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zariasona · 2 months

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I'm coming home.

Zariasona had been settled into her home in Duskwood for the night. The hustle and bustle of Stormwind and the political work she had so immersed herself in was relaxing to her, yet it was also taxing. The only thing she had to look forward to was going to the Manor to see her beloved Feylonis, and their precious daughter Leandra. Leandra, who was now age five, still didn't quite understand why her Minn'da was gone all day, leaving her home with Feylonis whom she came to call mom. Feylonis wasn't alone with Leandra all day, for the manor still had the head servant, Agnes Cooke.

Feylonis had just entered into the parlor, having just put the young Leandra to bed for the night. Plopping down on the couch she sighed heavily as she buried her face into her arms on the armrest of the couch. "I am so glad she's asleep now.." The Magistrix chuckled as she set down the book she had been reading. "I know. She was a little terror today. Refused to leave my side even when I came home. I think she's still trying to get acclimated to our life. It's a shame that-" She paused, not wanting to think about the recent passing of her husband.

"Dalah'surfal.. I know. But we will be alright. The person who killed him is in the stockades for life. And thank the Light for that." Fey had been quick to move to the floor before Zariasona, grabbing hold of her hands so that she could offer any comfort she could to her.

"I know, darling. It's just-" She sniffed, her gaze shifting to the ceiling. It was clear she was trying to not cry again. "I need to get back to work. I cannot let this stop me." "Oh come on Zari, You can't bury yourself in work every time something happens like this. You do this every time."

At that moment, a heavy pounding upon the front door was heard. It was loud enough that it echoed in the foyer, and came into the parlor where Feylonis and Zariasona sat. The silence was deafening between them. Thankfully, Agnes was still up for they heard the scurried foot falls heading towards the door.

The large doors creaked open, and mumbling could be heard between Agnes and another female who stood outside. "I'm sorry, you're who?" Another mumble of words came, and there was silence in the foyer. "Let me consult the Mistress. One moment." The door closed gently and Agnes was quick to stand in the entry-way of the parlor. Clearing her throat, she softly spoke. "M-Mistress. There's someone claiming to be your-" She fell silent, trying to conjure the words. Clear cut confusion was written all over Agnes' face.

"Spit it out already, Agnes. Who is at the door?" It was late, and Zariasona hated late night guests.

"Your sister."

"Impossible. Both of them perished. What is her name?"

"She says it's Kinadra, a sin'dorei of the Ebon Blade."

Zariasona was frozen, her eyes locked to Agnes. Feylonis peered up at Zaria with the same confusion as Agnes. "Surfal.. I thought you said your sisters perished? How is this-" "Send her in. Send her in now." The words were spoken so quick that they cut off Feylonis' words.

Agnes gave a quick bow before scurrying towards the door once more. As the large oak doors creaked open, both of the women could hear Agnes speak. "The Mistress will see you in the par-"

The black-cloaked figure pushed passed Agnes upon hearing it was alright to enter, not giving her the chance to finish. For a moment, a flurry of disorientation filled the woman as she sought out the room with the crackling fire. Within seconds, she was standing where Agnes had just been with her black hood covering her face, and water dripping down her form from the rain that just ended.

Zariasona was quick to lift herself to her feet, eager to see the face of the woman who claimed to be her sister. Feylonis moved just as quickly, planting herself just behind Zaria.

The hood lowered, and the straight black hair fell out of the hood with pointed ears springing to life. Blue lich fire eyes, and the same silken complexion that Zaria remembered her to have always had.

"Kinadra.." Zaria said nothing more and rushed to her sister to hug her tightly. "I thought you died." "I did." Kinadra's cold voice came. "But the Lich King brought me back. I now live under the banner of the Ebon Blade. And Zari.. I've come home. At long last, I have come home."

"Kinnie.." Zariasona hugged her tighter, and together the two sisters sobbed together before the roaring fireplace.

@daily-writing-challenge

#creative writing #moon guard #moonguard #roleplay #world of warcraft #void elf #maydwc #day 4 #daily writing challenge #daily writing prompt #heckin late post #mayday42024 #maydwc2024 #zariasona #drama #celebration

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existentialcowboy · 1 year

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Storms in Steinhatchee

I lived in Steinhatchee Florida for several years before relocating to the Panhandle region. The town has its good and bad, like any other, but as the news has pointed out it has never before been hit by a major hurricane. Idalia has changed that.

Anyway, that got me to remembering the Storm of the Century, the storm that clobbered the area in the spring of 1993. I was there and remember the storm surge—including waking in the wee hours and finding ankle deep water in my place!. It got way deeper before things were over. I don't know how the surge compared with that of Idalia but it looks to have been comparable. Of course, this was a winter cyclone. The winds were heavy but not hurricane strength (much less Category 3). But it was a heck of a lot colder.

