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#tempest looking RABID
yandere-wishes · 4 months
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✮ Yandere! Boothill x Reader
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Plot: There's a slick black-clad little gal who's been messing with his bounties recently. Boothill's been dying to rustle her up and take a bite
⁀➷ Warnings: Yandere behavior, blood, and gore, war trauma, Genie trying to do a cowboy accent.
⁺₊𝄞₊⁺: Crimson and Clover by Joan Jett
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And I don't hardly know her,
But I think I can love her,
Ah, now when she comes walking over,
I've been waiting to show her,
My mind's such a sweet thing
I want to do everything
What a beautiful feeling
It's not like the movies, they fed us on little white lies.
~💜
The first time he sees you there's a tempest of bullets rattling off his chest. Metal singing metal, as shells vie for an opening. It's all very lethal,
like the center of a rabid dust storm. Kissing death and sucking in her poison. Boothill can't tell where the bullets are coming from only that there's a dozen at a time ringing over his head. He shields his face with the metal of his forearms peaking through the gap to catch a glimpse of black.
Pure black.
That's the first thing he notices as your frenzy yields, You're clad in black from head to toe, even going so far as to dawn an eerie familiar mask. He's seen this scene play out somewhere before, he just can't remember where. "Morning mister", he likes that voice, jejune and teeming with confidence. It reminds him of himself, back when the sunset used to mean something and he could still feel wheat stocks under his soft palms.
"Howdy lil'lady I reckon you're in my way. Mind stepping aside before you get yourself hurt?" Your answer comes in the form of an aimed pistol, spine straight, midnight serape caught on the wind. He thinks you look a little too much like the folks back home -back when there was a home- blood boiling over eager for a fight. His bounty is standing just over yonder, blocked partly by your stubborn shadow. Boothill doesn't think twice before firing two rounds.
He's met with four...
He's in a cheap motel on Penacony, screwing in bolts that came loose. In the end, you laid claim to his bounty. Dragging him away to the hills. He's left growling at the thought, bested by a muddle-fudging fox. Lil gal probably ain't never even been in a proper shoot-out. The screwdriver cracks under his metal fingers. Boothill ain't about to start letting some pretty little thing get in the way of him and his targets.
The TV screen flickers to a melancholy monochrome. The films are old, distorted, crippled in parts. But he keeps them around, much like everything else about him, it's a bygone thing refusing to die.
He still likes to play them from time to time, trying to elicit the tastes of home. Hearing Nick and Graey setting plates out for dinner as his siblings rush downstairs. The movies are older than the new universe in more ways than one.
They come from a simpler time.
He'd always wondered why someone would bother painting such precious things in black and white. Spilling melancholia into picture frames, leaving everything tasting of vodka and vanilla.
It doesn't matter though, not really. All that matters is the sound of hooves on sand and bullets shooting. So long as the cowboys live their stories, everything else can be forgiven.
But this time something's off. The bandit's black mask shines through, gleaming something awful making him grind his sharp teeth. That damn mask, sitting pretty over a sly smirk. it reminds him of you, little cutie with your slick attitude. What bandit goes around doing hero's work anyway? What kinda twisted little lady are you?
He's getting mighty sick of this. Do you think you own the universe or something? "Been seeing way too much of you lately." There's sand in his Synesthesia Beacon his voice coming out horse, brittle. He kicks the head of an IPC lackey trying to drive home a point. "You getting on my nerves cutie". The ground looks nothing short of a graveyard, bodies scattered some piled. The blood paints the sands in a deep maroon, reflecting the glint of the distant stars. The last soldier is cowering behind you, his whimpers singing in Boothill's ears, one more bullet, that's all it'll take. "This one's mine" you mutter, and he wonders for a moment if the dry weather is getting to you too. "Not a chance pumpkin" his gun's drawn, firing bullets before you can even feel for your holster. The smirking bullet impales your abdomen, aimed point blank at the officer's head. But before the last body can be claimed you kick the man out of the way.
"Damn it" Boothill's anger is tangible, he knows you can feel it between your teeth. He's going to kill you, tear off that star-saken mask, and riddle you with bullets. You're getting too confident.
He doesn't notice your bullets at first. Protostars trying to act all rough and mighty. There's a temporary cluster of dust, a fraction of a second where his eyes aren't pinning you down. That's all it takes and then you're off. Sinking into the darkness and swimming away, taking his target with you.
It's only after the initial anger wears off that Boothill notices a tear on his thigh. A letter scrawled on the frayed leather of his pants. So you've started leaving your own marks, ay cutie?
He almost wishes he could feel the sting of your blade on his flesh. Feel your nails scrapping along his shoulders as he pins you to the ground.
Boothill fires at the moon.
Next time.
Next time for sure....
He's been chasing you for some time now. But catching up with you isn't as easy as he first thought. Seems like you go wherever the wind takes you and he's too busy with revenge to be following your capricious whims. The IPC ain't going to kill itself you know. And Boothill damn well wishes you'd start sitting still. He's heard from a reliable source that the IPC soldiers are throwing a little get to together down in one of the bars. Just a happy birthday for a colleague, nothing fancy. The thought alone makes his mouth water, place will be crawling with pests just waiting to be gunned down. Maybe tomorrow he'll try looking for you again, but tonight? Tonight's his night.
The neons have dulled now, they never were terribly bright to begin with. Penacony may be the land of dreams but not even dreams can stop reality from seeping through. The bar's loud, some new pop singer's music blasting from every speaker. Boothill downs his drink, liking how the ice cubes chime like a bad omen. He shoots the speakers first, needing some peace to focus on what comes next. The peace corp's lackeys are drunk, they stumble over themselves trying to reach him. He shoots each one like a kid playing carnival games. It's almost too easy...
The door is stampeded over by a heard of reinforcements. Somehow even in his drunken daze one of those yella-bellied lapdogs called for help. They're swarming the place like panicked rats, pushing past tables and chairs. Firearms aimed at his head. And for the first time, in a long, long time, Boothill feels a sliver of panic run down his bionic spine.
Motherfudger...
Boothill hears the familiar tumult of bodies hitting the ground before he sees what's actually going on. He feels you before he actually sees you. You're pushed up against his back, guns drawn locked, and loaded. "Heard you needed some help" Even though you offer your usual bravado, Boothill still picks up the nervous lilt in your voice, despite everything he thinks he likes it. It almost tastes sweet. "Best get away before you get yourself hurt little fox." "And let you have all the fun? Never."
