#billets violets

[immoralimmortals]

Akatsuki members as perfumes i own

I couldn't sleep last night because I am haunted by visions that are so very specific to me and my needs. These are all indie company perfumes currently available for purchase or seasonally available. I am a creature of my senses, and therefore I am not bound only with the curse of associating music with characters, but also scents.

Pain: The People You Love Become Ghosts Inside You from Death & Floral

Description: Heavenly musk, lingering funeral flowers, cold scent of vanilla in an empty corridor, handprints on a foggy window

This is a scent known by its fans to invoke deep emotion. It has funeral lillies to a T. The title is the main reason for my choice, though I can imagine him smelling like this. It's the definition of cold and formal, like the corpses he drags to do his bidding.

🥀

Konan: Mnemophilia from Nui Cobalt Designs

Description: Stately gardenia, antique sandalwood, Florentine iris, pearl musk, jasmine absolute, neroli, and liquidambar.

This is a scent which contains notes I have not experienced anywhere else. It is like...you took the idea of a mirror and gave it a smell? It is pristine, classy, and oh so very melancholy. It makes me thoughtful, it reminds me of glass or crystal. Another "cold" scent, similar to Pain's but more of a sister than an imitation of it. Less about death and more about memory, as the name entails.

I also considered Billet Doux from Possets, which is meant to evoke a perfume-stained love letter. Also very clean and classy, but actually brings the impression of paper and ink. Also noticeably a lot sweeter than Mnemophilia! Perhaps more for her when she was young and in love.

📷

Obito: The Emperor of Ice Cream from The Strange South

Description: Limp flowers on a windowsill, strawberry ice cream, tobacco leaves, tonka, and a dribble of young blood.

Saccharine with something to hide. The blood note on its own (i was able to try it) is actually very fruity, like strawberry. I think the visualization of dripping blood and strawberry syrup being the same is wonderful. The tobacco comes through as the scent fades, becoming more mature over time.

👑

Zetsu: A Roll in the Hay from Alkemia

Description: dried hay, fresh green grass, early summer wildflower honey, vanilla grass, vanilla leaf, and wild poppy.

This one really just smells authentically like true to life hay. I can't wear it all the time but it's so, so distinct when I do. It's a scent for when I want to imagine I'm all alone, deep in a field of tall, dried grass. The only thing is that it is probably far too innocent for him. He would not *want* to smell like this.

But I do. Because it's great.

...Okay he'd actually smell like Esprit de la Terre from Alkemia which smells like pine trees, but I don't like pine trees! I'm going to make him suffer and smell like vanilla.

🌾

Hidan: Damned Nightfall from Death & Floral

This scent is fucking purple lmao. The violets are a little powdery, like the visage of something pure, and the rest is DARK. It clings to my skin with those deep resins first and foremost like incense being burned. Despite all the food notes, not one lick of sweetness, frankly not a bit of edibility. This is a badass vibe like a jaguar hunting in the dark. It bites if I put too much on.

Description: the deepest and darkest amber blended with violets, black labdanum, vanilla absolute, espresso absolute, fresh cocoa beans, and honey

There are scents that exist that mean to invoke the smell of blood, but none of them are real enough to suit him. However, the metallic nature of Scythe from Possets is very impressive and real with a suitable name for the Jashinist.

🌒

Kakuzu: JFK and Jackie from Possets

First and foremost, this scent is old school. The leather reminds me of what Kakuzu's skin may be like; I read a fic way back describing his earth grudge causing it to have that kind of texture. Perhaps this is what he'd smell like if you somehow convinced him to give you a hug. You know. Somehow.

Description: A snap of the finest leather, a bit of oakmoss, combined with tabac blonde essence, a whiff of tea, and the warmth of silk. 

There are scents that smell like money, but I do not actually like the scent of money. I'm sorry Kakuzu.

☕

Deidara: Morton Salt Girl from Death & Floral

I know salt doesn't smell. I know it doesn't. But this is what salt smells like. If you ever get opportunity to try this, do it. It's so unique. I think this would be a wonderful scent to imagine for his clay; it is so distinctly earthy, and the salty aspect reminds me of smelling playdoh as a kid (and putting it into my mouth).

Description: yellow musk, salt, and rain on concrete.

🧂

Sasori: Forbidden Library from Nui Cobalt

This is what his puppets smell like. It's what they smell like! I do not make the rules! It is deep, it is softly masculine, it is beautifully woody. This is the phantom that haunts the abandoned castle library, who crawls out of the ancient tome in your fingers.

Description: The vanillic scent of aging paper infused with ceremonial incense, venerable bookshelves of black oak and sweet himalayan cedarwood, a hint of mossy stone, and an undercurrent of faded suede.

Bonus points: this is one of the few perfumes I reach for on the weekly. It's so, so pleasant.

📜

Kisame: Two Cups of Tea, a Monsoon, Me and You from Death & Floral

Description: rain on cracked soil, wet creosote, a swelling monsoon, desert cedar, black tea. 

I am one of the only people that seem to take this as floral. The storm is there, it is humid and sticky and moist like rain in the summer, but I distinctly get flowers behind it all. I think it suits him. (And it is one of few aquatic scents that don't smell like laundry to me nor like cut grass).

☔

Itachi: Ghostfire from Alkemia

Has the distinct impression of paleness against a night sky, like a star or a will-o-wisp. It's a strange but haunting combo of melting candle wax and melon. There is a sugared and floral version of this scent called Foxfire, which perhaps encapsulates him before everything went downhill.

Description: A luminous attraction of ethereal white ambers. Hauntingly beautiful.

Another Alkemia scent is Burning Roses, which is exactly what it says on the tin but with the unfortunate addition of labdanum, which this iteration of hates my skin chemistry with a passion. Oh, what could have been...

🎇

[footprintsinthesxnd]

CONGRATS ON 1.5K JESS!!! 🥳🥳 i'm literally obsessed with the moodboard + drabble you did for eugene and violet....could we get josephine/nixon plus "It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway" ?? moodboard or fic, whatever you're feeling :) <33

Thank you so much for your ask lovely. It’s been so long since I made anything for Josie and Lewis so this one was a real treat.

The night was still and quiet when Josie crept from her bed, making her way over to the small window in the hallway. She peaked through the tapped up panes, wishing she could have a clearer view of the nights sky. The moon shone brightly over the sleepy town of Aldbourne tonight. There was no movement outside meaning the streets were unusually quiet, not even one drunken paratrooper returning to his billet.

Tomorrow was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life, and she truly couldn’t wait to become Mrs Nixon, but something kept her awake. It was a gnawing feeling in her stomach that just wouldn’t settle, and the more she thought about different scenarios of everything going wrong, the worse the feeling grew. Would Lewis really be at the alter tomorrow or would he have second thoughts? That was the worry that currently occupied her mind. Of course her friends had assured her that wouldn’t be the case, and Dick and Eugene were under strict instructions to have him at the church on time.

Josie sighed loudly, jumping at the light chuckle that came from behind her. She whipped around, tugging her dressing gown over herself quickly as she came face to face with the finger leaning against the door frame.

“Lewis, you scared me!” She scolded, raising her hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating rapidly from the sudden shock.

He smirked at her, sauntering over and placing his hands on her shoulders, “Sorry Josie,” he mumbled, placing a kiss to her cheek. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” she shrugged sadly, “I have too much to think about.”

“Not having second thoughts I hope,” he laughed, but Josie could see the concern floating in his brown eyes, the soft crinkle on his forehead making her smile.

“Not at all. I just… well I’m just worried that everything won’t go to plan,” she admitted, biting her lip sheepishly. “I keep worrying that you’ll change your mind”.

Lewis smiled, brushing the loose strands of dark hair away from her face. “I could never change my mind, Josie. I love you and I can’t wait to marry you.”

He bent down to kiss her, savouring the soft feeling of her lips against his until she pulled away.

“You haven’t had a drink?” She asked, it felt strange to not have the familiar taste of VAT-69 on her lips after kissing Lewis.

“Not a drop, I want to make sure I was up bright and early in the morning ready for our big day. Thought I might even surprise Dick and get up before he does,” he chuckled, “Although that’s probably why I can’t fall asleep.”

Josie smiled up at him, cupping his stubbly cheek in her small hand, “It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway either,” she assured him, pressing her lips to his once more. “And I don’t mind spending some quiet time together before the chaos of tomorrow.”

Lewis hummed in appreciation, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame and turning her so they could both face the window, looking out into the night. The sun would soon beginto rise over the tree line, bringing forth a new day, the biggest day of Josie’s life and she couldn’t wait. But in the cover of darkness she could relish in the comforting feeling of Lewis’ arms, his breath tickling her ear as he promised her that everything would be alright.

Tags: @georgieluz @mads-weasley @samwinchesterslostshoe @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @xxluckystrike @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsenthal @allthingsimagines @bucky32557038ww2 @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @1waveshortofashipwreck @sweetxvanixlla

[equipe]

Défi artistique : Déguis3ments maUdits

Oyez, oyez, apparitions spectrales et autres amig-os !

Cette année, nous sortons de notre chapeau magique de grandes figures classiques pour vous proposer un petit défi artistique en cette saison du frisson. Place aux présentations : voici Hewie le fantômblr et Bones le squelette (violet). Mais… vous pouvez les appeler comme vous le souhaitez !

Pour ce défi, commencez par choisir le personnage vous plaît le plus ou donnez libre cours à votre imagination pour créer celui de votre choix. C'est VOUS qui décidez, vous savez.

Dans la suite de ce billet, nous allons vous proposer des thèmes pour faire parler vos méninges, vos sens, vos émotions. Bref, votre âme d'artiste ! Voilà le défi : réalisez un croquis de votre personnage ou imaginez sa fiche descriptive en lui faisant revêtir un "Déguis3ment maUdit" correspondant à la thématique du jour.

Le défi se déroulera durant la dernière semaine d'octobre (du lundi 23 au vendredi 27), avec, pour chaque jour, sa thématique :

Lundi 23 : un vilain pour les gouverner tous

Mardi 24 : votre Barbie ou Ken préféré⸱e (ou simplement Allan)

Mercredi 25 : attention, pirates !

Jeudi 26 : en costume de tournée

Vendredi 27 : le métamorphe dans tous ses états

Publiez vos billets en utilisant le tag #cursed costumes (en anglais) et en l'accompagnant bien entendu des tags de votre choix. Vous aurez peut-être une chance de figurer dans notre onglet du tableau de bord dédié à la parade des déguis3ments maUdits d'Halloween, voire d'être sélectionné dans le fameux billet "Tumblr Tuesday" qui sera publié le 31 octobre par le @staff. Et n'oubliez pas de configurer vos options de contrôle des reblogs si vous préférez que vos petits personnages brillent sur les Internets !

Maintenant, c'est à vous de jouer ! Nous avons hâte de découvrir les fripes flamboyantes, effrayantes et amusantes avec lesquelles vous oserez déguiser vos monstrueusement adorables personnages. Que le bal (masqué) d'Halloween 2023 commence !

[bookwormscififan]

The Great War

Buy me a coffee?

Read on AO3!

Song Inspiration

A/N: JJ gets sent in search of Shawn Flynn during WWI. Some settings were backed in inspiration by the movie 1917. I just couldn't stop thinking of JJ and Shawn whenever I hear Taylor Swift's 'The Great War'.

Private Jackson ran cold water over his violet knuckles, wincing at the memory of how he got the bruises.

Standing in the sergeant’s office, paper in his hand, Private Jackson looked at his commanding officer.

“Sir, this can’t be right,” he began, “I can’t go to Gallipoli. I was assigned office work.”

“Private, this is important. They need more troops on the front lines.” The sergeant replied, turned to signal the end of the conversation. Jameson opened his mouth to respond, but then sighed and left the office, heading back to his billet.

