside the moor. On thy face salutes that hear at the sound, in lands good for pity’s angel justice, ev’n tho’ it spake—The world have heart’s blossom.

Not make with thy dull narcotics, numbing pane? And wheel. Sweet after-morn content on Travel, others thus our heare both be true descending season is over it remember’s eye, whilst we remaine, with doubtful arms, wide sand, the should sleeps or wears his dues; for I took it away as ’twere pale; but more that died slave it also, the dead; and strain. And one tired; but the true.

At trundling and Locks pickt, yet, as cool as lightfoot mayds and transplanted to read’st thou shalt scorn: he breast. So rapt in compass’d, tis there the chaunst to knoll of acclaim. The palms of Heaven once I attend to theme, her fly, ofte peeped out of all thine on here, heap earth, and shade. And my brain with wonder when spoke and pining cake shafts, hissing sails, and wood wing my age with forever.

I guess; but let none other to him; and the melancholy corners of them the pure at all unmeet form thro’ prosper! The Severn fills the back to me, her he beat thou wast my clarion’s fine: if I may pay the love desired languish also crowning slope the trees laid their of the good, and half the lifted up in their leaves with fifty Mays, to heare you trust I grow!

I cannot say? Homeless in thee, and came, in hopelesse of the west, and innocence, put cross to make weeps I come hidden star or near; so light for a name. No long we were still a Boy, or Girle, this silent love thee and those below; and right too bold, but if ye comes to speak to meeting. So I and airy flower, I come food to die. With sudden fear is gone.

And thee these were mellowing, all the pinions. And condemn all suffer short Story Content, but day through your own might polluted way. And lo, thy nice to confess it pleasure of her wrath appear’d, as the sparkling finger of my faith many a finger to disgrace. Schoolboy heat, their fruit of his mothers ever realm, a calme and unto those which they trembling wood.

That, if you were coming years: they hurt me. My weary brow. Trees never throat blow the stand be procuress to clime, where lavish his own, and knows not, or in that guide, stutter tuning for the new, and in his singing a world of thee; they intervent kisse, thy darken’d minds, and Locks pickt, yet, we cannot stays higher heare the last faire face, that breast; and common! Chloris is gone.

Within a dream: but if beyond the star had fall, or from the conn’d so stedfastly, that wait awhile thus, dim dawn, again in grows and building might by night: and nocht could turns on in me, and the morn e’er where is now and thee form to strive, to bear; help thy voice of his native land? Yes, ever she took silent sympathy, nor any man colors it to make one will be.

Tho creep at earth do delight natured, my feel them and daunce. An infant ripe to praise. Of lust to comets, we are on to noise of those cold, I see with Death, and evening-moon. And he know, or, seeing, haue so much the bels, yet we fared; and all thy married next day by the gold and not find. They rest root; and nation one would. Shade, I clasps a golden sphere on the measure reign.

—All love, mere remember June the Spirit all upon the heau’nly beames, nor the East. Lulled to, a thousand yet God wote, such deformities! Of that I have I bow’d hint, and euermore— we sings of early this mayd. Breathe sound: each Atlas- line by line, rich in mine, mine own, and if we steep, where are Nature’s epigraph, new and retain us still crossing through those of moons?

And all the daisies kiss me to breathe away from world: and wantonness; some settles in his forepast; a little red piece of people breeze of grace. A warmth from out the dark yard Why, the stones, even to leaders three with his feathers over look’d upon the cheering graph, new and things I touches into endless eyes can equal mistresse, do the brands with mighty hope.

As some brightens too; and light, that shall seize thy motions are not makes hands to the final goal of the best lodg’d in his native haze of kisse, be bridal bowers without a slime, a tenderest of it. Forest-house returning dead we both to a dark verge of lies; the hearts. A flowers it is a woman, white-faced the waiting orchid that conquering steps luxuries!

And orb into love that follow the Miller’s Daughter the whole here once from thy shame, and silent and lucid depths of wheat and pale: for changest not undo this pride! Nor can doo it best you may’st places, to resound, sepulchral halls, and the welth and grace and let this rhyme to look alone? Kingdom topples wounds divine, and dear knee we proffer’d countenance take, or but I?

A touch wish to teach the news from thy stands hearing of poets, breathe and should trouble tide her hand answer to him. Had man never knew you run agrounded follow, and wishes me all religion, pages that then brine, until we closing cycle rich where of hop and sculptures of old hardly tell; ’tis as truly sympathy wisdom sleepe with blis. And those that makes break.

To deck the thought, and passion of the Geaunt hast smil’d delectable, and thee overwhelming loan; that those faire lines! You tell the blindfold sense of random scheme of grace, and cease ourselves in God, that somehow, I can seen, on him like a vision. He storm to the child: for Wisdom’s core shall we meet, whence I will change the years: the brought, a vanish’d. Like a jewel’d sand impearled.

If one far-off sail is bondsman that’s in your woods vs answer and you, kind, keep back to- night—the cast could makes me too whirl’d in yonder do inuite to give thou made, there Simmer eyes than see, and carrol sweeter man, he, would bring. What dies not a dawn in eastern gates were in overshadow waiting forth to bring me, and next day by the last wet steed—my stranger touch.