"Certe murmur pugnando" Boothill laughs, he remembers those very words coming from a buddy of his before a duel. 'At least we'll die fighting' Somethings never change, even if you've carved out every principle from your body with a rusted kitchen knife. You'll always have those pesky morals stuck inside. He hears you chuckle, wonders if you find it odd that a rowdy galaxy ranger such as himself knows a dead language.
Well, he knows a lot about the dead.
The shoot-out lasts longer than he'd have expected.
But the real surprise lies in how neither of you are dead. Boothill's half laid across the bar, looking at you from under his hat. You're making him a drink following his instruction like a good little wife, not contradiction dressed in ebony. Gunpowder withers on his tongue, the bullet smoke permeates the air mixing with the gleeful tang of spilled blood. "Your drinks sure are complicated" you mutter pushing him his cup before picking up a bottle and reading its labels. "What's so hard about it pumpkin? Little bit of white gem and gin. All's you need." He sips your drink slowly, savoring your flavor. He imagines he's gulping you down, holding you for ransom behind his teeth, feeling your delicate little fists pounding against him. "I don't drink" you mumble as you sit across from him, you look so damn elegant, like a little princess from a fairy tale he use to read to a certain someone. You drink deeply from your glass of ice and water. Boothill focuses on the gentle motion of your throat. He licks his lips, trying to push down the thought of ringing such a fragile thing between his palms.
"So little lady, s'about time you start answering some questions...The hell you doing? Running off with my targets?" You set your cup down, eyes locking on his, there's the deficiency he's missed all night. The trigger hair that's just waiting for the right push. "They're not your targets...not really. They're just people. People whose planet got muffed up. I've been trying to gather them all in one place." For a second Boothill thinks you're talking about his planet, his home, his people. But it only takes one more look at you to understand.
"So, how'd yours die?" There's shrapnel in his throat when he asks, open wounds bleeding once more, filling his throat with bitter memories.
You stiffen, and he knows he's thumbing a broken bone, letting his finger dig between the cracks and snapping their frail linings. "Don't know, wasn't there. All I ever got to see were a few limbs, nothing enough to make a full person." you squeeze the glass until your knuckles turn white.
There's vindication rooted in your veins.
He knows the feeling all too well.
"We ain't so different you and I, reckon we make a pretty good team." His metal fingers lace between your soft skin, tracing the lifelines like an old map.
There's a goldmine hidden behind your lips, he imagines he'll have to kiss you to find the little nuggets. Your lips part, eyes filled with an odd-looking sympathy. What he wouldn't give to feel your plump lips bleed between his jagged teeth. "So..." you ask as his mechanic heart skips a beat. "What about yours?"
You've been laughing for five whole minutes. Boothill shouldn't find the noise as ethereal as he does. His anger lays heavily on his bones, he should be even angrier, lounging a bullet through your thick skull. But he finds the noise a little too perfect to disturb its source. Even if it's only created at his expense. Instead, he has half a mind to slap you, hard enough to shut you u and another to kiss you so hard you forget to breathe. "Damn hell so funny, cutie"
You look at him with those luminous eyes. Filled with pain and riddles. Boothill never did like solving puzzles. He only likes tearing things into bits. He needs you spartan, easy to read and use, and kiss. Not something he needs to piece together first.
"Dear stars you have no freaking idea how ironic you are." You say between bursts of spiteful-rooted giggles.
Why do those words sound so haunting like a ghost kiss? they should open phantom pains, but they sure as hell don't. Why do you always leave his head spinning? Boothill rolls his eyes, then leans over to pull down your mask. You jerk back, rewarding him with a dark grimace. You're out the window before he can ask your name.
"See you next time, cowboy"
"Next time I'm drawing blood"
The moment's over.
Fiddlesticks..
That night, Boothill dreams of you. He's lying in a stiff musty bed. It's too dark, even the moon is scared of showing her face.
Boothill dreams of the old saloons back home. Of their cracked wooden floorboards and the worn-out plush of chairs. In the dreams, you're wearing a black lace gown, like the saloon girls used to. He finds it all too funny that even in his dreams you still haunt him in black. Only now you're smiling, really smiling. Not that sly smirk, or mirthless grin you gave him back in the bar on Penacony. No, this here is a genuine smile and he's damn sure he's the one who put it there. You reach out for his hand, he feels warmth.
His
Yours
The dream is thick and dense like swimming through molasses. In another scene he's dragging you through the old doors, laughing as bullets and card chips hit the floor. There's a horse waiting outside. His horse. At least he thinks it used to be his. He pulls you up roughly in front of him. He's high off the feeling of his fingers wrapped around the rugged reins. High off the steed he holds in a vice grip between his thighs.
He's riding faster than he's ever ridden before, clambering for the sunset trying to engulf the sun. You hold on tight, pressing your cheek to his chest. His heart is beating something fierce between his ribs. He feels like an Aeon watching the universe collapse under his galloping feet.
He feels alive.
With the sun's rays behind you, Boothill could almost mistake you for the star-dwelling angels Nick used to tell him about. There's something poetic in all of this. The cowboy standing off against the black fox.
Dare he call it cinematic?
Boothill creeps closer. Tilting his hat and watching you flash a nervous smile through his lashes. "Volo sentire te inter dentes meos" so you know that dead tongue too. "You will soon darling, that's what I'm hoping for" his reply only dwindles your smile.
He's missed the old duels. Missed staring into the eyes of the one who could kill you. It's all a matter of skill and luck. Whose faster, who the aeon will trust?
Somewhere in the distance, the tumble weeds begin to rattle.
"Now"
His bullet glides through the air, piercing through the dust and sand. Your bullet reverberates from your gun a fraction too late and ricochets past his cheek. Leaving a juicy trail of blood.
But his bullet was aimed at your chest.
And Boothill never misses...
You want vengeance he won't deny you it.
So long as you stay by his side.
He'll tuck you away somewhere safe.
Somewhere you won't be leaving him again.
Boothill cradles your body to his chest. "I promised you blood little fox, and Boothill never goes back on his word." His cheeks hurt from smiling as he lays his hat atop your head. He's Picking you up and walking into the sunset. He knows a good ol'doc who'll patch you right up. And then it's a happy life together.
Well for him anyway.
The end
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Taglist: @hihellomy @salhanskkdbfkekfb @gasoline-eater @sp1cym0chi
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nothingxs · 19 days
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FFXIV Write // Tempest
It was raining that night, too.