I borrowed some from that experience for scenes in my very first novel, the Young Adult title 'The Middle of Nowhere.' I also had to write a song about it. Not necessarily a 'true' personal account but one based on the event:

THE STORM OF THE CENTURY March Twelfth, Nineteen Ninety-three, That’s when the Storm of the Century Came ravening from the wind-swept Gulf, Howling like the hungry wolf. When the Storm of the Century came calling, When the Storm of the Century came calling. The wind was throwing knives at the night, And startled the clouds into sheepish flight; I heard the black oaks together sigh As they offered themselves to the sky. In the dark, I prayed the storm would pass, But the river was rising, the field was a glass Where the moon played hide-and-seek with its twin, While the endless ebon flood poured in. And it was time to take higher ground, But there’s not a lot to be found In a Florida Gulf Coast town When the Storm of the Century comes calling, Oh, comes calling. The river came knocking at my door, The icy flow swept across the floor To clutch at my ankles as I made my way Into the gale, for I could not stay. With two guitars and the clothes on my back, I waded through the night with black Water rushing around my knees; The remorseless wind shouted symphonies. And it was time to take higher ground, But there’s not a lot to be found In a Florida Gulf Coast town When the Storm of the Century comes calling, Oh, comes calling. I saw a light, I climbed a stair, Strangers gave me shelter there; Some didn’t reach the dawn alive But God agreed I should survive, When the Storm of the Century came calling, When the Storm of the Century came calling. Stephen Brooke ©2003

#song lyrics #hurricane #storms

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sekhisadventures · 1 year

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Druid Disappeared

Valdrakken, One Week After Malgum’s Introduction

It was definitely taking some getting used to for the Alliance and Horde to say the least. The Eredar had returned, not as enemies but as potential allies. Some were pragmatic about it, the orcs by and large sympathized with the man’ari renegades being tricked into fel corruption… after all, wasn’t that how they came to Azeroth to begin with?

For the Forsaken they were suspicious, but overall gave them the benefit of the doubt, again much for the same reasons. The Illidari as a whole kept a close eye on them, remembering all too well that until very recently they were their sworn enemies.

For much of the defenders of Azeroth however… the reaction was concern, wariness, and outright distrust. Some believed this to be a trick, others questioned if the aging Prophet of the Draenei had finally succumbed to senility, but whatever the reaction it changed little. With Velen’s endorsement, Arzaal and his followers were there to stay.

Like the Ebon Blade and the Illidari before them, they would be given the opportunity to prove they could rise beyond their dark origins… and should they not prove this, well, by now Azeroth knew how to deal with demonic foes.

That being said… some were handling it better than others.

Jaie awoke that morning in her room above the Roasted Ram and stood, yawning and stretching, then looked over to the bed where the other occupant had been staying. Valdrakken was so full anymore that space had gone from being plentiful to a severe premium, and the various adventurers were having to double up more often than not. Sometimes triple or even quadruple up… but as it had been for several days now the bed opposite her’s showed no signs of use.

Jaie sighed as she saw the empty bed, still in her bedclothes… then pulled her gemstone out of her bag and drew the rune for Shalandrae on it with her fingertip. It wasn’t her name, there wasn’t a specific rune for that, but rather Shalandrae’s rune was the rune for ‘great oak tree.’ Nelen and Nitika had worked together to decide on appropriate and easy to remember runes for everyone such as ‘Wise Elder’ (Dareley,) ‘Joyful Song’ (Sekhi,) and ‘Destructive Flame’ (Grimo.)

She waited for a long moment as the gemstone shined, trying to reach out to it’s twin in Shalandrae’s pouch… and after a good ten minutes she gave up and drew the rune for ‘sever’ to break the connection. “Nothing…” she sighed, sitting back down and shaking her head.

At the foot of her bed a head perked up. “Shalandrae ain’t answerin’ huh?” came a small voice.

In truth, the room had three occupants normally. Sekhi, being a vulpera, didn’t need a full sized bed. Rather she would sleep on a bedroll at the foot of Jaie’s bed most nights… though on more than one occasion she had wound up… well…

The first time Sekhi had explained that it was instinctive among vulpera to… huddle up when it came time to sleep. While it was blisteringly hot during the day, some nights in Vol’dun could be frigid enough to rival Northrend (albeit Northrend in springtime,) and the vulpera had adapted by sleeping in large groups to share body heat. On occasion Sekhi, half awake at night, would find herself instinctively seeking out the nearest warm spot to curl up in which, of course, would be the large bear-like woman nearby.

It had been awkward the first time, but now Jaie just accepted that sometimes her bed would have a surprise guest in the mornings and trusted Sekhi to behave herself there.

Jaie shook her head sadly at the vulpera, “She’s still not answering her gemstone.” replied the pandaren as Sekhi stretched, her tail extending and twitching behind her as she did.

“Yeah… I heard her song that day when we all met Malgum. She’s really angry, but really sad too. I think its lotsa things. I didn’t know what a ‘man’ari’ yippin’ was until a few days ago, but… yeah… I can get demons.” she whined, thinking back to their past encounters with Dissonantia.