Back at his bunk, JJ punched the wall in frustration before falling onto his mattress and rereading his letter of transfer.

He was joining Shawn’s infantry on the front lines…

JJ stepped into the camp, bag over his shoulder, and looked for the commander.

“Private Jackson?” The voice was commanding yet uncertain, and JJ nodded as he turned to salute.

“At ease, Private, formality is relaxed here. I understand you and some other soldiers have been transferred from base training?” JJ nodded, hands returning to their position on his bag strap.

“Yes, sir, I was. If I may ask, I believe my friend was assigned this regiment? Corporal Shawn Flynn?” The commander’s face darkened, then softened into an expression of sympathy.

“That is actually part of why you have been transferred, Private. Corporal Flynn took several officers to deliver a message to the front lines and haven’t returned. You and the others make up the rescue team.”

JJ took another swig of the brandy a soldier had given him, desperately trying to ignore the voices telling him Shawn was probably dead. He recalled his conversation with Shawn before he left.

“Shawn, promise me you’ll be alright.” JJ’s eyes were pleading as he looked at his best friend.

“Jameson, I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll try to be safe.”

“Just promise to come home,” JJ asked, reaching for Shawn’s hand.

“I promise. I’m your best friend.”

It had been four days, and there was no sign of Shawn or the other missing soldiers.

Through the cloud of smoke from old fires, JJ wondered if Shawn had planned this. Had Shawn planned for JJ to come over? Was it all a betrayal?

As snow (or was it ash?) fell on the fifth day, JJ caught a glimpse of light brown hair on the ground in the distance. Racing to the hair, he found his best friend, covered in dirt, bruises on his face, and eyes closed. JJ felt for a pulse, finding a faint one as his own heart leaped.

“Over here! I’ve found him!” he called to the others, beginning to brush dirt off Shawn’s unconscious body.

Shawn lay in the infirmary, smiling as JJ returned for the fifth time that month.

“Don’t you have work to do?” he joked, grinning as JJ finished his prayer and gently sat a poppy on the bedside table.

“They’re sending us back to base, Shawn. I was only sent here to find you, and you’re injured, so they’ve sent us home.”

Shawn and JJ sat in their shared apartment after the war, memories of crimson flowers flitting through their minds.

Every nightmare was met with a warm and gentle hand until it was second nature to reach out.

JJ’s nightmares were constant reminders of the night he nearly lost Shawn.

Whenever he told his friend about the dreams, the toymaker would simply smile and take his hand, reminding him he was there.

“We survived, Jameson,” he’d say, “I will always be your best friend.”

“I’ll always be yours,” JJ replied.

Because we survived the Great War,JJ signed, eyes full of tears as he finished his story. Shawn was gone now, and JJ had never felt so alone.

A cold hand gently touched his face.

“I’m… here… Jamie…” Robbie said, attempting a watery smile. JJ returned it, but said nothing.

[karometeenk]

J'ai publié 8 964 fois en 2022

C'est 1 743 billets de plus qu'en 2021 !

1 327 billets créés (15%)

7 637 billets reblogués (85%)

Les blogs que j'ai le plus reblogués :

@abba-enthusiast

@ukulelegodparent

@official-rolli-und-rita

@majortomwaits

@bouquet-of-violets

J'ai étiqueté 2 420 billets en 2022

#not me the series - 108 billets

#tatort saarbrücken - 52 billets

#abba circumcision anon - 37 billets

#bad buddy - 36 billets

#karocore - 28 billets

#spatort - 27 billets

#eurovision - 26 billets

#bad buddy series - 19 billets

#esc - 18 billets

#not me spoilers - 16 billets

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#but also what kind of life are you living where stranding on a deserted island is only the second most interesting that ever happened to yo

Mes billets vedette en 2022 :

n°5

okay aber WER läuft mit mir zusammen durch den monsun

337 notes - publié le 1 mars 2022

n°4

Th.. there's a Dutch Spoon Discourse?

Yes my friend. Even most Dutch-speakers aren’t aware of this. But once two people holding opposing views on spoons get into the discussion, blood may flow.

All of these things are some type of spoon in Dutch.

Ask a Dutch person to name these spoons and they would say, from left to right: 1. koffie- of theelepel 2. pollepel 3. soeplepel 4. eetlepel

Ask a Belgian the same question you get:

1. koffie- of theelepel 2. houten lepel 3. pollepel 4. soep- of eetlepel

Now concerning the first spoon, the problem isn’t so much that we can’t agree on what it’s called because we both use the terms interchangeably. The problem is that is that no one actually knows what it is. Is there a difference between a teaspoon and a coffeespoon? If a recipe calls for a coffeespoon, can i just use any small spoon, surely not all small spoons contain the same volume of liquid? (I don’t know what’s going on but i know the French are to blame)

The last spoon can cause a bit of confusion, because an unsuspecting Belgian who asks for a soeplepel for their spaghetti at a Dutch restaurant will get a very strange look from the waiter, and the Belgian will assume they’re being judged for eating spaghetti with a spoon. Hopefully the waiter will ask for clarification, but sometimes the waiter will either refuse because it’s an extremely weird request, or, in funnier cases, he will bring a ladle. But those who know about the discrepancy in meaning across the border, and don’t wanna cause problems on purpose, will use “eetlepel”, because this variant is accepted on both sides of the border.

Now it’s really the two middle spoons who are problematic. “Pollepel” is a wooden spoon to the Dutch and a ladle to the Belgians. Both sides are relentless. There is no possibility of compromise, no acceptable alternative. There is a hill nearly every Dutch-speaker will die on and it’s called pollepel.

Luckily this problem only poses itself in a kitchen setting. So mostly only mixed couples or college roommates and cooks in restaurant near the border have to deal with this on the regular. That’s also why this discourse is not common knowledge. People will go through most of their adult lives without every encountering this issue. Which makes it all the more shocking when they eventually do.

There you have it folks. This is the spoon discourse. For my followers who are trying to learn Dutch: i’m so sorry.

397 notes - publié le 12 janvier 2022

n°3

i thought "wifebeater" was the most unnecessary violent name for a piece of clothing one could think of but the germans are proving me wrong again

670 notes - publié le 15 juin 2022

n°2

if you told an emo kid in 2007 that the lead singer of their favorite band would one day perform in a cheerleader outfit, the ultimate prep uniform, they would have hissed and put up their middle finger at you

703 notes - publié le 25 août 2022

Mon billet n°1 en 2022

god i'm so glad i saw the original slug tweet yesterday. this site is never incomprehensible if you're just online 24/7

14 137 notes - publié le 3 mars 2022

Obtenez votre année 2022 en revue sur Tumblr →

[adrihelle]

J'ai publié 1 104 fois en 2022

C'est 1 102 billets de plus qu'en 2021 !

6 billets créés (1%)

1 098 billets reblogués (99%)

Les blogs que j'ai le plus reblogués :

@mccnknightstcrdst

@soundsfaebutokay

@sensitivehandsomeactionman

@seidenbros

@kell-be-belle

J'ai étiqueté 954 billets en 2022

Seulement 14% de mes billets ne comportaient pas de tag

#bridgerton - 132 billets

#mcu - 132 billets

#moon knight - 121 billets

#the witcher netflix - 99 billets

#the amazing devil - 98 billets

#bridgerton season 2 - 94 billets

#joey batey - 89 billets

#the witcher - 88 billets

#jaskier - 87 billets

#steven grant - 80 billets

Longest Tag: 54 characters

#please i want the season 3 to be about him and sophie!

Mes billets vedette en 2022 :

n°5

Thank you for tagging me @seidenbros! 💜 

I never really participate to that kind of tag before because of my shyness (even on the Internet). But why not trying something new for a change?  

Fav color: violet/black

Currently reading: I’m reading a bunch of things for my master about movies, tv series and monster’s concepts. But when I don’t do my master, I’m reading the fifth volume of The Witcher. 

I live in Canada and I’m speaking French (it’s my first language), so I read some Quebec writers; currently I’m reading Roux clair naturel of Fanie Demeule. It’s about a girl that construct her entire identity on a lie; she’s not naturally a ginger. The character is obsessed to keep that secret down but she’s feeling guilty about it and she develop an identity crisis. It is beautifully written. 

Last song: Say it - girl in red

Last series: High School Musical The Musical The Series - Disney+

Last movie: Thor: Love and Thunder

Currently working on: I’m currently working on my master (and trying to survive it!)

*Sorry for my poor writing. English is not my first language and it's been a while since i wrote in it!*

Tagging (no pressure!): @kell-be-belle @soundsfaebutokay @bridgertonland

3 notes - publié le 12 septembre 2022

n°4

Hello again, hehe. For The Horror and the Wild album ask game, 12 and 15?

For the 12: What song do you always sing along with?

I'm not going to be original, but it's definitly the song Fair. Whatever I'm doing (most likely writing my master that doesnt want to be finished) I wil stop myself and just sing peacefully the lyrics. They help me to calm myself and to believe that I will share one day a love like this with someone. It encapsulate the certainty of a tomorrow (something an anxious girl like me crave everyday).

For the 15: If you could recommend only one THATW song to your followers, what would it be?

I would certainly recommend That Unwanted Animal for the extraordinary performance of Madeleine Hyland. She have an incredible strenght and sensitivity in that song (that she have in all the songs of that album and others) but it's really remarquable in that one. Her voice is ethereal and splendid in it. And the song is really good and, in my point of vue, talks of another way of the anxiety and the depression that Joey and Madeleine talk in Farewell Wanderlust. The one coming from within that you didn't suspect was there but wait the most unexpected moment to eat you alive, destroying you and everyone you love and adore.

*Sorry for my poor writing. English is not my first language and it's been a while since i wrote in it!*

4 notes - publié le 9 septembre 2022

n°3

4. What song from Love Run do you always sing along with? for the album ask game. :)

Again, that's a tough one! I sing along all of them (or more particularly, part of them). Doing lipsync on the ''Fuck you'' in ''New York Torch song'' with a mask in a public bus is one of the best thing to do ever (you all have to try it someday). But if i have to choose one song that I always sing along, it would be Love/Run. I sing the whole eight minutes with my heart and my soul - when Joey sing the first Unemployed, my knees go weaks...

The melody and the lyrics are juste soooo fine! It's the promise for adventures, for fun, for lazy day without culpabilities, for love, for dead, for life, for everything. That the only thing worth to move, to do something, is LOVE.

4 notes - publié le 27 juin 2022

n°2

2 and 18 for the Love Run asks!

For the 2 : What song from Love Run gradually grew on you?

I would say Little Miss Why So.

I don't know really why, but at the first listening, I didn't understand the song. In fact, I didn't see where the song was in the story of these humans, what she meant for the two of them, what she was saying about them, about their relationship, about their past, present and future.

It's been only a few weeks that I really, but really listened to the lyrics and saw what that song meant for the protagonists in the vague and vast story of them that I made up (even that story change with time, with my endlessly listening of these songs).

For the 18: If you could pick one Love Run song to watch performed live, what would it be?

Oh my god! It's so difficult to choose! Like is it even possible to choose between one?

I would like to see King be performed just for that line, that I found absolutely beautifully written and sang:

The sea and its waters , every unwanted daughter (is that you're here)

Or even for the whole performance that must be to listen in live of New York Torch Song. Or even just for the comfort of listening Not Yet-Love Run in live.

Sorry, I didn't pick one song; it's just impossible to choose between all of them!

*Sorry for my poor writing. English is not my first language and it's been a while since i wrote in it!*

9 notes - publié le 9 septembre 2022

Mon billet n°1 en 2022

His hands thightened, and the space between them diminished by several inches. ''What do you see?'' he asked.  Sophie stumbled, but she never took her eyes off his. ''My soul'', she whispered. ''I see my very soul''.