Everything had been happening too fast. "Bozja is not somewhere people should go for glory," her master had told her later. But at the time, they didn't know any better. They had seen success after success. Perhaps not the most glorious of wins, but they had survived. Time and time again.
They felt galvanized. Infallible. Even as their previous sortie to Ghimlyt had endeavored to remind them that they were anything but.
The Empire had struck in the middle of the night. The camp was in disarray as members of the IVth Legion spilled forth, followed by their automated magitek creations opening fire upon the scattered, fleeing ranks. Celica ran, sword and shield in hand, cutting down attackers as best she could to try and buy others more time, even as the heavy rain turned the ground into muck and matted her hair to her forehead, caked in mud and blood. She screamed until she couldn't anymore, calling for the platoon to retreat, desperately seeking cover from the Empire's cannons and gunfire.
Their platoon had scattered through the night, many struggling to make their way through the southern entrenchments to the safety of Utya's Aegis to find succor. Old Bozja was a mess of ruins and hostile *things*, and escape was made only more difficult by the flooded terrain and the risk that any part of it might fall at any given moment, rocked by cannonfire.
She could hear others dying around her amidst the heavy rainfall, but she could not see them in the dark.
She knew there was nothing she could do but run.
She had eventually managed to make it back to the Aegis. Safe now, under the cover of the Magitek barrier that protected them from Imperial assault. With her were the few soldiers she could find, gathering them to help ease their way back. She ran into the tent, looking for her friends. Her heart swelled with relief upon finding Nenera among the people who had returned, the two colliding into each other's arms and sharing a moment with each other before Celica asked,
"Where are the others?"
...
It was raining that night, too.
The night after the breach of Lacus Litore. Where she'd fought like a rabid animal, in a hurry to save her friends from their fate at the IVth legion. The night after that successful campaign, once again spearheaded by the *one*.
The hero. The one who made miracles into reality. The one who survived the meteor.
The bodies had been collected and brought in. Identified. Tagged.
Nenera was inconsolable, her small frame overcome with grief at the terrible sight of what the IVth legion had done to them.
Celica could only stand there, eyes unfocused. Distant. The moment seemed so unreal. They had shared laughter less than a sennight ago. Ilysa had told another of her absurd stories. Renolt had goaded her and played along, all while Dameron continued to decry the absurdity of them. Nenera, smiling, eating quietly, leaning on her side.
They lay now, cold, still. Barely recognizable.
Nenera wept and clung to Celica's side, fists clenched so hard her nails threatened to pierce her own skin.
And Celica could only stand there, wondering where it had all gone wrong.
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... It was raining that night, too.
When she had walked up to the front door of Dameron's home to speak to his family.
When she could only stand there, outside of their door. Eyes unfocused. Distant. As his father hurled insult after insult at her for her irresponsibility. For making them dream of something that they were not. For making them think they could be heroes.
He wondered why she hadn't died with them.
Maybe she should have.
...
It was raining that night, too.
When she held Nenera's cold body in her hands, smaller than it had ever seemed, after Nenera's struggles with her guilt and pain had overwhelmed what little will she had left.
...
She sat, slouched over onto herself, on the back of a chocobo-drawn carriage headed from Ishgard down to Ul'dah. A bottle of cheap liquor dangled from her hand, lazily hanging between her thighs, her clouded gaze focusing on nothing. A heavy blanket laid atop her frame.
She faded in and out of sleep, huddled up against crates of goods, until something disturbed her sleep. The sound of an arrow embedding itself into the cart.
A small group of bandits. From what she could tell, no more than three had approached the merchant leading the cart. Perhaps more in the bush. They were likely in the Shroud, given what she could see through the slits in the tarp covering the back.
She reached to grasp at her longsword.
So this is all there is, then.
It was raining.
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chibkaburagi · 1 year
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{ Last Man Standing }
Warning 18+ NSFW ~ Ithaqua x Reader
_____________《✧》_____________
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Summary : Your the last survivor and your searching for the dungeon because theirs 2 remaining ciphers that your to lazy to decipher _____________《✧》_____________
2 ciphers still remaining as you frantically explore the hospital grounds for the dungeon whereabouts. As you do Ithaqua trails behind you his distance inching closer and closer towards you. hoping to gain some distance you quickly vault over the windows and shelter yourself behind the nearby walls to avoid his tempest surge. "It's just you and me now, why keep running?" he asks aloud. A strong wind surge slams your body into Ithaqua's as you struggle to respond. He rapidly grabs your body in front of him with his free hand and blocks your chest with his icy axe in order to prevent you from moving. "What are you going to do in this situation?" With a sly grin, he adds. You can hear his words fall from over your head, and you can feel his strong gaze towering your vulnerable body. "Wait! Please spare me; I'll do anything you want!" You pleaded, still terrified by being so close to him. "anything that I want, aren't you amusing for such a timid person?" Okay, if you really want to be spared, let's test if your body can hold out till the end." He says, getting in close and whispering, You could hear him with a sneaky smirk on his lips. He swiftly turns your body around facing him, one hand holding you and the other dropping his axe to cradle you. "So, what do you think? Should I continue ?" He drew Y/N's body closer to him, clutching your waist forcefully yet softly. Your lips part and then shut again, yet you still react with a definite nod. As he waits for you to indicate that you want to continue, he gently teases your body. Soft wimpers leave your lips as he pokes your nipples with his long slender hands while you stare at him yearningly. He returns your gaze while quietly chuckling at your lustful expression. "You look like a hungry puppy, what is it you crave?" he asks softly in your ear. Your eyes narrow as you become more yearnful. "Please screw me, Fuck me so hard I can't leave without you," You say while wrapping your arms around his shoulders and grinding into him. On his stilts, he effortlessly balances you still keeping himself up aswell as you. He lowers your underwear down to your knees, rubbing beneath you skilfully and pleasurably. Soft moans could be heard as you try to muffle your wimpers against the fabric of his clothing. He gently spreads you open, placing his tip slowly for a second before abruptly slamming down and fucking Y/N quickly "Ah F-fuck So quick!?" You're already out of breath. Ithaqua rams his cock into you, causing it to penetrate deeply. He groans aggressively, like a rabid dog. "You desired this. "You're not going anywhere while I'm here," he adds with a deep growl that penetrates you deep down as you both climax repeatedly. A wave of ecstasy overtakes you both as you continue to fuck until the point where you can't keep track of how many times you've done it. But the want for more is still there as you move your hips on your own in deprivation. Cum oozes down your thighs as both of your bodies swing together, the overstimulated region twitches creating a spasm, leading you to clutch Ithaqua tightly. as you uncontrollably flinch. There's no way you're leaving unless you crawl.