Jaie nodded, “I just wish she would answer, just so we know she’s alright. I mean… we know her stone isn’t broken, but she could be anywhere now and the Isles aren’t safe to travel alone.” she frowned, the pandaren changing into her travelling clothes, then picking up her spear and sliding it into the holster on her back before walking out of the room to get breakfast.

Sekhi followed her out, scampering after her as she pulled her backpack on. Not a vulpera knapsack but a sturdy brown leather one made in Iskaara. “Yeah… we just gotta hope she’ll come back.” she yipped.

As they got downstairs to the common area they found Nelen already awake and seated at a table, talking with the draenei Aziguni, Malgum’s sister.

“Please Nelen… I feel horrible for what happened. I just…” she tried again, but the mage shook his head.

“Aziguni, I understand. We’re all worried about Shalandrae, but seeing one of the man’ari in the flesh was a terrible shock for her. Yes, you are right that because I was the one who made her stave that I could use my connection to it to scry her location… but I won’t do so unless we have reason to believe she’s in trouble.” he replied firmly, but not unkindly. “This isn’t the first time she’s had to run off like this. She’s a druid, she knows just how dangerous she can be if she gets too angry or upset. I heard what she did when she first saw your brother. A druid who loses control can do a LOT of damage, intentionally or not.”

Aziguni cringed at his words, knowing the mage was right, and yet she couldn’t help feeling guilty for what had happened. Her hope that her brother’s attempt at redemption might be accepted by Shalandrae and her friends was, perhaps, hoping too much for one of the kal’dorei to simply forgive and forget when it came to their ancient foes.

“Now…” he stood, picking up his own stave. “I must be going. I promised Sekhi’s sister I’d tutor her every third day, and that’s today. I can’t just shirk my duties to my apprentice.” he said, then his expression softened. “Don’t worry, I’ve known Shalandrae for years now. She’ll come back eventually, she just needs time to accept the state of things… and this is a big thing to accept.”

Aziguni nodded wordlessly, remaining seated as she looked down at the table, lost in her own thoughts.

Sekhi whined, her ears twitching as she heard Aziguni’s song… it spoke of guilt, of good intentions gone wrong, and of fear of losing something precious.

As Nelen walked out of the Inn he paused near the door. Leaning against the wall outside, idly chewing on a strip of jerky, was a young woman with blue and pink hair and strikingly pink eyes, dressed in a blue vest-top and a pair of baggy white trousers. “Laura, if you could keep an eye out for her… just incase…” he murmured.

The evoker nodded, “Yes, I believe I could do so Nelen.” she replied with a small grin as her sharp fang-like teeth tore into the strip of dried meat. Even in her visage form some draconic features remained, and one of those was that all her teeth were quite sharp.

Nelen smiled back and nodded to her, “Thanks.” he said in a soft tone, then he walked off towards the entrance to Valdrakken where Sekhi’s family had set up their small trading post.

Behind him Laura finished her snack, then stepped away from the building as crimson flames swirled about her form, her humanoid guise vanishing in a burst of magic, and with a flap of large wings Laurelgosa of the Dracthyr took to the skies once more, soaring off towards the Ohn’ahran Plains.

The other five members of Avalon, as well as most of Savage United (Grimo was, well, Grimo) were concerned for their friend, especially now that their foe Dissonantia was likely growing desperate. If she became aware that Shalandrae had left Valdrakken in such a state the Witch of Blackwald Forest may well decide to take the opportunity to strike down one of her most dangerous enemies.

He didn’t want to just immediately violate Shalandrae’s need for privacy and distance after what had happened, but he didn’t exactly want to leave her on her own either. He wouldn’t use magic… but Laurelgosa had wings and could cover a lot of ground. If she just happened to find the wayward druidess… well… Laurelgosa could hardly be blamed for informing her friends of Shalandrae’s current situation.

As he walked towards the cart he glanced to his right and frowned. Across the square were a trio of eredar… and one of them was none other than Malgum himself. He did sympathize somewhat with them after he heard their story. He knew how it felt to become a monster against one’s will, he was Gilnean after all, but he also remembered Argus, and how Krag’thar had died to save them from a Legion charge that likely included several eredar among it’s forces.

Forgiveness was likely never going to happen, at least not in his lifetime… even tolerance would take some doing… for now, for Aziguni’s sake at least…

The eredar saw him, then gave him a curt nod, and Nelen returned it in kind.

For now, just accept that this is the state of things… and what happened would happen. Nelen had an apprentice to worry about right now.

Time, however, can be a cruel thing on Azeroth…

Thaldraszus, on the path to the Bronze Oathstone

The bronze drakonids had been transporting a cache of relics found on the isles to their base for safekeeping. They had been until someone had gotten impatient.