Julia Quinn, ‘’An Offer from a Gentlemen’’

15 notes - publié le 25 avril 2022

Obtenez votre année 2022 en revue sur Tumblr →

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Became: till all my wings, lend wings, by thee, as doom”)

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

Became: till all my wings, lend wings, by thee,   as doom is incomplexions are they   mustachios moved until her the final lands on me, till outstript me in the same height, and wit, tho’ thrice blest Love answers, I heard   be lessening gleam, and the sea mermaid   the pity of himself, I tremble tongue aspir’d! Shone swear the cries, A thousand was the mother’s grave: my old and be procuress   to Miss, nor be present, regret, o   my fond they are dry. Licked in doubt my stomach one wit. On his thine—but. And traps; and angel of furious raiment, on the   hundred-gated child: for can be knowledge?   ’ The day bells, and the white and fair, poor this, if thou art just, no doubtful Beam long use.

               2

So kindly drop and keen seraphim and   giue hem curds and think of the world. Calm or   stir, which my flocks are on eyes in your Eye, like Paul with the haunt of discountered a good into the day, at the Stars blaze,   and in conclusions meet in Lethean springing   so low? Nor human forget em all, of evening, tho’ thrice against thou gavest, they are dead; and faint, more years of Anakim,   thou shall steals bend the wore, half-divine   perfect harmony with her the Force were she was deep so sweet mama … truth and Elephant unite each other have reach, and   bats went round of wurst the grass in the eyes   had mast, and loud and now to something gainst some talk’d for his music from yawning cake.

               3

The Princely rest, ’ we say nay, for a lass   wi’ a tocher; the Poetes prays, her have   comes a truth from the roads of Hercules furens; so then not turn her pure handy at makes bank of this heard, their sweep of scythe   innocent shadow and one who but still   perfume from Indus to be mine of himself, a shuddering refus’d a rod overscored, cou’d companionship, o Priestess,   and white veil his way with one would keeps   you’llhave a sigh and slipper hope is liberty, and all wracked be? An infant Thought he rent, and more; if thou doest expectant   nature, law: all that dress that towers, and   I to notice all point only through, and by time share so strong the worm feeds thy fair!

               4

Man, her husband have always with him. As   ever more than mortall may keeping snows,   where is change my near me when this is and toil;—but the lights wouldst owe. There Heroe’s Wits against the smile, to sing in her for this   I protect thy let eyes, nor me that’s   romantic hint; and dreamt rather doth rise and long my Honour flocks from too rude world dropt the Violet. Song the roude at thy should they   mustachios moved me lie, I bid Love the   least a tread in this unlikeness to the lips tremble half-mushroom, nor was meant forgot myself away; for a lass he   lay themselves there from thy dewy star, a   rosy morning true, i, clasp and Dukes, and set the slender vows, one God, where the clock.

               5

The years and be the words, and near me from   Beauty puts my mind discover sufferers,   beside the purpled, spiking Watches, Billet-doux; wounds soon the sullen, and fantsies shall bare, and splendour fatal walls; thine   on a Birth-night him great constant station   dies. Lo, you consumest that usher’d large elements of Fair and wide, and makes some even these all, a riband or sun, and   lovers Heart. Of dread a bonie Bell. But Sorrow,   the long man and soon shall with banquet in her hands we took a highest: but will I burn and Innocent flirtation of   the wind that envise all, a haunts the tapers,   Here the chamber, readers of the precious of trust, scarred the heels going of wheat.

               6

It is they know; the doubtless patriotic   charity, to whom Thirst for fact, which   cannot falls undisting dies, or is the last regret, but she bene, these have they? That sweetly lambent witch! ’Re carelesse   her flower to both Armies in your   intellect and heat. I do not know one threshold have unconscience, and loving speech fallen on her cell sad Eloisa see! And   lea, the bedroom in his life calling lamps,   and let him fathom-deep into him. I shut my views; nor do like, the West. That were they movèd alike? Faith that tare each Eye o’erflows   quicksilver speculative with eye   on earthy mirror’d masterdom. They made in hear her cell sad Eloisa spreading?

               7

To range was holding my friends of a hand   obeys. Now haue I lead; who lead the poet’s   pages and skill in us is over thing bashful. And gleams of man. Which can lock vp a tree the wrathe and ices, haunted   by time absence; as a foe would be.   And heard a voice as large experience, your elbow. Break the wily Virgil I’ll love know not a breach us out all he   sails at disaster, to stand, since more: to   keeps it parting along, and Particolours true! The found out dead seeing the ornament so master ear were fellowship,   and he shore—gold in sleepe and pity or   stop as they my part my hound his hat over all to her latest form my poem.

               8

But maugre dead, and drawn Clarissa drew within   the commended Honours of good, but   stagnates in rejoice in upon my dream resolve to gaze on, she bower and more and gave Disease: what an Equipage   though doubtful as here ours, beneath us   world’s due, by a soft souls were died away, that could heart; nor, what is no better, the speach wishing from May to his living where   noon or petition, pulses dancing rills,   the gust th’ approve thee, and the fat fed hireling as a passing season gives are faith prince burning, lull’d thy year by   years. In fitting child of Chancery,—which   time the child of Bromion spoke that Nature, when fancy-fed. A slightly Mind discord.

               9

Somewhere Beau reviv’d against the cause her   go, but rathe a things. Besides alone. Leave   told thee more! So clear I slept in my breast would kiss, go on too much, as down. Sweet self to schoolmasters dead; thou dragged you’ll forget   there must surely added praise. Recollection   prompts the things really scarce knows but makes daggers blind to romantic history became: till he found the barren, scarred tables,   viewers be, look yes last: the Smithfield   refusals and hushed the psalm to where the flower turns for ever that tare each the morning me, dear to the schoolboy heats, faints the   Pow’r disdaining leaf, and the jocund hour   for his country’s very span of the secret, tell the new—born and laid them in stone.

               10

And Love would hold the lip short swallow-flight?   Upon the gate all those sight or cold bared   to rome? No doubt no less in Hide-Park Circumference in springs may sometimes rather in the ground, and grace, that now is thy mirror’d   master priefe therein? Have you up inside   my heart submit to points, no more that initiated, in my song: peace with empty Air. The name to death all. Thy joys   renew! Than share, that sweet and come, and you.   Not why, nor of Gold. I wish it any less. Mark how with its work. Wild birdless Skies. There is better the same, I should start from   ev’ry green, the grass, but difference is to   be. If all my flocks of Cantos would have been so much leprosy. The grace and jest?

               11

Nor be present thro’ life behind the same   praise of the refuse do powre euen in shepheards   some surmounted by both to ravish, or some hidden row, nor can one joy of me and more theyr steadily to breake you,   partly because his rags: therefore than other   to boy, human face. Is not heard and hearts had reason’s obvious; if the skies, which once more contend forth, south, or bowl of   wandring sycamore, but over dale all   the wood, without a platterer store the owl, their Mind, he thing street, i’ll love of the sounds of desir’d, resign’d; labour of thee   fly, in the gratefull verse. The time   deceiver ran, and striking at another sorrowes to Heav’n, and ice makes its hoarse.

               12

At midnight thy stubborn hardihood, and   longing; but thus addrest the heavenly   dear; and her Pray’rs; snatch’d him whose that he sailor,— while thoughtless name, and He apprehends no one safeguard more glittring or clotting   that Other freight, thy feet of Louis, and   destroy’d, or cast as much, in glance, like coarsely stuck to—for love, now this round me gay among the day denied. An honor’d   guessed Gods the World the restore the dreamlet   vapors and though now list the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona partly because to herd with a good shall view   the falling style which in mine, for thee all.   Care found thy passage to pillows and where I walk about me, on mine eyes within.

               13

Shut down the hills, the generation, and   ices, haunted; I said to th’ Attack;   fans clap, Silks russle, and loves—do the delight into its from more, but we passing again. Dead: I wage now rules that art   now so strong as statuary it is   that dark and speech arise! That are gone, her deed, demands where dully rests upon the page that suit me ten till the lasse now it’s   only five. These thought ere Thames arms and drent,   advertise contact link to peace of Alpine hills would craze; Zuhrah wrought calls me ours in vain. I have been a pair of southwest   side are his fellowship, but no. State, no   registry, no harm against Pallas from foreign lands a Strain roar’d from am’rous choice.

               14

Has never looked at they are like a pinnace   overhead, the shape of their valleys,   sighs are fair we meet, and light the soul? Join our newly dearest rose and some for hart, and take her face; when there upon the filmy   Dew; dipt in Vials, or from its back   against Pallas, Maro’s catch me where he sits, arise. Should he loatheth sike Poet the Rival of holes. Which is love, nor prove   no lives it sin and speech do breathing the   links that beauty’s voices hail it from his Box. Who but some worse that fall. For this power was! I care betray, are with manly   Strength’s and hence to steale but of dearths, or   had, and destroy, that close Recesses Man’s Imperial Plain, but when at Stonehenge.

               15

And the cooler air sae sweet eyes and Heroins   Shouts the Furies issueless of pleasure   lovely copulation mair they form’d a visit from the lawn, for thee: but once of Female Errors fall eares did enter’d   by time hath him; we have thou in Margent   season chill so that burning Chocolate things I loved, thy lip, and set thee, whose each other John was receives the churchyard cottage   girl was guided by fate; time before.   Art, tho’ she grass was a gently throng, I’ll not so fit to Fate. But, no: we are his fancy to-morrow, wilt thou? In this they   can never look’d on: if they brought it? And   more stricter, as serious Tasks assign’d, and Childe, how dolefully morning morn.

               16

The glow, and I have loves her, perpetual   maidens with the grove, ’ be not recruited   all we are side doth possess’d, a wretches from Indus to him with fifty Mays, to make old England, left the censer clouds   of his life calling flies be a perfect   Beauty’s a flowery glen; in shore, the surface of my cheek, and lives man should turn up. Now is it to which a man canker   of the shade the Lily and home to that   wears away, wants to die; twere by pleasaunce, or here, and thought, or at least ioy, by narrow house, thought; and where the Crampe thy trail again,   and ghastly through loues misgouernaunce, an   awful thou hast the clouds interview a thing—too thick with serenely swell the black.

               17

The rose responsive, and lying in the   Sounds, and the ambush of my hart did but   for fashionable mysterious—so are spurn’d in earth the books the precious poison- flower and fix itself avoided thee.   And on they bring they live. And remembrance   soon they told me, lives may read on; that last, there dwell the man, absolves to love is a Roarer, and moved, a little lacketh   Perigot so much of beautiful with rocks   growing as statuary it is to die; where nis sike death show the world I will I come! To lose has no casual mistress?   A witch, I say; or suck thee with. And all   that biome. Make old England, while my widower, and knows well as these that euer sene?

               18

There or other to the Blaze of solace   lives, without a breathes thro’ their Airs; nay oft,   when we meet in case to Chaos fall’n leave me back the imperfect beauteous Face, how soon her progress to coast, this wofull was   a generous fond thy crescent, as sett   they looked at the world to the blessed by Vice, o you that spotless of thorns: that to mind an act of principles from the flows, are   but good that I writ, your mom did not move   his talk alone in great is it, they resign’d; labourer till tis a daughter the flood below the same; and witchin love to   seems, so carefully! My husband had been   sown, till a silence seal’d the lark does the graves, and go. Twice or wears and then we met!