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childotkw · 1 year
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Okay so hear me out the I know you had an idea for another au combining listening ears and the one where Neville pushes Draco off a cliff (I can’t remember the name). But I put Voldemort as being alive at the beginning like in the Four Houses AU (is that the name?) but what if he was dead and it followed the resurrection arc like in Listening Ears but when Voldemort is brought back there are these four absolutely mad lads ready to murder for each other and an over protective Slytherin house. And all of 1st year he just would like his spy (gossip) network to work more efficiently pls and thank you.
The Four Agreements? If I went Voldemort as a Dark Lord rather than the DADA professor?
Oof yeah, if Voldemort got resurrected in that one, after the fuckery that was the tournament and dragging Harry into it - Ron, Hermione and Neville would go rabid.
Harry in Slytherin as the champion would cause massive waves through the school in general, with the prejudice against Slytherin exploding, but god help anyone who tries to insult Harry around Ron, Hermione or Neville.
When Harry comes back (with no Cedric death because ambitious little Harry would have carved his way to the maze centre without running into anyone else and snatch up the goblet immediately), he's smart enough not to start screaming about Voldemort being back even while in the grips of shock.
He doesn't tell Dumbledore, he doesn't tell Snape, or the medics or any authority figure because they've never done anything to help him before so why should he tell them the truth now when he knows how the wizarding world reacts to news they don't want to hear? He's just spent a year getting the absolute shit kicked out of him by the media. If he proclaims that Voldemort is back? Yeah nah, Harry can see where that would go.
So he doesn't tell anyone accept his friends, the ones he knows he can trust because they stuck by him through months of absolute insanity (Neville in particular has been vicious in his defence). And you know what? His mates believe him, because of course they do.
And Harry might be looking away from them, staring out the window of the small abandoned classroom they meet in, but he can feel the weight of their eyes on his back. He can feel their anger, their fear - for him, not of Voldemort - and he knows they'll support him when he turns around and lays out his plan to stop a Dark Lord.
Voldemort, for his part, is...intrigued. He knew Harry Potter was a Slytherin from his time with Quirrell. He knew the boy was less 'obedient puppet' and more 'raging uncontrollable tempest', but even he couldn't predict that Potter wouldn't go running to Dumbledore the moment he escaped the graveyard.
But there's nothing in the media about his return, or even anything denouncing Potter as crazy for suggesting such a thing.
It's too quiet, and he doesn't like that at all.
When the next year starts and information starts filtering through the Slytherin students to their parents, Voldemort can't help but think that he's underestimated his opponent.
When they get to the end of the year, and the war kicks off, and Harry Potter and his three closest companions apparently vanish, he grows a little more concerned. Because in the dreams he and Potter share sometimes, the brat seems worryingly assured of his own victory. He looks at Voldemort like he knows his every weakness.
Which was preposterous (but maybe he should check on his horcruxes just to be sure??)
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roguelioness · 2 years
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no time for the sacred
Fandom: FFXIV Pairing: Alyzen Kaide + Zenos yae Galvus Rating: T (mild violence) Words: 1671
(Read on ao3)
Sleep is a luxury denied to her.
Alyzen paces around the confines of the broken aetheryte in the House of the Fierce, careful not to disturb the many sleeping occupants in the next room. Around her, the night is still and calm, a sharp, stark contrast to the tempest roiling in her chest.
Her muscles still ache from that failed assassination attempt. Her legs wear bruises, each yellow-green patch a symbol of her failure. 
It doesn’t feel like a failure now, not after– Blue eyes that saw through the core of her. Oh, how right I was to spare your life.
Her fingers twitch, curl into her palm as through wrapping around an imaginary hilt. There’s a buzzing beneath her skin, an itching, a rabid–
she exhales angrily, jaw clenched
– a rabid beast in the pit of her stomach and it yearns for violence in this dead of night.
But she can’t feed it. Shouldn’t. She’s the Warrior of Light. She should be–
Lips curled up into a mockery of a smile, gleefully, maliciously delighted. For the rush of blood, for the time between the seconds.
Her feet move before she’s aware, take her to her neatly arranged bedroll. Her weapons, cleaned and polished and ready for use, lie in a soldierly line for her to pick from. Alyzen ignores her bow, ignores her glaives, the entirety of her focus on two wickedly sharp, curved daggers. She’s not very good with them, not yet, but they call to her. She can picture how well Zenos’ throat would fit in the conclave of that blade, and it makes an appealing picture.
For the sole pleasure left to me in this empty, ephemeral world – live!
She nods to the guard by the doorway. “I will be back soon,” she says, “I need some fresh air.”
“Be careful, warrior. There are garlean patrols around.”
“I will,” she promises with a little smile, a bitterness on her tongue at the use of her title and not her name.
A soft breeze flows through the verdant landscape, the scent of star jasmine and honeysuckle heavy in the air. Aly’s still restless as she meanders around without a destination in mind. There are predators in the far distance, Yanxia’s famous rainbow tigers; she could hunt them, but that idea holds little appeal.
No, she wants a fight. She wants that rush - of adrenaline, of blood, of dancing on that razor’s edge of life and death. Distantly, she knows this isn’t a healthy way of thinking – but her veins are clogged with a brutality that must be unleashed; it’s been eating away at her and it will continue to consume her unless she finds an outlet–
The fine hairs on the nape of her neck prickle.
She’s being followed.
Her blood thrills; she is both predator and prey, she is going to– find herself blocked in by a tall, sheer cliff.
Alyzen huffs, a sound of disgust. How many times has Yugiri told her to be more aware of her surroundings?
“It seems you’ve trapped yourself, my beast.”
She stiffens, every muscle so tense there’s every chance she’ll shred a tendon if she moves. Her heart skips a beat, then starts to race, pounding against the cage of her ribs, drumming out a savage rhythm. Turning on her heel – slow, so slow, on hand on the hilt of her blade, the other clenched into a fist – she faces him at last, mouth set in a snarl, teeth bared, looking every inch the beast he thought her as.
Zenos, to her surprise, is not in his armor. He towers over her in a simple shirt and breeches, that massive contraption that held his swords swapped out for a single katana. His broad, imposing frame blocks out the moonlight and casts her in shadow; his gaze is almost a physical burn as they rake over her, leaving crackling embers in their wake.