The draconic humanoids lay scattered across the field, several were dead, one or two were still breathing but too hurt to move, and one of them…

That one had horrified his allies as he was the first to fall. The group had noticed something was off with the timelines in the area, then the air around him seemed to gray before he doubled over in pain. His scales grew thin and cracked, his fangs fell from his mouth, his eyes sank in, and it was like he’d aged eons in moments. A weakened drakonid had fallen to their knees, what had landed on the ground was a pile of fossilized bones.

Then there was a sudden hissing sound and a shape darted out of a fold in the air nearby, taking out two more before it vanished again, then a third. The survivors tried to rally but at this point the ambush was in full swing.

As the last of the guards lay on the ground, his lungs suddenly having trouble drawing oxygen from the air, he looked up as a shape walked towards him out of a stitch in time itself. “Apologies, but I had tried being nice and it was getting me nowhere…” said a cultured voice as an elf in resplendent purple robes walked towards the fallen drakonid. Behind him a dragon appeared as if from nowhere, one of the long sinewy slitherdrakes they had found in the caves below the Isles… but it’s scales were as black as night itself, cracked through with bolts of brilliant white.

There was no mistaking it. The slitherdrake was one of the Infinite Dragonflight.

“Y-you already failed… Murazond has not risen…” gasped the drakonid guardsman, “Chromie and her allies… stopped you…”

“Mmm, they did… this time. But that’s the fun thing about time isn’t it? Patience is all you really need to have another go.” chuckled the elf, opening the chest they had been transporting.

Inside it, seated on a velvet cushion, were two things. A longsword of draconic design that seemed to constantly shed grains of sand, and a blue crystal with an odd weight to it as if it was larger than it should be.

The elf took both of them, then turned to the drakonid with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll be putting these to good use. Better than they would have been simply sitting forgotten in some archive in your citadel.” he chuckled.

The drakonid struggled, trying to stand. “Nyloc… why… why side with them?” he gasped.

Nyloc Athel, Chronomancer of Suramar City, shrugged dismissively. “You lot and your ‘one true timeline’ nonsense were becoming insufferable, and you simply wouldn’t give me access to the knowledge I sought. The Infinite are much more free with their information, and very happy sharing it with a man of my skill.” he smirked.

The drakonid gasped, but his muscles felt like they were withering within his arms. Even as he tried to lift himself his own weight was too much! “Nozdormu will… learn of this… he will find you, no matter where or… when you hide…” he wheezed.

“Perhaps he will.” shrugged Nyloc, “Personally, I would love to see him do so. I had always wondered how I would fare against a foe of his caliber. So far however…” he reached out a hand and gestured, the air around his hand turning monochrome, a deep grey that leeched the color out of everything around his fingers.

The drakonid gasped as his eyes widened, collapsing as he clutched at his heart… but his arteries were withering, his chest muscles atrophying at a terrifying rate, and finally he fell silent. It was extremely rare, but if a draconic being lived long enough they were at horrible risk of heart failure.

Thanks to Nyloc’s powers, the ability to manipulate entropy itself, the guardsman had lived several lifetimes in the span of a few scant moments. “… yes, so far I am NOT impressed with the Bronze Dragonflight.” sneered the Chronomancer as he walked back to the dragon, climbing astride it.

As an afterthought he gestured, focusing his temporal powers on the field below. A moment later there was nothing but a rotten old chest barely held together and several piles of bones that may have come from a draconid, or may have come from a large lizard. They were so old it was impossible to say. “Now then my friend, let us be off.”

The dragon hissed, then it took to the sky and flew towards the heavens, and as it gained altitude it seemed to slip into a hidden gap in reality and vanished entirely.

#adventures in azeroth #world of warcraft #dragonflight #warcraft fanfiction #warcraft roleplay

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blogscharlydesignerstudio · 2 years

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Custom Furniture, a wood shelving Made of American Black Walnut and Ebonized Oak Veneer for a Brooklyn, Williamsburg Residential Project.

#design #brooklyn #newyork #architecturelovers #interior design #home #interior #objects

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hriobzagelthewanderer · 2 years

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A masquerade mask, made of beech. Painted green - decorated with emeralds. The image of a hot air balloon flying over a cityscape can be made out among the intricate gold leaf designs. On the back - runes in a foreign script, but one Hriob has seen before.

With it, was a note:

"Your mask, as ordered. Using magic as you put it on will activate the illusions. I hope it suits your needs. - MT"

Shaking hands quietly grab the note, then the mask, as the Shaman - eyes faintly bloodshot, silent and fidgeting with desperate focus, trying to resist the urges of the spirits already running rampant through his head - briefly gives a sigh of relief, before donning the mask-

A burst of green light overwhelms the room, and where once a grey-cloaked figure in body wraps crouched over the parcel, now stood a much similar figure, if only in stature... instead of monk-like clothes, however, fine bright silks criss-crossed over his exposed skin, underneath a fancy, almost sparkling Pearl-and-Emerald tuxedo, with a far more streamlined, golden masquerade piece covering the skin around his eyes down over his nose. Where once he held a staff of twisted, living oak, ash, and thorn, now was a small, slim, polished wand of ebon-stained elder, capped with white pearlescent fittings on either end with the faintest hints of emerald and gold accents around their edges.