No—mixt with the calmly flowering of the Saviour’s commune dead, thy chance, among thence clearly faithful within its limbs: the westerne fome: thy tale bower of a happy hour of rest. When I shall not curst magic light to scale of thine bent toward fancy confinèd wing of your memory of white, her feet, my pilgrimage; until I see that draws, to clap the first doth swell’d.

The liberal-minded, great god Pan, ere he sailing Beauty and fate, and glass, and treat of worse, kneel’d down in their parks some now we return’d fiend from whence doe impaire: she seed; run out of the flying bright Sunne: and no place: shall not Maud’s darling, or both from the change of my own. Poets— as they dance, among. And muttering dumb; but ever here all unsweet: eterne Apollo!

And yet that counsell a throne: see not, if you wear are we student at the conclusive problems, recalibrating pH this serpent draws by: at night into a tempest mars mid- ocean, spare these; whose night, all for my though enemies to the sunbeam strike his heart was full of Noise about him, and act is one, overjoy’d, or she herself an hour’s command me, lives.

—If he year’s pleased to schools, let his doubtful joys for thou brings Eden on a time. Now burgeons ever noble many, who had died away, and onward went from love shall fix her place with fine existence in a clouds and N2 that we glances with my loose yellow within private sorrow o’er thee more wakeful ears, and see how can I not say some the rest, and turbans.

Them a gnarled start from state to dreams of spaces betray, if this face so great words a crown on kindred with tann’d antiquity, mine, unhoped for aye, that had redden’d her goodly vermill stayne, the faery people say. ’Er would pass that dwells of Death fell in pieces small birds for fear of fate, some dim touch of Death, nor can hope of them, like a flowers, in the distinctness.

And like again. Narrow day is done—how soon reach thro’ a latest his report, that say or two. Who kept the sultan of southern skies; so everywhere, and vnreuealed pleasant spell, or breathe? As hours, though thou be dim, with the Bird of louely granted, like Phoebus in tears, you pratest soueraigntie of reason ripe to burst open plaint: tho’ my life begin to looke to you To you.

Involves that stay’d in this mouth will be destroy’d. Far-shadow I with so dear knee we proffer’d, is but sweetest of hern and steadfast in baths of her you, you do not get far that may find another since I will growing pears! Memory disinterested chanting hands beare, and look thro’ wordy snares shall guitar, o love and blame if I praise because hath made December me?

Of happier than some maydens down which thy fathers of a wife. All foxgloves and woodlands good ear were all count the woods the comforting in the rooms in a ring? Before; and as I grant gloom again what I were first were close with us ran, and writhes a novel power of creeds in peacefull these glad at his liue, if a Poland far or blame not, the beach.

To whom they lay enter’d in this auld man. She sets her green of swans more bliss, when as Ioue with your be: listen their perfume like dying but with my white, and, full-blown by gladness is more than ours, we known, to where hardly knew who weep, shall bed remain’d, can mingled the golden day, and breathe outer ring? Leaves falling aft to waite, for I dare in the earth and honest do know.

And tuft with every thought control, o hear. And your to pleasure those fancy fleeting was flash’d suddenly features right and so he type shears cut short, did the show his own, they are, too solemn for their silence and go. Some plank, and like a fiend from hour away. And with one of emerald deep wrinkle into the weakness beckoned aptly to slant the door. And tiger die.

The sky; his finger of your last regret, but fire spurn’d gem, appeare in vain; remorseless bitter days agone her shock of Faeries, Giue me sae kindliest mad and Musgraves when I bow’d thou like Homer’s to a race be my leaping of friendship and strange. He took the landward steps; another’s face, I once a little patience ere not wrong the comfort fast, and that over.

We makes a silver spume against me in twaine, if calm and drinking aside to flicker now then, purer laws, and we went thou remain’d hale stream, and blow the tomb, a part beside that reach thine eyes on our old pass thy face where though Amphion’s blue lane of the wins, and go by summer’s storm their long use. Is dim, who change! Bundle ore, but evermore a tower; a cat of sin.

Do Thou only cunning, and his two communicate notes my breath; forgive that at the night: an infant crying, here through blindly to-day with joined hand, and in vain and save the bathroom flower to which these, asked me hear her thee all thy bared snow waiting for want to marry witch. I have but the sea wand’ring in the nested within him like a mellow musing forth shells.

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—’Mid the bond whisperst the day or silver lip kissing so preuelie he peeping in jest; and worth sing an image from our close her store ourself before dull you this—to tell me while the wise. And wild unrestrained was, the wins, and thus, ye speaking from the deawie night a fine with one of emerald. And I and skilless quite, that were reads the dews impearl’d with wail, resume then!

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Of his calm as to swoon. They gaz’d upon that look out? Jar impact collapse flash alone, with one mute to give up awhile something neer be all you canst not break him and soon I shall have lost delight. Our lovers, when you’re alive. I leafed thread, and receive thought socket&turne, whatever fickle tongues may be of squirrels, foxes to live with coral. But in the blaze of good?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #120 texts #rispetto sequence

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