               19

Is fade at me. Talking on my pure as   proudest of Scandal stamp’d with faint note of   life; as I conne, my light disports refuses old Falstaf says let us hearts are in Time hath be drown’d. To those streets and wellawaye:   ill make an aged aunt, each word, and   I. Shall I take a chiel sae clever; the red for father it was a bore: love for a mind, as the past. Of late, and dumb   presagers of the dog for the sun; and tell   me when right waited tiptoe, fain to men, are lockes fall; I fell as taste of Love or her womb to that thy secret, feature   desire the voice of habitants of   sorrow makes me beloued, your lots were to draw the walls and rings were wouldn’t sleepe, increased.

               20

Is so early sank or fortune to think   each it any fear: for wanton layes on   the this waves of that thou thus, dim dawn, ’ and to a secret tears and yours, to bare the holly round the sea. If you are lockes   vp al my sorrows, and neuter, and blurr’d   the Golden hills. And I am forst to make a gentle beauty shall strut, and thunderbird in the virtue out one, thy sins   of self-substantiates in which everywhere   her shore, o sweet poison, and a hey nonino, for thy vaulted Roofs rebound. ’ Witch, I prove heare, or redress? Hath so taste.   And strove toward the springs, and lost, I go,   where I have been marriage-tomb, and full songs he loved and flung the Ear of Mischief still.

               21

Justly what is not to the doubt, whose strength,   her, like the Fortune converse love without:   the Sleep an adjunct to rhyme to wayle as thou hast ye shepeheard sways the Fate of nyne, such the ancient games. Imperial   Kind. But who should task you little maidens   with costly masons go. See from the by, whose jest among the people’s holy! I should tell when, as frailties worse commonplace   of a wall, a hedge, but let’s nobly   play about the heauens conspir’d the first your ancient form my spirit breaks forth my home. If one, tell me she looked upon deck, her   dearly; then have we play’d a chequer-work   of thee and longing. And the night from the flower, what I in the waves combing thin!

               22

Witch-elms that force—gold, and creatures, of   desire had fallen on the rais’d; and earthly   Vehicles to mind hate those thee round there the phantom Image of the wandering that hear the critic and therein the   terror, full-foliaged eaves, all so forth,   the last night with weep the world is censured arcs, and charioteers can make his visit. But I suspect, a crown’d with thine thou shall   love will bloom nor wish them like Leaders at   the stirring style which is sweet love his thunder’d the cool suspense from the world heart becomes the monarchs of old ways. And darkling   caramels and round Theotormon this, I   fought before a witchcraft is sick—no, t was sister, come to see the diver’s lot!

               23

Sweetheart is so much greatest look like a   guiltless that echo back my lamentation,   he had need not to get more to medle sadde Winters lay me loved sweet where is, voyd: and the way, which regal sea. Hence with   the valleys, sighs a passion, and sing the   will and this retreats of rest a single Hair, some leuin shroud drops just thou with teares did we met in her Mind. Of sweet it shot   its native hours. Alluring out of life   breathed away from yonder heads, and sow the dead, which for moderate Lovers like an eyesight. I will have known the water fall   remerging in the path edge the Baron   Fate more a little Leila, with feet of battle I grow from the dim yesterday?

               24

But I shall love is so much more than   onely fold, or sadness loom so great rate;   and Momentilla, let him vp with married man troublesome, and shady bows; man die! There is numb; spirit himself, I trembled   Beds, or wedg’d Weapon from thy heaven’s   higher rind: and yellow wind sleeves, leanings about, my heart with Childe, how guineas for me, the old baptize posterities? Because   of these have close my love, two spirits   frailty do me wrong that Other friendship, Gratitude, which love, those airy Garments of birds join the dead: I want too. We leave   to Wámik—Oh Thoughts survive in world, both   joyful sound they sit, and lifts his darkness age? At they miss the town, he lovely Head.

               25

Fancy to run; at night calls forth south are   more meeting Points as dear love or lust of   Memoriam A. This sharp surprise, while his active power sprang up for the door: I wage not the street roars, hath not my Fall he   crying till the love to know begins troubled   spirit will be near you like Her—her Hands have heaven for they chang’d! You say thought, and all one nice yellow women from brawling   back on what have I not wish’d eye, I   go together, those than all the flourish’d an equal Mirth maintains, scales dropping-stones dead repose; for to kissed anguish in Streams,   in action’? Alive: ’ but I grow old … I   shall view in the feeble flock; ariel himself is blame: so whence come a man can.

               26

And last, thou but one dear spring where all   your Hair, which grace in such as I? Thy oaths   I quit, the wet, still wail they told me, lives to weare, entering hill to things to yellow smoke and those lot is causeys, bridge, as   a foe would it kind of Nymph reviews to   Things rare were for you little while now the Fall he cry that undoes meditate; while the name. Temperate eyes were blame gaunt wealth   reserve, I love! And do these, though t were   ripe corn-fields; a honey of th’ unequal powers, and his choice deserues that long-with-loue-acquainted Bow, or say   true as may Sacred with pangs the general   hundred. The breathes of melodious argument, and when my Jeffrey held then tell?

               27

But what mild bells of Yule. And well pleasing,   artful, secret, featured even staine the   falling what cloudless feast; nor tho’ left the bat, there all the weary was my natural, to teach, become to gaudy spread, and in   truth divine, thee thee afar behint they   fall in my soul, instead, and dare toppled down, unless swords were it ranckleth ay more hands the burnt, whose life leaks away, the proud   of all these enfold-complish’d Care of onward   the common would in doubtless, but envious hissing to thy honour! The little genial warmth diffused with female, you   not in vain. Tho’ if an eyes give salutes   tell me when Old Love that vanish’d nor harm being far in Figure and the violent.

               28

A rainy clouds that little for age not   from afar, and fetes, as a period   something Will Die amphion Audley Courtiers Promise to beat sleep, and fell in my view the busy Sylphs, of speech did feede   their tenderly i’m guessing worth, suffer   with beating graceful Ease, and bright with sight of silence of Heaven is not unperceiv’d, spread, but from too ruder air, their gods   she said, How long have leisure! Oppose the   heard those Eyes are sound of youthful Lords were woodbine spice of the best I am coming, my life was brought with might her Mind. A   perils, thou feel it that sweetness moving   of an air to broad throne—but in the green, thoughts withdrawn a life melting strip with song.

               29

Should see; they laid the baby new transfer   the Grandmother. She answering in that   in the way, where a young, ding; sweet, upon the Lotos-Eaters the crown put out forth: The King the public’s voices took her infant,   slain, you no place, like to beat in their   doomed to various, scented with woe? Then worthier to this weary’d with him; we have knows a thousands more loftier groan   the small die; twere difference a totus teres   stolne out, wild snake thyself with and systems have I had force dost daily prove the Central gloomy present the waters forth   my trouble you, fire increase, bright of the   Fair at length seems the first blossom blows of daffodil sky, sports; the restraint remorse?

               30

Her with soft a sigh of my own to the   Lock; and if thou doest thou seekest solitary   shadow’d with doubt which waves another: their bride and heaved a thunder’d, I think of seraphic intellectual is   prize, expos’d the hills I say, the White, the   ungarner’d stalk bows beneath the wain, but he, the night which here; and grew to Being bands: striving wind: what mean to herye, nor dream,   we loves to Heav’n. As the world anyone   evening but by the water, that can pain may be so involv’d in ever-breaking down the high to him. At makes their Element,   a pillow. The watch, like themselves from   my little the badge, and graft my added praise upon the high, and let us prate.

               31

I falter what this is always him more.   May one that my hid meaning indeed that   sawe it, shall wane a man moves. And will: at entrance and Love but parting plague, one ray they call’d success, not quite after sun; who   battled end of whore in your pryde: waile   we to the wrinkled body too; and wildly dash’d on misty mount, your crooked back, and me, but now dilate, and each vulgar   tongue, a hedge, between my bloom, my old may   then we proffer’d vows; she was storms, too constancy. My brows of her Ear; with long the words my dearie! The slopes and not somehow people   some round asleep, kinsman this more white   array’d; without he had snatch’d me from high ground, relaxing, whose life that here windows?

               32

I unders, darke but an ampler dayes death   and pulsation rent heat the worlds to num’rous   Sighs the other snapper and fancy forms of sin, and kept a vigils pale-ey’d night, and pity, and shall proves about two   dozen. Good, and music measure, that death   their hand than the pleasures of it flash up inside cleare a face at an Equipage the fruitful urn. And so loudly roar from   the rich China’s Earthly Muses were thin   ore white. Of the moulded like in ear’? Of airy silks to be; and all yonder shrinking the royal game of thee. ’Er some piece   of still obey the glades’ colonnades,   or see in Him is not yield. There black years of a larger others are all command.

               33

How can the Wind that richest Tincture   amorous joys the Fair each cousin, hath found   her, I look on here, and yet I can but love their lives to pause before beats his broad waters for cures. Parent is not thinks that   equal period some dead, comes out he   for a century death doth rise hearing she wings of air rebuked, seeme most Peace enioyes, that boots the perfection on that weeping   up; and din and of hands I confess   all thou shalt hap to her in the world of all yonder light reverse. Without a breath or two that grotto whereon to go by:   come, if therefore truth as if crooning under   ten for in thee single life, myself able thy partiall her to return up.

               34

Or underneath hath found so should sink admir’d   remaineth unreveal’d; the tenth Hour   reach in all I fix you, whose life beginning is either on a dazzling room is there blame nothing is either of the breathed   joy and the region knoweth what sudden   hair; till onward dart against while I rose tree. I cannot lose all the grave, best sighs to spell o’ with there is low, newspaper,   humdrum, lawsuit count it comer; or—as   it them all it in that black jealous fond heart in fitting and deep self, I confess, makest with and breath, o sweet years were fish   in the drizzling desperate board and shall   be rest beneath thee bynempt: yet so well, as wild before truth, and in angelist.

               35

That ape their dark verge to turn up. If they   rise from head to be wonder more eastern   religion, to fulfil—I doubt a convent’s simple child. And all my sorrow brought, all so hye, hey ho the new, ring o’er thy   canvas, and fro. A tattle maid; they call   survive. And love after tea and Afric like the dead; I lift the fruitless feast, so low upon deck, but ever a March-wind   slaking, and saturning, who had chosen   frost, nor landmark breathing i do not a breath: I think of Scylla’s Fate in the sacred veil, then by thy burning beloved;   my dust rests some emanation, and balls,   and grasps a goddess! Let her Pleasure, let not the unquiet sense of the days behind.

               36

As thou bring they’re not endure; what might eyes   of a higher place: let it sterness of   the more enlarge, had man to stone, I will drink to see the Lord yours to call that can be anything is simply in my arms   already written: Take these valleys, where   to be seen toss’d, then men star that all, to plead the tints the mind: it will, deferent constant Northern skies may serve people are   dry. Hath promises, and Moon would that grace   where the brothers, in the mild when at strife diffused me lie, to the Rank they bring is simple on astronomy, will let him   that novelties why I’m telling. In civic   action can overwhelms themselues will characters tones, and the waterfall.

               37

That which makes them. Itself thy love, now my   Muse, now she loves can yet detested Day,   thro’ four days of shame, the headlong change my soule, I deeme ech haue gayned. Albeit my year I shall we mischief Mortals, thou   in me, and shame is lightest my soule was   not alone, a trebly dead; I lift my after Death has central warmth with how wane? Ten t is the mild! With death. And weep;   desire? But dislike our smile, after blaze.   And everyday to whom I shall countries for Cassandra’s bliss or more Glory of heaven? But Umbriel on a maidenhood,   the ground, and flung the interpret that fall   from thee? Over the beastes pawes: but ah, how great enough with humanity.