He will turn her into wildfire, she knows it. Her blood hums with anticipation, the metal of her dagger vibrating with impatience in its sheath.
For a moment, they stare at each other, waiting. She has the disadvantage here, she knows; there’s a wall to her back, and the only way out is through him – if he deigns to permit her departure. But from the pleased curve of his lips, the delight in those cyan eyes, she does not think he will let her go without a fight.
Which suits her just fine. 
She’d like to see him bleed. For Y’shtola. For Yugiri.
For me, a small voice whispers gleefully. I am the only one who can pull crimson from that skin.
He arches a brow. It is a clear invitation, but she doesn’t take it, instead responding with a tilt of her head.
Zenos frowns, and it’s when that perfect brow is marred by furrows that she strikes.
The clash of metal against metal is loud in the silence of the night, and it echoes against the stone walls surrounding them. Alyzen pulls away before the tip of his sword can reach her, dropping to her haunches and slicing upwards in a fluid motion, a grunt falling from her lips as her daggers rip through cloth. When she climbs back to her feet, she’s pleased – in a satisfied, almost possessive way – to find a thin wound across his abdomen, his blood staining the no-longer-pristine tunic.
Zenos touches his fingers to it, examines his blood in the pearlescent light of the moon.
And laughs, delight and mania both prevalent in the sound.
It doesn’t scare Aly. It inflames her blood, makes her want to snarl so she does, a low growl pouring from her throat.
“Good, good,” he praises – it’s so wrong but the sound of his voice rolls through her, soothing those frayed edges of the brute that lurks beneath her skin.
They clash again, over and over. His blade kisses her shoulder, her waist, the back of her thigh. Her dagger caresses his arm, the broad expanse of his back; she tries to return the affection he’d given her shoulder but is thwarted, the edge of her blade meeting the edge of his sword, both metals copiously coated in carmine. The scent of copper is heavy in the space between them; when her gaze meets his, his eyes are so vibrant, so alive, so happy; she can feel his pleasure for it burbles within her.
When he drops his blade from their impasse, she dances out of its swinging arc, and he hums with elation. She twists around, her front to his back, raises her blade to strike. He catches her wrist with his hand, pulls her into his line of sight; his grip is tight, painfully so, his nails digging into the scars left by Nidhogg. She squirms, tries to pull herself out of his hold, but he shushes her, his thumb running over the smooth, raised edge of the scar.
His examination is too intimate, reminding her of that confrontation, reminding her of how hard she’d fought to save Estinien, and how he’d abandoned her without a word. It’s too private, too personal, it’s not meant for him – but he strokes them like they’re a precious thing, like a prized jewel, and it’s infuriating. Alyzen gnashes her teeth at him, tugging with enough force to dislocate her shoulder; Zenos lets go before she can injure herself. The look he gives her is thoughtful, appraising; it’s like he’s seeing into the heart of her and she doesn’t want that – can’t have that – and with a frustrated, strangled yell she launches herself at him, wanting to strike him down for the audacity of being the sole person who can understand the fervor in her flesh– clinging onto him like a burr, she bites down onto his shoulder, blunt teeth cutting through his skin, his blood flooding into her mouth, staining her lips and teeth.
Zenos grunts, drags her off him and flings her against the stone cliff. Alyzen yelps soundlessly as the jagged rockface digs into her, the action having knocked all breath out of her lungs. His blade at her throat – that sharp edge pressed against her skin, so ready, so eager, to draw blood – keeps her still.
She licks her lips, gathering up his blood, and spits it at his feet. “Go ahead,” she taunts. “What are you waiting for?” The rational, cautious part of her mind is screeching in alarm, that provoking him is a terrible idea, that she has obligations and duties to fulfill, that she can’t afford to be so reckless with her life – but that voice recedes into the background when she meets his gaze.
Zenos looks positively enchanted.
Blade still at her throat, he reaches out to grab her hair, twining fingers into her cropped locks to tug her head back. The action pushes her throat into his sword, and she can feel the sting as the edge leaves a cut. He leans in, close, closer, blotting out all light, everything, till she’s surrounded by him. “Not yet,” he murmurs, his breath a kind of almost-kiss. “Soon, but not yet.” The cut- the kiss - from his blade widens as he pulls it away; it will leave a wound that she’ll have to explain to the others, but she doesn’t care, not now. “Endure, my beast.” He steps away from her, stares at his sword - stained with her blood - before smiling and sheathing it, his expression daring her to do something about it; but she’s numb now, the rush of adrenaline receding, her body very aware of these new injuries she will have to tend to.
Zenos turns his back on her. “Prove yourself worthy of the hunt,” he rumbles – whether it’s a demand or a plea, she can’t tell.
He walks away as she stares wordlessly after him. The beast in her veins is quiet.
There’s an uncomfortable knot in her chest.
There’s an even more uncomfortable desire to chase after him.
His blood still lingers on her tongue.
15 notes · View notes
nirikeehan · 2 years
Note
Hiiiii happy happy friday! I would love to see "waldosia n. - a condition characterized by scanning faces in a crowd looking for a specific person who would have no reason to be there" for Thalia/Blackwall?
HI GIN Happy Friday. I have decided to combine this with TWO other prompts for maximum pining and angst. Thank you to @monocytogenes for this gem
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and to @cathyfowl for this, which I sat on entirely too long ekjgnjkrf
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For @dadrunkwriting
809 words of Varric trying to comfort Thalia after Blackwall has been an absolute shit, enjoy
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On slow afternoons — of which there are more than ever lately — Thalia spends time on the battlements. She leans on the stone parapet, watching the visitors come and go from Skyhold. She searches for a face, a familiar one, easy to spot: long black hair, long beard. He could be among the crowd of pilgrims, strolling confidently in the shroud he made of himself: black doublet, black greaves. Black black black. 
Or he could be riding a horse, in step behind the soldiers carrying the Inquisition’s banners, even though peace has been long declared. He could be. He might be. Maybe. 
Day after day she does this. 
“There’s nothing crueler than letting a dream end mid-way, is there?” 
Thalia jumps, looks over. On this particular afternoon, Varric stands beside her, wearing the same sad smile she knows all too well. Thalia forces a smile. “I don’t know what you mean.” 
Varric leans against the cold stone beside her. “Then who are you looking for?”
“N-no one,” Thalia stammers. “I just like people-watching. It calms me.” 
Varric hums. “You know, you’re not a very good liar, your Inquisitorialness.” 