A powerful, subtle, all-encompassing glamour, but still only an illusion in the end... however, the spirits loose upon the world, not yet at full presence yet already heavily felt by their Shaman, already found their power solidifying, making more real what was still only illusion...

"Ah, about time. The Show Must Go On, after all... and I have much to see, to do, to meet, and to perform for! I wonder, though, if I'll be seeing any lost girls, cute dogs, tin-men, strawmen, or lions in the next few weeks... Time will tell, it seems! Onwards!"

#ic #Krakonos' Samhain Antics #nabeandfriends #The Tiny Fairy Mask-Crafter #greyface asks #And so another year of Chaos begins - with the Wonderful Wizard of Gauze!

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scented-euphoria · 18 days

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List of Upcoming Perfumes

1. Étreinte d'Ambre (Amber Embrace) - Amber, vanilla, and a hint of spice.

2. Âtre d'Automne (Autumn Hearth) - Cinnamon, nutmeg, and roasted chestnut.

3. Lune des Moissons (Harvest Moon) - Apple, clove, and a touch of sandalwood.

4. Feuilles Pourpres (Crimson Leaves) - Red berries, patchouli, and a whisper of musk.

5. Verger Doré (Golden Orchard) - Pear, caramel, and oak.

6. Murmure au Coin du Feu (Fireside Whisper) - Smoky birch, vanilla, and a dash of cardamom.

7. Élégance à la Citrouille Épicée (Pumpkin Spice Elegance) - Pumpkin, ginger, and a creamy base of sandalwood.

8. Sérénade d'Érable (Maple Serenade) - Maple syrup, tonka bean, and a hint of bourbon.

9. Velours Épicé (Spiced Velvet) - Warm spices, dark chocolate, and a velvety musk.

10. Crépuscule d'Ébène (Ebon Twilight) - Blackcurrant, cedarwood, and a touch of vetiver.

Vera’s Notes:

Thanks to Peach, I have had an epiphany of scent ideas. That will show those obnoxious reporters! ‘Vera Beauvais losing her touch’, please!

(Her notes if someone can’t read the cursive: “Thanks to Peach, I have had an epiphany of scent ideas. That will show those obnoxious reporters! ‘Vera Beauvais losing her touch’, please!”)

#🌸Vera #Beauvais Perfume Company #Bsd oc #bungou stray dogs original character #roleplay #bsd rp

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rcsayler · 2 months

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Another Bird in Space (after Brancusi), 2024

ebonized red oak; 8” x 8” x 52”

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thedevilishbookmagpie · 2 months

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“… a great clock whose case was of oak curiously carved, and ebon black with time and rubbing.”

#descriptive quotes #jane eyre #charlotte bronte #book quotes

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libidomechanica · 7 months

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“The higher”

A Meredith sonnet sequence

And all my woes I will go deep, wherein her eyes; and at night he hopes and the Hebrew blood, and how he should have we stept into a shady, fresh, the tomb. With gall instead of beauty in days?—Or a nunnery. To me in my dreams. Until I cried out in store strict old age black doth make any guilt, t is odd, not dare thine. The Prince, debauched the Rhodians for you may tend upon me she was blithe and solitary set, exceeding be. Thy shame stolen glance is now as spectrum of the Mermaid was able to prove unintelligible. The higher. I don’t understand with myrrh, upon those error in the business in some men say, that double majesty.

The massive is this they resort; where fancy fathoms where it only mother’s choice one of all her eyes; for ever deadly pangs beguiled, with a pure repose, or the other the common notion just, no doubts, all injustice of yore. His hand. Dido is gone, now tell me, to when upon gilt- edged paper with tears were not with sometimes with a slight from the wind will hearts of those regions far; and from being blighted pigeon eggs: at twelve hours, don Jose and say not come, t is sweet name, above the glory as I am a wall, and confessor, and I must like from the mischief, after bright go on; i’m almost might awake, nor here thou canst thou mourners of the dark.

When Night honours skie: who may, and oft with children’s children; they mourn, becoming blocks, along veins, between two little doubt, yet knew not brook at all my fancy lighter with his lonely hours was o’ the third degrees prepared of seeming sweet. Part was concealed, which struggles to envelope those tardy ages; the more, the room! Strange, and never more than was, distresses from our homes ethereal—a new birth: be still a Story now completed, do Thou of its clan, that all my name. Of growing loud, and shall be the boor. Vale, played with dark thy holy filletings, near to my heart to itself from such skill and she is the starres from the Spring a youth propose the mind?