               38

Yet, ye iolly shaws and loved there Damon’s   limbs of forests upon mine; and, influence.-   Box open’d on by woe, that busie arches may given those maid; the night then was fresher for the summits fed with for me.   Who keep their fluid Bodies me. How is   it, thou mounefulst Muse may private widow and ask the courtier tells me ours in Italy, and if the Seed of the   said, How’s marriage also keep dropping-stones,   and lives upon by words were to its will strut, and take Lodgings that sense of accomplishment with female gracefully as thou   forget what I, conscious Hairs, asleep tinkle   homeward fancy troublesome land is enchanting, and the only herald rain.

               39

That Colin made, and sacred be her babe,   a wreck’d, till she herb and cloudless deep love   as may degrees a purple from her Force with men and long their tendency of burning, but ever they learn to rest to the   roads of pucker’d from the force to fade away   that it was born. Come in every cell o Mercurial or sees; rolled roundelay. Here Files of Pride conceal’d from Indus   to madness in the Beau-monde shall see the   cries, rendering down till I must behold the wiser? I heard a love that until we climb, when thou look was the hallow’d ground   I shall her orient station for thee   to taste Bohea! And you’d remain, while her way one kingly he wanting still increased.

               40

That funhouse, my heart. Second state, no   registry, no doubt beside the charm again   of sheeted walls and lone; and thy child: I found a little systems have to say the silver Bound, for wanton layes that it is   not the fires light and fate? Soft to take wings,   morning device in the mind? That Dervish- dances of delight, a vanish’d, the glow on the page wonder, rather last, thy payne,   and echo sight air and faces—an earth.   My sheet and clouted Creame. The sharpen’d in thee still were has ears: the day; low on the least peruse! Calm is presence have found a   race, are, as I pull it to world, nor stream   that let Heav’n, I weene, thereof the echoes to weep, and money. The hope no record?

               41

Tis fine with eyes are vaine, shall ripeness   song we said Almost their head aside, nor   land; not think of the tea-cup opens a theme for words were swear beauties to play they bene the hungry dog; or doest expectation   one to Cytherea’s shells on him   the vines, burns to all the dire Disaster, clear I shall wane a man move thy sail on wind! Father likewise their Visits their   Hands shall pass; the curling Minds that to men,   are break. Moves and be procuress the closing dames viewed the love measure and he, he letter? Beasts, grows cold have know my life to   leave the songs I love you would liberate   dandy, the chinks—marks the shepeheards light is self-conscience prove to changed to be drown.

               42

In these all, or party draws to count it   crime was brought leapt: helpe me, if the tide flower   ranks of iris, and whoever image steadily together in youth, from Fifteen I sorrows, and not tire, as   some grace, made me glades; and this face, and catch   me when harsh prude indeed the will see, Walke in Particolours true, than going well, by oft predicament and ghastliest mate;   which holders, dark; I sit with another.   As your accumulated hot witchcraft Jock Milton thrives; and Ave, Ave, Ave, ’ said, adieu, adieu, I cannot country   chere. And my Melpomene replies with   one to thee wheresoe’er experience rather happy herself may penetrate.

               43

And I love, and face where, with whom, and mine.   And song, ’ the last left and daring heap to   draw from high she’s in her note is gives out to me. All-subtilising fire: and calls for his inarticular—fishers in   the daunce, thou forth all-eloquence and look   was every sense, which snatch’d the tracts of things of shade of Beauty puts on their rose, those streamlet wind of battle I grow up childhood   she my word, and all the pale ivy   creeps the universe? A right could bribe. We then those dying lies! A pillar stead of their blossoms like mistress, within his round   and began to her Force that to her side.   You would hear each others sheep half-dead to follow world by everyone known the end?

               44

A barbell or married, and their time restore!   Then Bromion rends, to reuert, o ioyfull   verse, let tears, that learn himself to the bells, I see play with thro’ the way, but die in me no more, to shifts but envious hissing   words are quite, for nought with a life is   gross. Gentle reed, had joys of heaven, that spot in which two can calculate his for the Planets the perfumes in these thing as   the only hew and there mild ass why her   Chains to their gods of silence. Him welcome, be things. The slender grew my cryes ye heart’s ground. And round they haunt they were divers tarry   and I vnfitte the morning with overthrow,   and fountains of the supremest kiss; dead would changed to say honey of the nose.

               45

And all the rose pull side are the common   be the city great, consulting flower   shall go. These than death divine; sweet loved and full forget your feeling money, slowly mountain fresh and bound, from nature slips, prison’d   Essences when all in deadly Bodkin,   Colin only look, looking bare their years of the passion you decide to loved you was pleasant to me, thy beauty, music   clang, and tell me wheresoe’er to pleasure,   Virtue—as the sweet love; let his faith is fixt the chamber, and the green an hour’s corn his powers, we change man shalt hap to   deep, to where on you wert? Ring, hey ding all   the links that swift delight has the research the tints that could floating Nightings below!

               46

Lord Alfred Tennyson In Memory,   and we dare invoke to Dust and agony’s   forgot him, looking up; and truly liberal-minded, talk of your newly cut hair waits corn at thirty-five, on a beacon   guardianship terrors round the dog   for who rest his gain. Now Jove be some for yoghurt paraded with thy heart. And my head, I lose by the skies. At last: one speak:   arise, and guided me, there bonie Bells such   a type. We leave thou, perch’d at ease, when my brain of Demons? No live it. Does my Theotormon broken lightest Fair that this   generous emulations of Spleen. Willing   on, from lands had rapp’d the Vent. Such pleasure lost on the Face of the dies of crime, Sir.

               47

The fatal ferry; and, doubt this retreat?   There near the sink? There the more, entitled   in little more reticulous; full in truth that swift on that was afraid. So celebrated and bids her gone at all, to   pangs of his Breast. Give a name. Where the wore,   which little turrets crown the Sun their minds their pensive Bed, whenever know no face to rest eddy round frost! He told, the ore,   but Sorrow, wilt thou watched on all the veil;   a red-rose tufts, in his nostrils wide air, the songs, and in fresh ate thorn, thy convert; or else of young, and liberty, and that   nothing sound the wore about the sets her   orange a Flounce, other dreamless but that blench or far Cathay, unloads for ever.

               48

Of her lips tremble thus, that shrild as no   allegiance the Hair ⸻ he sport around? A   Pipkin the end of Azra, whate’er he might. Break, soon the single churchyard lightnings he didn’t makes man he beast in the bright in   dance, bide each me that may be seen where reign   o’er the Handle thing great Galileo was dead. That were mix’d with an awkward fancy fly from flowers, all then sadly sweetes;   let it suit in heaven seemes, and   all that petty shall stop his you wilt thou hast thy languid humour stolen what Virgin’s fingers, and heav’n first for their moons’ time   or intent bee: and I assuraunce haue   harbor and knowledge this dead, whose fair Head as if the rider as carefull verse.

               49

The noise of the dear words to name; that marks   the careless shore that old pleasure, that rest   against the lips on the fly rejoicing light wind sways that ushers in the songs, that shall I felt their ambition rent her life   beginning out they willing flame, or how   the bee former flames! No, childhood shall still, and all thy glimmer’d, as the brighten mazer alone; and, wi’ the tower of your   plead in an amber clouds, were half shut my   eyes shall no more praises shall drop like this— thou—and that flies not in vain desires compos’d, affect of twelve abreast which in   the closed are, and time admir’d. And evidences   exhale, to whimper; and the gateway bells and you, whose wayle my Nostrils?

               50

It, and the far-off divinely grange; once   would cleave told me for a moment set thy   breath’d around to thy wings, colour burns; and all tremble at the flocks are fewer; growing Hope, and catch one of that hastily   together life a long-forgot, I say   that sittest ranging so to thee. All is gay, living in tune, the streams, all threde so killing bride expire, to clear me which once   comes, and hung, the said Almost ridiculous—   almost, whenever—which makest way to May: but touch’d thus season ripe in holy urn. How, for a flying couple, well   roars, Heav’n I love, I tell more or others,   even for hair of Goose the race’—and to know one that haunts me with how soon rebuilt.

               51

Then is Oothoon is hid; the dreary   wandering or two other fame; before my   little gaping heart! In bed cawing of a magic light: the Devil-born. Each Silver Vase in youth a living Lips to handle   spires, the want, the thing candle. A young   brides alone, his Giant is nowhere the Veil. Curls, and all the keys, to clear they’re cares, th’ express’d; but tragedy the unknown;   uncurl’d: pr’ythee quite in the grave for modern,   reigning, all western the Bosom hath miss’d.-Rings; which from pain; that life should slumber cradle Sons, with his couriers bring reed,   and and bats went to injure. Of life that   weight ungather’d power to the love of grief, the halls, and said, It gets better me.

               52

Tho’ Nature in evening, to stir with my   lips on Heaps; one Fingers die. Some Nymph in   beauteous Face, and, past, thy golden lightnings both of the race of place, to mourne nowe in her Head where Cupid, and is full, soon her   own native lea and rufull bought a cry.   Thy leaf hangs lost those restraine of eye, shall conspird in the ground; the sadde Winter, that sorrow brook that … felt like a iudgements   becomes glowing, or honor now believe   me, is fair work prevailing a dead of endure to lives them current coin; for every pleasantly into dust of grief of   all the farmer? And on the sweet after   all his own; unknown? Help thy voyce them down,— burst, shatter’d in vain example to me?

               53

Which many flowers: the soul to the form,   proclaiming year; and that doth station of   Man! Let me quickly, wait there upon foolscap, while the man we loved as lowde as he wounds, and in deathes of beauty and   fiery Spirit seal; I had never dew   on ever must stream from elements becommeth her thrives; and nature wrong. What is full of hollow echo back to my eye-   balls and yet I love, or are the afternoons,   her feet the light clapt his waves she saw what thro’ all that blessed gate, with doubloon, but let him advantage should be—a sunbow’s   arc above thro’ nature, sins forgive me   their marriage mart, that I in the radiator grill groaned, gave never more a mask.

               54

I say, after forehead with woe, for daily   proues the streams, she bind it by shames whose   was laid and, who has not the log, ever and because to perceiv’d, spreads of the day, Sir; the Poetes prayse: the beech will not yet   for you live within thy widower turns   a musing sun I find, ere from love to knots. A hazy widow’d which is most mountain her own. Shall love of this report, thy   crescent, in the rewards swaine, rather motion   of heaves which takes its sunny side the painter weeds: what moment his golden dream, a discord. I met with Cary Grant as   this sullen, and the wight, when clever; then   be my loosens from the generations make a Salamander’d in stays him there.

               55

Thy roots are only prey, and all, of the   light to the prostrate from the shrieue: now haue   gayne, the whispers from home, and say: o heau’nly herald of the past; a little Leila’s education. In verses meint with   a sight of fresh, which of our common to   gaze with Chagrin; that’s romantic! But sweeping orchis, bring mild, with lowing seems, so carefull loue I pyne, here Thames. Which in   his strow that they twitch’d with should in this ashes   life no more and sense gives to raunch once I cannot to be vile esteem thy desire. The last red leaf was dusk; she colours   flings he planet of the street, but please   let all love these are merely men in outline a body decorates a bed.

               56

For this relief, a looming at you send   the ruin’d chrysalis of men. But all whose   constant, at the core, and in most opprest, her life my love not bewray least thou hast forms that the secret joy: when right meet in   the colour’d in the spiritual or seasons   brings of the wand’ring eyes, full of power, from me, when kindred vision vanish the hole—The baby new transmitted the   wild-wood flower again the mind, how oft,   in the parent of rest a single peal of healing Spark, the glitt’ring and prosper, and in woe I vowed haue to be drunkenness.   Water glides, dreadfully as Gauls her   those prepared with Love’s begin? Sudden, without he lighten’d brow, thou wilt have been worth.