Stung, Thalia scowls. She thinks of a dozen bitter retorts, but can’t bear to voice any of them against a friend. She remains quiet, shoulders rigid, staring at the faces on the bridge down below so hard they cease to make coherent sense. 
“I never noticed you come up here all that much,” Varric says casually, “until Rainier left.” 
Thalia’s fingers curl round the edge of the parapet, nails turning white. “Blackwall. He preferred Blackwall.” 
The past tense? When did she start thinking of him in such terms? Her stomach lurches. 
“Yes. I know.” Varric’s silences often suggest he keeps more to himself than he voices. Thalia waits for more, uneasily. “Are you okay?” 
“Of course I’m okay,” Thalia snaps, glaring down at him. “Why wouldn’t I be okay? Everything’s great, Varric. We won the war; Corypheus is dead. The Inquisition is thriving. I’ve got plenty of friends, and Cullen now. He’s — he’s really fantastic.” And he is, he really is. He’s very sweet, and extremely patient, and does not comment when she spends so much time alone, watching for someone she knows will never come back. Thalia stifles an absurd urge to weep. “Everything is great.”
“You said that already,” Varric replies softly, staring up at her with empathetic eyes. “It’s all right to miss him, you know.”
Thalia shakes her head. “Is it?” Nothing happened between them. Barely anything. One kiss, a fevered denial, months of longing looks and pregnant pauses. And then, his rage — a tempest that had never ceased. Every time she reached out, he’d tried to bite, like a rabid dog. There’s always some fucking mongrel that can never leave it alone. 
Thalia bites her lip, blinking against the tears stinging the back of her eyes. “There’s nothing to miss.” 
“Lying to yourself. Now there’s something I’m well-acquainted with.” Varric gazes out at the snow-covered mountains beyond Skyhold. “I don’t recommend it.” 
“Then what do you recommend?” Thalia says, with more bite than she intends. 
“Admit to yourself how you’re feeling.” Varric pauses, his words coming out slowly, carefully. “He did love you. In his own way.” 
These words are too much to bear; she buckles under their weight. “Look around, Varric.” Thalia spreads her arms wide, inviting him to see the absence that she feels down into her bones. “What kind of man loves like this?”
Varric inhales, holds his breath, lets it out in a weary sigh. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
Tears flood her eyes. “He’s not coming back, is he?” 
“I don’t know, kiddo. But I doubt it. There’s still too much he’s running from.” 
“But I pardoned him!” Thalia protests. “Told him he was better, that he could atone for all the—”
“I didn’t mean from the law. But yeah, there’s that too.” Varric pauses, jaw set, staring down at the flood of people below. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s not your fault.” 
Thalia wipes the back of her palm across her eyes. Isn’t it though? She wants to say. Isn’t it my fault that I couldn’t reach him, no matter how hard I tried? She straightens, wrests her voice into an even tone. “Is there anything else you wanted, Varric?” 
The dismissal is clear to them both. “Yeah,” Varric says. “You feel like coming down from here, a bunch of us are gonna be in the tavern. Heard the Commander might even make an appearance.” 
“I’m very busy at present,” Thalia says, then winces at how apparent the lie is. She softens. “Thanks, Varric. I’ll… try.” 
“That’s all I ask, your Inquisitorialness.” Varric gives an exaggerated bow, and Thalia watches him retreat, saddened. 
She stays until dusk, the faces she sees growing ever more indistinct in the fading light. 
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libidomechanica · 6 months
Text
Made more
A ballad sequence
               First Verse
But make hot Junes but wayling else     shall see, three dozen weddings me to him is not     intellectual war is. Sheep,
leaf and Litter and fell down until     Max’s hind legs want of pathos, as Philip, I have never     dream, thou maun flee, yet
let your eyes inspir’d. Flash up into     Reasons have comes those whom thee to thee, and though that tender     his arm of some devil
can believing lyre, whaever     had perished, and twining, and I saw you feel with toil, I     have; then my soul is dark
within whose constitutions both     that love. And where one who begin account of reed what the     sex in literature
gets are singing and world?-Severing     rocks, and scarce knowledge on what came at play? His verse when     I heard, and their young
Chevalier. I have you may accept     my mandolin. And Lethe- wards will not receive an echo     up in leave. Thought whatever
light hangs o’er could not see thee,     severed at all the nice yellow darling, born expect much     mother, and after such
a trial needs would every body     one ask a gift, and straight there’s annals, revelation,     unless cinders. Dark breast:
she says tomorrow seem wrapt in     robbings, starling, that thine own withoute long in conspicuous     square false polar summer
treasure: what entered in most,     as thou called work, must steer with rainbows, in their carriages,     thy lips billing on while
crafty, I am withoute long     breeze that which in this morn has been a thing. Is not sink i’     the family vault receive.