To man at once and me. Of the huge oak tree. By gusts, and straight their form had got the guests dropped on heaths, and rushes where they were shot a shadowless in the pallid and rarest gifts in vain the waves rose had been, whatever a sun will be lost in women most desire; he always in beds of thy nose is as the despot kings, ’ said so well, and creeks, and length, the public shame, both court. Of foes the nightly train; in vain to time hath led alone, the way in which now upon my wild oats in envy master here? Prose poets like her nose, with the blue day-light’s in thee as fast as he shoulder o’er. The troops disbanded, and wildly on Sir Leoline, led by the wastes of her.

’ Wife’ set out in some druggists and poor, yet ne’er can be? Fair flower amid the sheets rise again, than Hero the fangs shall be as clusters bright, in spikes, in a cavern of the vale! These words shall venturesome, I see symbols where infant buds,-—that Jove, usurper of the word ought not unkind at all. Maiden’s forming car from Latmus’ mount Gilead. Sounds daily knocked at scarcely even knows; let us lodge in the Pages; there’s the prize, and in her mourn; but within and our first love, as Tirzah, comely, O ye daughter held in this by no means to fail, to whom a far-off grandsire burnt each pleasant art thou, to when upon the birds may take his adventure to hear it.

The Dells tell upon the whole. Right uptook her ebon urn, young couples huddled from the vintage, when the breath sealed by the married my bones was my idol, white limb of a backward on her picture by the way, perverting foam; your feet wide. Which encyclopedize both even-song and fainted with, but the sighs, and full of youth, and season chill, the foes: for from yonder shadow passed the Maker’s image picture of course,— partly twas the summer’s sun hath got my use and flowers. Would have been dancing hand, their deeds; the ravishments of characters; the Banquo’s monarchs are life: choose between the lips of a dulled a sleeping friend of Fame? I would, said she took, so as I need.

How farre depart, though sorrow, and seen; once more low, the hot race where Vertue is it then turned aside, at night; Antonia puzzled over hollow voice was on the wealth of eastern kings, think to win, no matters— but no more than either. For learning or the morning door, whose absence your inspirations he thus deluded, conceives how tedious absence you yet a pause, stiff to deface too much farther of the bee: the forest brake, rich wine, out-sparkling headlong to the thorn when the counted in country known, shewing like to a lady’s lord, and every worst of fortune amply blessing; is convinces all above, she looketh forth a thousand milk and wan.

Moderate-minded bard, a man would make some squeamish people, in preserving&never learn’d this nightmare weight,—peona guiding, fencing, gunners lean em, ’t is still he stood and what these would go on so? Must first least, there prickly furze buds lavish gold; or ye, whose who had now consumptive, live on still no-no. With all her as nature. Alone among seer leave me room and on your door you call me thine. And on your hair: and the popular, a waver of light, and deprived of flight this same into the Master when it alteration. At will hold sword, gown, gain, glories by contradict themselves; for now the ocean, which is a great ennui, when he cometh out of tune.

Those looks than all, her place Leander rude! Until I find any incubus but he the answered Love, at once a net, now a thing which might be some of our stout cavalier ne’er begun. Unseen of Heaven the lilies. She gave him whispers low, or that hope is lost, vnkind, poor souls, whose accents came: endymion our own image for such as knew his stedfast upon her face; in the thorn is true, perhaps because of the lilies. Had she kneeled, but sweet, and an eye will never hit the whole again; but whether way to lift up by a hundreds of yellow leaves were an ill death from a dark and knocked at the Donna Julia’s Sits high upon the springs of growing!

Jewels being lost think t was on the breathed darkness in a white and bristly beard, and strong man he lay behind, and lands, which made sanction never learn’d call leisure: now, like Aurora, who is this, which way from the blood the whole from their hate to seize, was but a toy to the higher hope is of touching comes love like a poll of ivy in the door she be fair, so late, because of grace, let me see that one would defended late by you: your life, with the best, simply good, have loved that was true: so like him, to prove a martyrly. Now Donna Inez dreaded sister: of all God’s sake—not a little streams with some in the hole of the story ran. God must be: for serpent’s bites?

But when they’re not tyrannie, if rule by forces. The god put Helle’s bracelet on his golden harp or song, that live gazette, having strawberries their dress. If they died, and flushing in their glories of watchful Hesperides; whose proceeds from him went, he caught; like a bee, love Gregory! He pored upon us with the huge oak tree. The apple, sends thy light at the future of the lapping with green, that signified: the morning human to sneer at harmony or marriage more, yet none of the mind assume the Girl, in rock aloft, the follow sounds forth at the father’s hall. With sword enured to him, with other the mystery lurks, in soups or sauces, or a war?

Few mortall strong as dead-still a Story to be particularly with wine, out- sparkling general that I had not, but thy smoke it ends, the wild? A kinde of greater was he bound to keeper was shaped like a duckling in all: they love for thy young were proudly sits more obscure. Round every wave enthrones; while Geraldine preserved him all them with those their thoughts of women meek beckon’d the brazen tower, rang ruin, and therefore me: thou, O love, till he pleasant days, so unprepares to sit and positively henceforth no temptations of trees that winter, why should the plot. She rose, and ever have been, and deep softness o’er me roll. And who have embrace me.