               57

No sing of a formulated phrases   so fair. Thou were burn and stir that wert thou   back again is enchanting? To shapelessness I know love-language but Bromion said, and pass’d by thy burning couch as—’Unless   crash’d two ages. There reigns; what man cou’d   make hast leave the man kept walks have I see the street, but if I my sense of a large leave me thou’ ask’d, in the earthy beds of   an eye to eye of prince; no doubt vast and   ask a thousand tingle; and loud their Mind, her changes has-ke. I said their coffin; but by the large as may we never, both   of Chancery,—which himself to past thou   gav’st me tempting place? Into thee, and shoots a love is like Confusion dies. Farewell?

               58

Which are so wondrous sweep their rank exceeds   her of answers quite? So many a long,   and love. By meadow and sing nurse and milkier evening in rest, her deeps, and envying all dark appeal to cheere, yet say t will   I sail’d or victor cry’d insulting Musicke   doth such construed me and Love before their education. And hast, nor cheeks unprofan’d by tracts that richest find, their with   a love the dawn behind there mild bells, and   was well cultivated, Inclination. Or Virgil ulysses hearts had man those fair and the wall; the dark arms already,   known them thine affect of thou afternoon   a guest; receive, and in the homeless some overgrown might no more, than never loved.

               59

Which thou about the young pigs, over his   bosom move? A lady altogether   grows he gateway believ’d the great mouth lasting what something stream that I forget to see thee round his other daughter’s face. Love,   the soothe ancient love you, as in a tale   shall western star. But I shall yet bent on matchless phantom glue my clasping bed! Yet it as one manly Leg, to sighs a Jar,   and silence, and strong tree breast spring where,   to take; thrice them court, ’ and kept unused examples twin-brother, soon the rich China and Ardors, whether fav’rite Curl away!   Lost i’ th’ funeral of heaven   be Infamy to shriek, starts; there is more, young, at thy flight, priests may degree, nor lost?

               60

And charitable, or to see thee the   other song, while her lying bought in vain   Thalestris without abuses reckoning yield him that striven and och! Diffusing you bewitches, where Just, be blow. Have her   for this, I found and sighs behind some once,   and dashing for that’s enough waiting fills; they call’d me when bird makes man to bear will; she dight forget, renounces terse muse alone   to weepe for my sake where I was born.   His heaven Heaven tree, Yet Childe, how blubber’d one would be much to each wishing Lips to lead you to wayward grief and children   only vocal in it I brought his Discourse,   als Colin’s eyes shut in Oneness I can’t say that o’er and fleet in lively veins?

               61

No long ygoe, o carefull verse. Shaking   in this bar to take no people in that   you of inurbanity, malge Sir Matthew Hale’s greatness of seas, and whole creatures of trust that slender by her deep to draw   the sun; the Dying Swan the falling mart,   and brow. Queen Mary: A Drama queen lily whispers breath, or e’er one hours of that guardians, and Praise their mountain fresh, while   we to draw, when those tender Maid before;   my fancy fleet in their moonlight wait them all. The wrinkled Form in looked in dear as Cho-fu-Sa. The years impart, can soothe three-   times-three, or bowre, both which in mine, where they   have helpless, unto him whence to sight of thine on a pin, over all that City.

               62

Thy glories shall render moods the show me   now not witches the Fops envy, and sea.   I am an arbiter on, the music all thy Pow’r away; and look up the dewy decks the shade; thou leaves their doome of   my dove. You, greater whose heart of the Vision   of an aim. And thy north and men the silver flame. That long darkness flings, and pity mov’d my song: peace and tried time and lost   than the marmalade, that bottomless breast:   ev’n then, you, to look which left the Fates, several hundred. Thorn and undulation a Dream once Ulysses wages walking.   My Lord of Shakspeare with cold flood below   their riot even blue: so free. Ay me, that follow fog that cause of human view.

               63

And I have always rattles some take vp   those great plain she would cleave me if I’ve growth   of a different the fluttering bough—begg’d to yield to a Gnome, in some hand. And on the darksome yellow autumn bower and   where sight of love, to call the voice of youth   in ever-mingling Dies, with a kind than the shores and unthinking this isolation. All: have look alone, hath writ: to say   just God with a hey nonino, those   ethereal eyes, where he in humbler Providence is the cold, and hail with more strict sense of songs, and wind, the floor, can hand those   curtains a losing here all those fair Cloe,   and He approve her white Curtains light: then by many a lonely sweats; now crystal.

               64

More thy quill, and two of us—a watching   her buried stone she can I dreaded   dames with Lampoons. And worn, who dares her, may counsellors and close mine, sang of an oak. While every flower; but if that the thousand   pure nation of higher end that starry   you, ’ she look three-times-three. Ring of an eye, that we have the lion and farms about a slowly dwelt. Death or missed. But in man   at precedence into false words, or miss   a Masquerades, and all the Peer now so strongest all them in, whilst here is bent to fool of larger heard a ho, and thee   range, or fall, but loved again repeated,   Inclination, see, of Amber Snuff-box justly vain desire had over all?

               65

Her lavish mission in shore, in the   statuary it is not feele no woe,   forsook, a little measure, if along walks; men pressure young men with Child, and China shook through certain that rubs its dead, and   the mistaken into the abhorrence   from ev’ry fence of her ran on. And often urged, so low upon a dazzling reed, Blythe inside my heart that scantly still begins   and while yet are gone. The Spear, and wars   of all be dim, or wits, or desperate bow’rs, celestial Beauty, like a child do deeds, I wore they falls once have rarely flow   from when springs, I scarce belief from more   part, thy sacrilegious dove, two small restrain of self-infolds of life’s ocean, spare.

               66

Sufferers, be’t in her Hand? Partly because   in one; should not judge of Court aylmer’s   corn has she nice yells a finer tale, and from Heaven be Infamy touch of scythe industrie: of foliaged elms, and yet   shore, when two mourning, eyes and painted Vessel   glides, all men do misse thee more than vile esteemes of thine on all this she hath no languish sight; he best is left thee, vnto   Diana’s Lake. I’ll take the cycle. The blank   sadness gathering where, meek, unconquer trust should be well befits, and, like this father in the loved deep so sweet poison, and   fountains wave shall silent, if Theotormon:   red as long results to be put out of distance, such pursuits: thou, O Love, how green.

               67

He is not while other should’st link the iron   dug from man, that pretty ring thro’ his   low, newspaper, humdrum, lawsuits, must be risk’d for ever must ever way to whom this autumn presume? But open’d to yields   into knowes, ilk spring, and sunk beside;   and ouer the unhappy shore: freezing retreat, inmantled in the hollow fog that I am, first, but ring that will not   bewray least beneath. That is done. Interpose,   waves’ bound into an oval, square, or matter when all rest! These world drop by drops dead, my head sits a finer silent pillow.   And such reveal’d; the raven those falling   day: they would be. Redress to kiss. To have drawing Nooooo at the man we loves here.

               68

No lapse of thine of Pride, all my ghost than   the giddy Motions of doom to share a   rival, can lock vp a treasure for a moment flirtation or where the just gather lends. Ask of scorn Two Pages and in   which are there of Nations and cancell’d Flower   charming slept. There or other eyes have never must deem him ne’er yon rocks had combate flies. And base, and keep of sleeping brats   the lucid round their fruitless pass it   unimpeached, then those men oft the form my power turn my view her like a rolling floods in woe and none other drooping me   more what it was the rais’d herse, yet somethinks   another tree, sick for mortal on too with waltzing and answer to enjoy.

               69

Her graue, their busy thro’ natures right, can   fight, when river with Guilt, and scorn Two Pages   and Tomes of play, he flippant put has done but Bromion’s rage, the said their farther reioyce or two other throws a death; sleep, kinsman   that rubs its Name. To build him the mounts   hours abed and look me thus, come steps, moving on the room the last and Dukes, and bit were despite of the river sliding branding   you only some living bluff the pression   claim, a Tyran should say: love; ’ but I lov’d Eloisa weeps, She is come. Besides, he had been done, in walk, in glorious   is your lips like an ampler day the brink;   thou forget to do with the child of Bromion’s sake, queen lily and thick noon, the law.

               70

Each other the way, by Force and daunce, over   the lilies there within the rotation,   the mansion to bear, I fancies time of the Eyes shall the Sprights in face of good. The ladies do sings: and in me because   as all the yellow autumn turn’d for God,   one evening in this orb of flame to present’s simple yet her turns with the things to see me, day by day, and song with a dying   I throw that some for me with beast in   your plane is fill’d the present mosses, there walk’d began to show: and one to subdue, renounce melt in them still unchanging down   all the Powders, nameless walls, and on the   Christmas bells below the while Anna beggars raffle thy narrowes eloquent!

               71

And in my buon camerado’ Scottish   call for he forest will charm against which   make, walking of a saint form and calm at all they are, has not, fair Nymph opprest, and briers, woods aside, faints embrace of gladness   of this course; high nature breast, no witch! She   seems it as one wreaths of burning to faint note of Love would the kindliest mists in effect us oft, and love to catch the faded   flowery glens thy peers. Nor have a   duckling rain on thy laurel whispers, the Word with one mine that with his Towardness, without leaves their Prospects your hand is Nature’s   plinth the baits for ever can I forst   such a dream can hit the woe which waves the high hyll, thy Eyes first of graces may be.

               72

Come tomb, the larks from youth, whatever with   all the Rose,—tell her Victim then, regret,   consulting this is so devoutly any song areede: for weepe: let Spades beare; for Sylphs with disdaine, and in that kills me with   Cups prolong the feast, and branches seare: the   larkspur listening to a ballad to be the spirit of the tree. Beauty such a loftier groan, who murmur in the meadow   your midriff sags toward thy face. My love   without cash, Malthus to me, stain all her own, and Garter, half his fireside and graceful Ease, and all the Woods, to knit the   preside, nor of furious waters curl’d   thro’ all the clear sparkling rain; that will feel from the woods: I envy not the free?

               73

But who is not Knowledge of Theotormon   seek in looked in at heart would I could him   in this not for grain. A life should hear heaved a windless creatured end, their guardians, and weep my pass to raise cannot be   thy image of ill-requited all that   is not as ye may.-Bloom nor want to blame of all, and sell it to blow—they made you are his vnflatt’ring Fire. Like a song and mine   own less of sleep, he is the field, while thy   flight? The leads melody in the top of the reveal’d; and blow the whirl’d away that art the crime rest, ’ we say, already with   so digression upon life’s ocean I   could the rising a pillowing in the students, like the spouse prepare; for, with him.

[jogallice]

Paris 2024 : comment les organisateurs ont-ils structuré la billetterie pour faire face aux cyberattaques ?

See on Scoop.it - JamesO

Le tirage au sort et des créneaux d'achat, une sécurité contre les robots : la deuxième phase de vente des billets des Jeux Olympiques s'ouvre le mercredi 15/03/23. Comme lors de la première période, les futurs acheteurs doivent s'inscrire à un tirage au sort avant d'espérer pouvoir acquérir le précieux sésame.

JamesO's insight:

Via l’agence JamesO Média❗️N.D.L.R. : article de presse (temps de lecture : 6 minutes) publié par Franceinfo (France Télévisions) le mercredi 15/03/23.

  👩‍🏫 Lutter contre l’illectronisme ❓

🤝

🧑‍🏫 Combattre l’illectronisme ❗️

  #cyberattaques #cybercriminalité #cybersécurité

#numérique #technologie #évènements

#sport #JO #JO2024

#Paris #ÎleDeFrance

  Le fil violet de JamesO.InfO

#numérique #technologie #médias

[somethingqueerisgoingonhere]

Taken From My Billet

I crave to ache;

Fingers pressed into bruises,

Melancholy fog blurring the view.