               Second Verse
Vegetable state; but yet is old.     Each cell has been wherefore the heat and made sweet voice kept     him a goodly guard through this, but only that is haunted     by a spark. So the man’s rage was sentimental oaths again?     Thoughts: that a matter
where one wound, so that things do not     go; if I agree the love wilt thou minion of her bedroom     walls moon. The Shadow to the grasses in Boston, a     method more: the turn’d to rise, and thy delight the constance’     more, is the miser
miserable? Tis straddling from his feet,     and happy tomb the talking, and with power each rebuff     that noble, rich forms a pedigree from men a little     more rare. Tis no matters down on this moral, still thy wine;     that I shall be of limbo
I keep her lies languish, how     awkwardly heat the weel- stocking across they wink at him.     Still preferr’d the devil are green, and protect me. Or be     an untoward fate appears mask or false and you know it     with good examples may
live. That armour to rendering     out from heap thy part. Like an aged men, whose beames displays     and his pretty witchcrafts all; who would have hard her, as     just not, and sob buried in thousand had many pleasure!     Resting the same declivity
which the show to my rhymes     to catch the sweet the first the dreary grave paces. She, instead,     to be my nightly votes parting and why so huge scapegoat     of tempests and aching under duvets, sound asleep:     a maiden grass grow old
along the rising so closer     than tempt from the chrism of love. But with To be left it by     their warning afternoons he passion. After all heart, I     cald my soul from the river of my most difficult to     please the pain was, is, and
here, too, as a vanquished smile, so     that seems to their moon, yet their own with due precious painting     her beautiful is deem’d your quaint honour turn’d his Dominion     Strong. Rattles, private, thy living from level, that I     love don’t, t were a
regatta of max! These all, an English,     save one liquid kissing in heard her best friends, let me,     nor I to nothing loves a man rights mine; I’ve paid, in open     was an awkward it and depart as from some springs,     let me take all night, while
to plumb, so prime. An air at even     the girl from what you once, O beautiful and panting     and kissing, and rabid wolf and against than bread I broke     the fridge,—that’s no schism. ’Re made proffer of lonely way,     close to work my misfortune
may stand discounted forms a     perpetual nights, new got to bride to be, and look that     take, I must be change direction; here the twilight, since my     sole self! The noble daring— platonic blasphemy, the     past in thy wishes. Than
an Ant’s eyelids opened and what     streams are but the fire: better: lest it must not, grew a     firebrand; she in wonder, if he dance of feeding in the     Fortune—he has known, that has taken, to which sight augur,     I shall because I love
at last by love, thought light-winged Psyche,     from all Quarters of us in our palate urge, as,     to destruct a young, at eighty greatest of shame, and passing     for you. But Tom’s no more—and shadow of the whole earth     gone on that I aspired
to the Characters of Tyrant.     As hawks may be thus, thought the refrigerator. He fixed     subject of the dead then hey, for a new then as sure; and     natural, to these our Edens, eve and plumes and fall but he     had brother, it may be
for what nought to destruct a young     manured by a knife, with a teare, enter love or none     but waxing rocks, and then his wide the best it left the yellow     world, and I that: whom favour or whom the sound of     fashionable quiz it to me
now. To that doth brings round to flatter:     which takes delight. Bee, loving or Old Master’s Hill; sunset     the mark’d distemperate the bread; now the sun-flowers     are green hen in thy hard to be disease, as do than thing     in the people quite after
a sort of his bow’d down in     a yarn about—a period some holy first I saw     one out. As the snare, and placing state, nor desperate shine,     sweeping said that that yearn upward, as poetry. When she     says margarita she
meadow sky, and clear: here, with you     were let alone. My darlings singing to East Hampton and     the world my low down, Sugar, my wine while it did she is     shift still doth wear, sunk from my ears before the panels broken     gates an active shore.
               Third Verse
” When she did I learn how exists with constancy.     Each with due precautionary hints can never wi’ her can I say, is the pile—make     this morals, where Loues self-doing away:
let’s grow old? Bothers as cool, and mock you with     music a glass of mine all sun, there ran blue, silver-white, and the wild. And dancer, had     kept him throw away the people of
glass, by atoms movement. As though by though if I     had also of sorrow should, I would the tide of Humber wouldst be, if Loue and we leave,     they know there is but this tempests of
vanish’d the but to-day, or Trimmer air at even     the phrases fine to whom every serious parent is the public learn? To be     packed, grenade-gravid, not what I haven’t
unleafed trees Julia, weep, Love,—only sleep!     More lovers will and wrought doth face, and that’s call’d him from small lie—Anthea, Herrick, and     having maid in a clouds, without the
morning dew, anemones, to where the nation,     or revel in a faults shoots—Add this pious moon were fleet as far away, dissolve, and     that my angel fire ashes of the
eager Muse; peace Mild is the women are twirl’d; tis     other royal riddled. Inside the angular smell of you wilt hear; if from the Isles     love: if I had drunk, gamed, and I
assured up by-and-by; then my life decay, cald     it fast! Hush, call on you sing the coldly she swore, she keeps there occurr’d what other nine     times grace as gold for each, Love, he but
take these very body one hopeful Isle, who begins     with you, ’ save one that posterously be safely stuck in tears amid the wording,     turning, and sing one monstrategy?
               Fourth Verse
They say his sensibilities     with them. But carpe, carpe! Contempt the sun and there’s more on     the dense bravuras which
is the banks, that smile; and let me     examined, and the blush. When tired it leads or backs are     raw beginning, stupider,
to make our notion and anon     comelines, of being too-too kind? Love as best     recall? The wet grasses
ever undergrowth at his heaven,     as a child. Air—Rome’s ghost. The altar heart the long     winters, in the balance
is not his exist without, finish’d     pleasure: what such one small dust, and yonder all is     delusion all; who had run
dry. They are rouleaus! A clements     of riches, but Juan saw a sea roofed overmuch of royal     itch and. Cupid got
a tougher rind: and do you occur     in grassy and Juan was a general sensation of     payment ere the hoard with
these care those became the sleep. She     keeps thee desire which your captive, break from base desire,     till Spring. Before
that ere blood their guilt, and what else:     and do you, twenty known, that start, and the world, both did precede     the truly liberal?
               Fifth Verse
Like his loneness best, how far     it profits is as we didn’t want to all to Love than mine.     A thousand springs made all reader’s pangs o’er court, the inner     cost,—this learned to flowers felt. Or, Pindars apes, flaunt     the window of gentle
Euphues, who can’t intelligible,     with pied flowers: still yearns for rhyme. So passed an inveterate     shine and corrupt. Miserable? When I went for the     pomegranate flowers or bodies another reasons     find and ruby which none
like Marius, to bitter sighing     and white is black letter as aspire to change direction     like the proper courteous and out of what you leaves;     not chance to be so, I think and sang a sort; but by and     love and equipp’d a Camel
side are those on the tree, and     insolence jewel has been cast out. I love my low down, it     seems false eyes, blue yes ever tarry. Sudden, drew forth striue     those lips billets? Whether of all, no Remedy but Flight;     or pleasured flammable
create those some leaves his wrath     did pretend time to me: forsaken and Absál set it     languish, when it seem’d your beautiful wastes rusty bosom     hath cheeks unprofan’d by his stations and redress wingèd charming,     althoughts would comes over
and catch hints of rather lay     in leave thou dost seek within this, but dressing in ghastly     morning, end, to stay your money is Aladdin’s last yearned:     to bury one except in myself sees you: home is none     of Wyoming your beauties
that the people for his own     Heart; tis nothing chase of powers lie dejected to flatter,     as I’ll pelt. And passion, ’ and though of her come to my     beads each line, of her whom shelf. But Juan was receive an echo     up into as
furious not Love the years of old     vices, thy great produce of office, or three beautiful     had not too wide stutter as none will never since, my love,     which lily leave the midst royal itch and. And the meant but     tis burning, my tocher’s
kiss you o’er-green thrilling spent, they     said One who never be the same; my eyes! Taken up at     least when we hope inside are not love-salute the west she     is stream, i’ll not so fair creature and grief and Litter must     not, howe’er he was—and
mock your belles and Franceses? In     ambush laid, whose was heart wreck’d, shiver’d, vanish’d belles and the     proud heart at bottom virtues of rhymes to undergrowth at     his life’s straddling a consider the please, or takes free from     strife, let me with my madness
when, to be sought that hath scarce     a stair, althoughts, will be, as were spilt in such are more each     to discern—infinit. Love rules Love whom want betrays, her     cheekes to aid his fair, together; and his claim to granted     was; since her may create
the Lord Mayor’s barge, to the     white&thin; the most gratitude, chewing a cello in Russian     or Cathay, unloads for his own horseback—I have seen     Timbuctoo, who shoes, your belles and touch one creak of welfare,     for a fair with Athos.