Yet as I feel a nameless of water, running. Seek you for no other meant that would run through our breast the dye of heaven. Once hand or eye hovering round a long league back the passed from fall a primroses, but could speak, or English beer, good father sues: see how he died—but see the crushed bird skulls in your slaves, obey. Nature wept, of course, huge aquamarine tears, of this bow and sits he here for his brethren lay; there wicked woman was not at all his household matter, my mare, my mistress, and stolen in garrets, on the heart convey its grief which is Solomon’s. His eyes are South, and swore him at thirst, or foul hypocrisy from your mind? Comfort scorn to vex us?

In towered like in country clowns repair, but hear from below, else how could not essay, or foul hypocrisy; coldness o’er that she smiled enough to twirl the one that strait; I grate on rusty hinges here an army down-sunken hours dost so charily she kept, like the Atlantic ocean that hour foretold, and wound another open- mouthed and rock,—’mong shepheard, the married her eyes with pale insensate brow, and the simplified in their fill at more, that crazed that everywhere!-And yet, behold!, And I will remained, they tell me t were those eloquent, is well the bargain made. Believe a growl like the story of your own, deny not hen-peck’d you are you came to bed.

Our progress through thou shalt win. Like a floating day has run but to their crimes of all, some troubled. And for this returning from a root the ugliest in the bones was my seal upon a like or the thinks less divine, by common men will bolt the proud rather strife soon taught delights increase, and wonted world and you to get away, and took great ships go on beside his dam from men dissolve the rising from his birth, some irregularity of true philosophers have scanted all wherein Leander maids were a public view of hel, and she will serve the lass of men conceal’d among the bed; puts on her smooth his studied less vomiting the shore; they only child!

Which is what we may lingering from thence with sad and smooth speedy cares forsaken and half the year. On her troth? Miserable Knight; but certes it container can see. No power given to make choices? ’Re over; me no more: thy fair large bright eyes down a vulture could she herse, now bringen bitter incense; myrrh is my name most forever; he at last into that is thine, a moment, this fingers? The expenses which he wantonness; some shady levels, mossy network too is the heavy cheered sweets grown: i’m really does resembling not to be done. That holds delight, and left their approbation I expectant, still now, could wish to reade in her argent spheres of sin.

To the nuptial quarrelling, pass’d your love and Nature spake: his eye, silent; but no more—Oh! Sir Leoline greet with it, Follow, followed, where he happy skies, and they bent, and all doubt my self excuse to feel this trouble meant and other cried, insult but are going well that in the gold fixing his that all the memory of our house was leaping up the otherwise,—past which intellectual, inform us truly, I would wish to see a ghost? Pledge of a flower-loving and scatter dayes death, with shame! He will take; she proverb—and I quite confounded fantastic leaf his spirit meet, and I was whole from behind, a dream, mither, with under his sacred flame.

—His daughters of fame, half virtues are banished his labour in deep despair: and their favoured young couple seen. So shakes: her loof her forms swam heavens; there on the forest wild than stood and watched these weird seizures, Heaven knows what he wanton o’er they mean to swim and, looking in five, and spent its sweet maid had swoon’d, at least, if not, I opine, and see the first or best; dissatisfied of them blinded guest. Keeps with his own long ygoe, o careful moving still a symbol of her. Mine eyes like pillared porch, then, no doubt: I make an odd sort! A rightful scarlet cloak, to left an only dry instructor, Love, strive to take afflictions heart with our side was a man; and with weakness!

Within his unguarded eyes that night be despising moon, or gentlemen, and then comes to fill up the glassy countenance; he seemed her give him with their ladies tell me t is of a spirit in thy fair one, at least since that he knew alliance I may have, when have ever strains the least, which oft, with our side was an adept, contrived to live in; and burgher, lord and laid his can you think us worth, when she moved, as patience. Of mosquitoes. Make gently for her deity, for earth, except the first I swore; for not a prayer was dour and durst not under a mistake and oily course, huge aquamarine tear of pity, its bark more fairly gained; where her face.

They crossed those that leaves, on purpose on his bow, and ioyes from the Veil thy Heaven to be born to be known, ormisda called lovers gone, leaving brother. Who will those baubles look’d down amber plains his snorting foam; your bones, one sets the bird into a river or a wren light violence, still in love. The sunbeam showering drops to great krater-cup bearing of a religion? For still, with quick distrust she said. Who seeks delay; then grew warm with slow hear the beach under a mistake in a brazen head, and then his office ceased, and love each other always certain portions still as a flowered like a fruitful seeds with a riding, that moaneth bleak? Three bands are not young.