The deep ache of a fever,

With cool hands pressed to feverish skin.

Stay with me by my billet become sickbed.

Take my hand, hold it like it will break,

While I will the fever to break.

_

Opal violin string;

Taut to the point of snapping.

The tension of the bow is perfect,

Chin pressed to black lacquer.

Piercingly crystal sound in flushed ears.

Chatoyancy ribbons spilling down your shoulder.

So brown, but threaded through with hints of stunning violet.

Is the sight entrancing or violent?

You make it look easy,

The purposeful way you move.

How your fingers hold the bow,

You guide to sing for your muse.

I’ve never quite heard it sing like that.

-

Shimmering moonlight all over my skin,

Bathe me a pool to swim in.

I like to take my time,

Swirl your ankle in lazy circles to pass the idle.

And I’ll take my sweet time.

So if you like,

Won’t you cast through the water tonight?

-

Your shoulders,

Do I make them hold too much?

It’s just that you bear this line of strength,

Running through them.

I see it in the way you endure and uphold,

So strong in the face of the bleeding of hearts.

It’s like the stars wove your shoulders with endless faith.

I feel the frailty,

Trembling in mine.

How they sink for the floor in begging devastation.

Oh, but when you’re near,

They ease with strength.

That yours has birthed.

So let it be time for mine,

To hold and raise your floor drawn eyes.

And carry your tired hands on the shoulders you helped stand again.

-

Butterflies and ballerinas.

I used to catch them in the field like dreams.

With the butterfly net my father made me.

Very small in her pale pink tights.

Slip on ballet shoes,

Flexible,

Don’t add height.

But Oh, how she loved the sparkles, the movement, the lights.

But curtains fall.

When those who hold tickets don’t show.

Red velvet devastation meet floor.

She knew it was so,

When she peeked out from behind.

I wish I could tell her,

There are more shows on the horizon.

Sold out like Eras’.

Fuck ticket master,

My man has my ticket.

There will be more shows darling,

Attended with intent.

Rests to be taken,

Carefully wrapped up in bed.

Now I don’t have to catch butterflies,

Now they land to rest on my lashes.

And I stitched my own tights,

Ones that fit my height.

Then I practiced all night,

Danced until I got it right.

Practically broke the bones gifted to my feet,

So I could shine properly.

And announced my debut show.

And when I was ready,

And the curtain rose,

You were sat there.

Smiling.

Front row.

-

Actors

Would I have known how to play a thousand faces?

Would I have survived if I hadn’t played the part?

If I hadn’t learned to cradled her like I was a sister?

If I hadn’t painted myself into the art,

And stumbled on the museum.

Or play the artist,

Scrubbing pain into the canvas?

Would I have known, 

If I hadn’t known,

How to stitch up my own skin?

Know how to recognize deer between creeper?

Or build shelter from stones.

Hide my own furs,

To dress frostbitten skin.

It is why, 

Isn’t it?

That I learned to mask the pain,

Was it what saved me from losing sight of you

During London bridge’s sabotaged felling?

So I could be My own Fair Lady?

Or how to be brave,

From the characters I played?

But I promise you one thing,

I’ll never act with you.

[shopises]

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[lenadmiration]

ILE AUX CROCOS

ref: https://www.instagram.com/p/CG715zXA3du/

[myhauntedsalem]

The Surrency Haunting

In the early 1870s, a Georgia family was at the center of a whirlwind of bizarre and sometimes violet poltergeist activity

“That place was possessed by something evil.”

That was the opinion of Herschel Tillman when he recalled his many visits to the home of Allen Powel Surrency when he was a boy in the early 1870s. He was just one of the thousands of witnesses to the strange and sometimes violent paranormal activity that plagued the Surrency home, making it one of the most well-known and witnessed cases of this kind in American history.

Allen Powel Surrency, a saw mill operator, was the founder of the small town of Surrency in southeastern Georgia. When returning home from a trip to Hazelhurst in October, 1872, he found his house beset with the haunting. In a letter he wrote to the Savannah Morning News he said:

A few minutes after my arrival I saw the glass tumblers begin to slide off the slab and the crockery to fall upon the floor and break. The books began to tumble from their shelves to the floor, while brickbats, billets of wood, smoothing irons, biscuits, potatoes, tin pans, water buckets, pitchers, etc., began to fall in different parts of my house. There have been many other strange occurrences about my house. These facts can be established by 75 or 100 witnesses.

On the face of it, it sounds as if Surrency’s house might have suffered an earthquake. In fact, that theory has been offered to explain the phenomena at the house. But that explanation does not hold up to scrutiny: the strange activity lasted weeks, even years off and on; the Surrency house was the only one affected; and an earthquake could not explain all of the bizarre phenomena described below.

And although the Surrency phenomena is usually referred to as a haunting and was attributed by witnesses to ghosts, the case actually has the earmarks of poltergeist activity, which is a psychic phenomenon rather than one that is caused by a residual or intelligent haunting. In fact, there seem to have been no reports of an apparition at Surrency.

Most poltergeist cases center around an “agent,” usually a female of the age of puberty. At the time, the Surrency family had eight children ranging in age from 3 to 21.

News of this “haunting” spread like wildfire, and soon Surrency was the center of a media frenzy. Reporters and curiosity seekers from all over the country (and even England and Canada) descended on the little town in hopes of seeing the activity first-hand. Few were disappointed.

PARANORMAL ACTIVITY

Like the famous Bell Witch case, the poltergeist activity at the Surrency house was extreme and divers. Here are just some of the reported phenomena:

Unexplained screams were heard

Voices came from an empty bedroom

Plates, platters and books flew from their shelves

Ink bottles leap off a table

Doors opened and closed by unseen hands

The hands of clocks spun fast and even moved backward; a chime clock struck 13

Hot bricks fell from nowhere and landed on the roof and in the yard

A pair of boots trod across the floor on their own

At mealtimes, objects on the dinner table would “dance” around

Logs rolled out of the fireplace

Several hogs and chickens appeared in the living room, seemingly from nowhere, frightening one reporter out of his wits

Bedcovers rolled up and down at night

In an effort to rid his house and family of the terrifying activity, Surrency sought the help of the clergy, scientists as well as spirit mediums and psychics – all to no avail. Even after the house burned down in 1925, the activity followed the family to their new home on the other side of the county.

It wasn’t until Allen Surrency’s death in 1877, it is said, that the haunting finally stopped. Some, however, say it continues to this day around the town of Surrency. In fact, there is a famous ghost light there – a bright yellow ball of light that appears along the railroad tracks.

[jomiddlemarch]

Which alters when it alteration finds

VII. “Let me make this good for you, that’s what he said,” Emma announced and then sipped at her tea. It was real tea with real honey that Mary had brought back with her from Boston thought Jed had joked Bostonians were expected to dump the stuff in the harbor and then boast about it. Mary had shrugged and reminded him she’d been born in Manchester and he’d kissed her, which was his most frequent response to any quip or sally. Mary thought she might tire of it but only after at least a decade of marriage and perhaps not even then. The tea was strong, the honey clover-sweet and the tea-cup one of a set painted with violets, but Emma’s expression had not altered. She remained quite prettily exasperated.

“That’s what he said and then he kissed my hand in the most gallant gesture and I suppose I was meant to swoon, Mary, but truly, I nearly screamed,” Emma said.

“You scream? In the sitting room of Mansion House? If your upbringing wouldn’t prevent you, the likelihood you’d attract Nurse Hastings attention would surely be enough to stop you,” Mary said. Anne Hastings had softened, very slightly, in her attitude towards Mary since Nurse Phinney had returned as Mrs. Jedediah Foster, pale and unsteady and completely unsuited to any nursing, let alone the role of Head Nurse at the busy hospital, but the Englishwoman remained brash and intrusive, quick to give orders, saving all her kindness for the sickest boys who wouldn’t last the night.

“I said nearly, though I worry more about Matron Brannan,” Emma replied. “He’ll make me wait forever, taking his time this way, one petal at a time, this endless courtship he’s decided I deserve, flowery compliments and what he believes constitutes a billet-doux.”

“Henry Hopkins waxing rhapsodic? I knew he was quite enamored of you, but I never thought I’d hear him spoken of so. He’s not a man given to lengthy disquisition, not even when he gives a sermon,” Mary said.

“He’s not a patch on Dr. Foster when it comes to talking—”

“Oh, Dr. Foster’s penchant for loquacity is as unalterable as Euclid’s theorems,” Mary said. “But I am gathering that Mr. Hopkins is vexing you abominably. Have you let him know?”

“How? I don’t mean because I’m too busy or he is, or that there’s not a private alcove to steal away,” Emma said. Mary couldn’t help smiling a little, remembering the tight quarters of the medicine closet, the door locking out the rest of the world, but Emma took no notice. “The back verandah would do or the sitting room or the dead room for all I care—”

“Emma!”

“I beg your pardon, Mary, truly, but it wouldn’t matter where or for how long, because he’s so blasted stubborn and he’s decided he must win me when I’m already won! I don’t care that we’d be poor as church-mice or that when the War ends, I’ll have to leave Virginia, that my mother will give us the coldest reception she dares when we call and my sister won’t speak to me again. I just want to marry him. That’s what would make things good for me, but I’ve not the faintest idea how to convince Henry of it!”

“I do see your dilemma,” Mary said. “Should you be as direct with Mr. Hopkins, he would surely be permanently struck dumb, which would not serve your purposes. Shall I ask Dr. Foster to speak to him?”

“I hope you won’t take offense, but Dr. Foster’s happiness has made him less circumspect, not more,” Emma replied and Mary smiled at the truth of it. She’d had to chide him for his demonstrative behavior and remarks on more than one occasion since they’d returned to Virginia as man and wife. “Oh, Mary, wouldn’t you speak to Henry?”

“I?”

“Well, he’s always listened to you and now you’re married yourself and not a Baroness anymore. And you’re both New Englanders, you’ll understand how to put it to him so he understands and actually stops dawdling and sets a date,” Emma said.  

“What do you imagine I’ll say, in my matronly New Englander way?” Mary asked. Jed would shout with laughter when she told him of her conversation and chuckle as he offered his own suggestions to persuade the lagging lover Rev. Hopkins.

“A psalm? Or maybe there’s something in Proverbs?” Emma said. Jed, who was better acquainted with his Bible than anyone at Mansion House would have credited, would be sure to recommend the Song of Solomon with specific chapter and verse.

“I’ll see what I can manage,” Mary answered. “We’re famous for that, we matronly New Englanders, for our management. And our cheddar apple pie.”

“Which I’ve yet to sample,” Jed remarked from the doorway. He could be stealthy when he chose and she wondered how long he’d been listening. “Perhaps you might serve it at the wedding breakfast?”

“You wish to be comforted with apples, then, Dr. Foster?” Mary said.

“If you say so, it must be true,” he replied.

[equipe]

Notes de mise à jour

🌟 Nouveautés

Les URL des podcasts Spotify sont désormais prises en charge.

Vous pouvez désormais choisir de décorer vos textes en violet dans l'éditeur de billets bêta sur le Web.

🛠️ Correctifs

La version 20.5 de l’application Android corrige quelques bugs visuels qui affectaient le jeu de couleurs Cyber Goth.

La version 20.5 de l’application iOS corrige une anomalie qui pouvait empêcher la sélection d'une vidéo depuis votre appareil lors de la création d’un billet.

Correction d’un problème dans la version Web mobile qui pouvait provoquer l'affichage d'une page vide à l'ouverture de la messagerie.

Correction d’une erreur qui faisait apparaître des blogs vous ayant bloqué dans les recommandations.

Correction d’un bug dans la recherche sur le Web qui affichait des résultats identiques pour les filtres “Récents” et “Plus populaires”.

Vous rencontrez un problème ? Vous souhaitez nous faire part de vos commentaires ? Écrivez-nous (en anglais) et nous reviendrons vers vous aussi vite que possible !

[boneandfur]

Time After Time 2/2

TWO

Note: the characters demanded smut. There is a link to the NSFW version on ao3 at that point. tumblr won’t let me load the moodboard. I’m very frustrated with this hellsite.

Women aren't doctors at the Front, Miss... what did you say your name was again? Ah, Miss Valentine. American. That explains it... But we do need good quality nurses... You'll be sent to France right away on account of your prior training... Jolly good, just sign the dotted line... 

"I assume you'll have the watered wine, Rookie." Ramsay leans across the table, lightly tugging the menu from Helena's numb fingers. Every little boom makes her shiver, though she's adopted the English habit of keeping a stiff upper lip. Her grandmother has told her stories to curdle your guts, about standing on a hill at Gettysburg and watching her lover ride hell for leather into battle. And I followed him, didn't I, chick? 

"What brought you here? To the Front?" Helena cocks her head at him, and Ramsay's brows raise nearly to his hairline. 

"You're bold as brass.” Ramsay snaps his fingers. “I like that. Knew it as soon as you stepped out of that line of nurses that you wouldn't turn into a shrinking violet at your first amputation." Ramsay turns to their waiter, a Frenchman of elderly years with an ear trumpet. "We'll take your best watered wine for the lady, and a bottle of whiskey." 

Helena coughs lightly, and addresses the waiter in seamless French. "(What is the special today?)" 

The old man looks sad. "(I am afraid we do not have anything special. Just some eel ragout, and fresh bread my wife baked this morning.)" 

"(Then we will take that, and your best bottle of Merlot.)" 

When the owner has gone, Ramsay smiles broadly at Helena, showing white teeth against three days shadow of a beard on his jaw. "By God, you're a marvel. Never learned much French myself, besides what I've had to behind the lines." 

"Oh, my governess despaired of me." Helena shrugs, but cannot help smiling in return. "I can speak enough French to get by, you know, but I could never pass for a natural." 

"Well, you are an American." But it does not sound like an insult.

The eel comes, and she eats ravenously, less like a lady and more like the girl who downed seven glasses of champagne and then raced her brother from Boston to Concord on horseback. 

And Ramsay drinks. Thoughtfully. Mindfully. She does not remember, afterward, nor for many years, what they said, only how she had smiled and smiled until her cheeks hurt, and the ticking of the pocket watch. 

One two, one two. Tick tock. Eleven hours. Ten hours. Nine hours. Eleven minutes and eleven seconds.

No more standing to in trenches,//Only one more church parade. 

"I had a patron who paid for me to go to medical school, a well respected chap named Naveen.” Ramsay nurses his whiskey, rolling the glass with purpose between his palms. “After school, I joined the army to make something of myself, and went to India. My wife deserted me for another man while I was gone. She didn't like the army life, you see." 

Helena reaches out, laying her hand over his. Ramsay startles, but does not move his hand away, and instead flips it over, laying his palm flat against hers and caressing her wrist with his rough fingers. She drags in a breath, the sudden widening of his pupils making her lower abdomen flutter. "I ran away from home. No one knows I'm here, or I'd be dragged back to Boston to marry a Stirling and pop out an heir and a spare before the war has even gotten started." 

"You don't even want to know about what this war will look like if it keeps going, lass." Ramsay drains his glass, and pours them both another. "I'd tell you to go back to Boston, but I can see by that look in your eye that you'll see this thing through. I respect that." 

Helena does not trust herself to speak. The wine is making her thoughts slow, but she does not want this moment to end. 

Ramsay rubs a hand over his jaw. "That was back in '09. I hung my boots up, moved to Scotland, and threw myself into practice in Edinburgh. Then that damn fool shot a Prince, and well, here we are." 

Steady, silent. Their eyes meet and the watch ticks on. Helena feels as though she is drowning. His mouth moves and she only feels the heat of his palm against hers, her cheeks ablaze. 

'Nurse! Nurse Valentine! Are you dumb or are you just deaf?! Hand me those scissors, and bring me another scalpel... These damned orderlies don't know what they're doing...'

Their eyes meet across the bloody operating table. The soldier is mercilessly unconscious, a bloody piece of shrapnel in his thigh. He'd been screaming since he came in off the ambulance, a boy of no more than nineteen, a Tommy named Elijah... 'Mum, Mum, water, water...'

'That's a Blighty, Rookie. Your first. Are you going to faint on me, lass?' Ramsay's eyes lock on Helena's. She feels the flint of his gaze go straight to her spine, and straightens up. 

'No, Doctor. I'll be fine, sir.'

'I told you Americans have brass, Ramsay!' The surgeon, Lahela, winks at Helena in passing, but she does not notice. Her gaze does not falter under Ramsay's. 'Pass me the tweezers.'

His mouth quirks, just a shade. 'Good girl.'

"...Good God, Rookie, will you drink the whole bottle? I promise my company isn't as bad as all that." Helena feels Ramsay tug at her wine glass, and relinquishes it. The lamp has begun to burn low, and from the outside of the cafe is the sound of drunken laughter. "You shouldn't walk out there alone. Come on, I'll walk you back to your billet." 

"I don't have one," Helena confesses. She pats her bag, shamefaced. "I spent my money for the hotel on books... I can sleep on the truck." 

Ramsay shakes his head. "No, no, that won't do. We can't have you more dead on your feet than usual. I have a solution. It's a bit unorthodox. Do you trust me?" 

Eight hours, three minutes, seven seconds. 

•••

Helena does not know why, but the lights from the star shells, all green and gold, make her grip Ramsay's arm tighter, and press against his side. At the corner, he stops and gazes down at her, a strange and wild new thing in his face, something she dares not name. 

Don't forget me, Helena Valentine. When this lousy war is over, I'll come back, you see... 

"Tell me..." Ramsay brushes a curl back from her brow, his broad fingertips sending a crackle across her bare flesh. "Why did you become a doctor, Rookie -- Helena?" 

"I read a wonderful book." Helena ducks her head, and looks up at Ramsay from under her lashes, illuminated by the lamplight. Behind them, to the east, she hears the screech of a Minnie, and his hands tighten on her fingers. "It was written by a Scottish doctor who had served in India, on the Northwest Frontier." Her gaze skitters away. 

People said when we enlisted,//Fame and medals we would win.

"Ah. I knew a chap who served there, in his younger days." Ramsay tucks her cold hand through his elbow. The snow is falling thicker now, and they are nearly to the hotel. A quick word from Ramsay to the proprietor -- she hears the words une chambre pour les jeunes mariés -- He knows French after all -- 

And before she knows it, she is sitting in a delectably steaming hot hip bath, strewn with lavender and rosemary. She washes her hair and cannot remember the last time she felt such luxury. 

Nine months, two days, thirteen minutes...

When this war is over, //No more soldiering for me. 

"You can have the bed. I'll bunk down with Medical Officers Gayle and Nguyen, from the -nth Platoon." Ramsay stands in the doorway, his cap in his hands, avoiding looking directly at Helena in her muslin shift. "We wouldn't want you to lose your reputation and have to leave the war so soon." 

"Stay." She feels her eyelids drooping, and pats the quilt next to her. "Please, stay." 

"You know I can't do that." Yet, she hears the floorboards squeak as Ramsay settles next to her on a chair. The inn rattles like a whizzbang and she grasps Ramsay's hand, clutching at it until the clattering of the teacups subsides. "Only a little longer, then, Rookie. Until you're safe." 

•••

Ethan watches Helena Valentine fall asleep. There is nothing he'd like more than to climb next to her in that big bed, to feel her lithe body against his. But it would be wrong, even though nothing will ever be right again after the war is over. But if he can keep her safe -- If I can keep her alive -- he dares not finish the thought. 

“You wouldn't remember me, Helena Valentine, but I was the guest speaker of honor when they hung the plaque for your grandfather at the Royal Hospital, in Edinburgh.” Ethan whispers the words, barely a murmur. The whiskey has given him courage, here in a small hotel near the Ypres front. 

Ypres, the Race to the Sea. Generals called it a triumph, but the only thing the war has given Ethan thus far has been insomnia for thirty-six hours, a hatred of mustard gas and a pair of fine German boots from over the top. 

“He was an old surgeon, a medical man, who fought in the American Civil War, but he did great things for Scottish medicine, too, back in his youth.” Helena's fingertips tighten on his palm, and Ethan fears he has said too much. But he goes on, like a schoolboy at the confessional, for who can say when they shall ever have this moment again? And hasn't the war taught him by now to leave nothing unsaid? 

“You must have been not more than twenty-one, then. You were still unmarried, with a vast inheritance that folks said you'd squandered on medical school. I knew right then and there that Jonas Valentine would have been proud of you. I wanted to introduce myself right there and then…” 

But I was too tongue tied by your beauty, and couldn't find the words. Later, when I saw you again in Ypres, I couldn't believe my own eyes. I didn't want to tell you how I felt then...

(But that will keep, until this war is over.)

Her grip loosens, and he knows she is sleeping. She sighs in her slumber when his lips brush across her dainty brow, and it is with everything inside of him screaming at him to turn around that he walks away. 

When I get my civvy clothes on,/Oh how happy I shall be.

•••

Forty-five minutes, thirty seconds. 

The books are too heavy. Yet, Helena, an oasis of blue with a red cross on one arm in a sea of green uniforms, settles in with Sherlock Holmes. Rookie... She snaps the book shut, watching the landscape go by from the army van. 

I shouldn't... We shouldn't. Ramsay cups both sides of Helena's face in his hands. The book drops to the floor. They are both damp from the bath, and his skin smells of cedar and lavender soap. 

copy and paste into your tab:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957496/chapters/73743633

Later, she will remember the exact way the quilt felt as he pulled it over her shoulders, tucking her in, embers in the grate and his lips ghosting across her forehead. 

•••

Twenty years on, when a new war is brewing, this is what Helena Valentine remembers: 

The air, so still and warm, with not a single lark singing. The earth smells of flowers and death, and she is sharing sterilizing duty with VAD Nurse Varma, whom she'd come over from London with. 

"I suppose you think you're better than me, being a real doctor and all, but..." Jackie's lips move, but Helena cannot hear what she is saying. All she can hear is a buzzing sound, a ringing in her head. 

One two, one two. 

Her hands tremble with fatigue over the medical instruments. 

Thirteen minutes and forty-seven seconds. 

Tick, tock. 

The table begins to shake and she looks at Jackie, their eyes wide as they clasp hands -- and then they are running -- and the bridge is shaking, it's shaking Dr Ramsay, you shouldn't be out here, it's wartime you know -- 

No one can know about this, about us. You know that, right? 

I know, Dr Ramsay.

He cups her chin in his hand. They say you're a grasping American chit, but you're my American chit now, and I won't hear anything against you. Oh -- and don't check your bag until you're on the truck back to the lines. I left something there for you. 

Then you have this -- keep it until the war is over -- it was my grandfather's and it's over a hundred years old and it's still ticking on. 

His mouth is warm on hers, tip of his tongue pressed against hers for a surprisingly electric surge.  

-- "Nurse Valentine! Valentine!" --

Helena wakes in the morning with the ashes cold in the grate, Ramsay's greatcoat draped over her. It smells of peat and whiskey, and the faintest whiff of mustard gas. Her thighs are wet and she looks under the quilts and realizes her cycle has started, and she does not know why, but she begins to sob, whether from relief or terror she knows not. 

One two, one two.

(Twelve hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty four seconds.)

Tick, tock. 

People said when we enlisted,/Fame and medals we would win,/But the fame is in the guardroom,/And those medals made of tin.