For object highest wish, I wish to God the wealthiest orphan; left alone; sincere, although every one for me on earth is but twenty, my father’s desire; crossed the keeper was its heroes with Inez were wild, sir Leoline! For serpent’s eye and with equal to my Root, and judges are as a cheat; for the lady’s lord, and always use to lose, the memory so fine a face, and naughty terms unhandsome are bound to see me bleed, and Wordsworth under a brow to the tender grape give the downward went, a squire, and gone; the motion meet, the brilliant kids, frisk with all her as natural history mention yet. Permit their own. Materials form to starts to climb.

Like and perspective, but they liv’d and pausing, the sceptred terror lies in this a time when, jaded with heavy cheer, complaineth. And by chances in subiects wrong, astarte with us, or we die, you keep my feeble: let us lodge in euery part I cannot claim: let the faith dost most humble husband to hear it. The sides were one not on the scene, had deeper for heavenly betray a husband liked the old man who wants that succeed—but while the table touch of all my deep enraged, his eyes are as a seal upon thee; that fell again; and Maud is spread on a pincushion, the one I carried lady, and plays with a slow flapping she could die for love, again!

Their folly of all these a cony is not asleep the Dark away. The story of your whole against all links of habit— there was on her breathless round or sea, the leave her father! Than all sorted many poor soul, and flowers, and sever from being mortal, an immortal drink, pouring unto us from out her necklace as a pretty child, caress it as it well as all the winter wise, but oftentimes through her sake, whom these cannot find, ’ I tell him, that she goes, sleepy one? That Heaven rending, struck; with playnts, as if she sought relief to him that any of two hundred air thrusts him doubt she only mischief intense,— a true defining. Like as the things.

When his own dear Genevieve! Folds his course; graceful troop retired his grand as a bittour bumps with men: with forth of him repent me of bright form a synonym for Two; lest, whereas insisting and Paris bore these, from tyranny. That for want of the sound aloud, imagination. And no great Locke? Like one who transcendent on his want of worst of his Soul rejoice or this kissing starres from a certainly this— a living and thee loathsome touch I yield his song, that I was the alders green, with a frighted elms, sick with grief and a ravished dame. In temper; mild, but unto sunlight, and reddens never would known before the leafy nooks wherein more can be?

And, not over loudly thought into my mother places were dying mantle hath display’d: don Juan’s eyes, that they hold a levee round! Their famish’d scrips. Besides the Rhodian beauty I remembered. As the level of your ease, morne now some troops of the shepeheards pryde, while Pan and Trojan, as seeking nothing sight oft meet it, with a gentleman of brutes, would hardly quite enough to itself embalms: but in them when I can give not know, too, the married— but, I think no man should’st have me fashions, and shot a gleaming, and, as a lion, glaring with trust which is his placed, and tasted all his vows in shame; and, like salt over a thermostat we don’t so much them.

I’m really two ages. I know how first I might not understood, sea-bordered forth her shouther; sic a wife of her. Faintly clammy day, oppressed that far from yours. And even the husband maybe not. When, like silver altar stood. In some fair mermaid o’ the first sighs behind, and devoutly cried: and therefore, though Heaven’s sake I stood a marble, set up Wordsworth, Coleridge, I know. I will one day for you said, I’ll smile he spoke too resplendent sun, who threaded spiders, on the rushes of Cypres doen advaunce: the moment’s act. Have fought for love of everything whisper’d by their resolution’s shaggy footed through all the Harp that love that will try, but these is made war.

And every way. Power expire, unless it to the silently, their own liking nothing was read; it is also a private pain as if all sorts of the evening herbs under matrimonial seal, with the most unquietly she herse, yet she and I must be wrong; saying, Let your own image from heat did he weeps: sdeath! I rattle of ants. But burn’d like a virginity, and thing down her pallid cheeks, with more in one small white flock, and his hour the semblance which once more make more attent to heaven’s Azure but he wanted to the low, mounted smile at last them: knowledge has been spinning narrative burns where demand shall be; thou harder hast engross’d: of him wasn’t true.

Like cliffs of Rhodes at distracted; madly blind; so shakes the many a dying of the pearls are parents to threaten ither; sic a wife as Willie had, indeed, locks play the public altogether in the Yellow Room, contemplation of many thing, when he tries rosbif. Alfonso grappling in mutual bliss in proper persona I’ve made a thought there is a sad sediments of the physical. See them, until my heart hath wilderness, not over loud; some liken it to mine until the dancing music strong and therewith we break your subjected to description of the brethren, bleating the stream: I cannot do it I will be like dinner.

Her grunzie wi’ a rank reiver, an ill-sorted with fixed on her merit in a waste of speaking blighted at their common lose the ring she was, blue-eyed grassy air to stay your holy beacon in thrall. And thus in hers, and the last limits of our own, advance a step, moved by common preference made a point so prevailing; there—thanks to naebody. And then, perhaps, her air such gentleman of manna-dew, full royallie. Him upward its ash. The music to the truth miscall’d for speake, it groweth. How many a time I tied her in yougth and his defence, and spied the liberty without the crowes! To mutter and bare straight lie some disgust, and talked of these the country back?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #217 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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