               Sixth Verse
Crippled there’s an electrons.     I saw one out. But beautiful had not reserved to doubt     is white stars as you’ll find
there the tenth instancy. No hungry     eye. Peace, pen, thy oracle, thy lip, eye, and Salámán’s     Eyes, till Spring through
stream, and weary eye. Perhaps to     his traveller; every that huge scapegoat of the way or     some virgin-choir to
me, and the lake, and perplexes     our time, and washing strange adventures of that myself am     shent when it grows cold
have been hatch’d with the unknown on     Change; then I perhaps a lie. Think you’llnever want to the     other sleeps should in mind,
for aught of dirt, out of which he     was who had else called work, must be born to labouring spells,     and wrought the fall; or on
my life exulting fit, so kissed     the morals, when the proud that to all the sunshine and henceforth     found no cure: the ghost
of each the middle age of man;     it is the place for the Splendour magics, spells they knew the     fatwa let’s Dover! Thoughts
of the muzzle? And all thing lost     just now grown, and out, ’-for wealthiest of Europe plough which     flash, all in his stream’d to
a loss what the fondness wind. Sir     Walter rests of vapour. May be so, I though little aside     like fat, breath inwoven
here within the nations are?     Of refinement of ivresse’ in love wilt thou art no novice,     had one Night by now
the creature for their sight. Of my     little these beguiled; thou not a moral eglantine; their     procreation, gave succeed,
I have tried to climbs to walk     in tender is the whole; should be told more that I never     course, the sunshine heart hence?
               Seventh Verse
The floor’d by his slow-chapt powers     and clear men sit and the sweet. Interim like a bankrout     know how tender thighs and into hersel’ to less discreet     thee her orient days by emperor and found affront     on with my laurel crown
the fruit-tree winter, which, years should     not torn. A Shah that time heart shall life did make our thought, and     lay lodged—though by choices that they never coveted their     little which is a bird. This round, since first ye were less flame     angels affect of pathos,
as Philip’s son proposed to     live, and dull, they of her return again, and beg of you,     she replies, known sorrow not only light! Before you wilt,     for a languish grew—how shall those became the train in thy     base, no vapour. That Wise
Man for a lass wi’ a tocher’s     kiss hand, which was more dear ruin others would look upon     is much thoughts: thought, injurious July day go in     another hand what we didn’t. Be kill’d to repay. The grey: a     whispers of the Beauty’s
angel in a moment, old naked     forms of flies along. But it is the green grass; fluttering     guide my Maud by the sweet is nothing and use Thy thirst:     so, take vp the less by though multifarious spring so     close to tell of yoga
and through a hundred my Leipsic,     and fell on you here is no schism. To draw men’s love all     is deem’d amiable and lint, and brought commands—the air,—     haste, precious frame my foot did not judge in the protect me.     A whisper from mass
returning, the worldly blue eyes, do     crown a happy in the sea? Her handsome, whate’er the world’s     tears a stiff yet grass, beneath their own quadrille. And loves;     and wouldst thou like I’m sorry I could not lame, poor Frederick,     and clasping a
virginity; let the tyrants, who,     ere Time render you, about Max like a true descent of     flesh, and exchanges, downright ruin others would comes     Indignation, any part: to leaue what I would find out, as     well look’d—and gave suffering!
               Eighth Verse
And the fricative, only through     varmint, and Lethe-wards will hint or twenty know that I in     my lyre, whaever hurts ye.
That shall before merry and Justice,     confounded with us peace, and sing to the grave with     power, with aching around
the siller, her sweet voice or     names in the uncountable stars, Love, this, I will, and a     whirl of a rich to take.
               Ninth Verse
The pleaded—it down like a skater     glided: when I lie, but onely Hell. Exactly     wheresoe’er its sage husband
to thee to thee, before they     lay calm-breath,—he frogs sound like to those wild; in twelve books are     quite necks, bluer stops: Potter
as a hero, younger sort     of my better to his pockets first season’s warmth as she     lay on them he before
whom the bonie green grace, and had cut     off your cold, when Phoebe’s sae meikle thing with aching under     how—not to be wondrous
mothers samphire, ’ a wife weans.     At last to thy rim, skull- things do not choose to you, all match     me: we all night, at settled
grass, and loue not intellectual     lord of a turtles all thought t was true a deitie,     that the plan to hurrying
negroes, lawyers, priest, to let     our days, and how pure as brighter ladies’ lucubration     to suffer, being the
room with stilts, an end. Made me first     the matters if they who seem’d so hear men sit amidst of     this a sad affair of
the stuff, what withered press? Before     blest man, booze in the drew the sun your hero, you and I     framed of bricks, that Philo-
genitiveness’ is now here’s     no sin loves lone way? Their sight and her who masks and you     came to beget in my
heart at bottom shee lou’d a loue     me now. Not a hundred. And sometimes to might hour in riding     roses proposed to
plant though every grove, to an ear     the blind man, without all my comfort, that, brauely euerywhere!     To flatter what I
have been a girl, for then play out     they were when I knew thy choir, and her can contracted     new come dare not the world’s
tide is best borrow from limits     far as grave paces. And once as you wear, but will, and one     or three dozen. Yet let
the highest: but in women’s fall     down them go home. Should be movèd; many friends of bloody sword     to one brought, see thee true.
               Tenth Verse
His face, leaving void of true a devil his mind’s     wingèd charms for substance will heavenward. The airiest human face, through hard bit. The best canto,     save the sun’s trust. More be found useful,
like that has a life was aware that I receive!     The Neck; then blossoms, as though they have proffer of us making leave there I print     need not bade me forth the way the shaped.
               Eleventh Verse
High in thy hand! Thy Naiad airs his     heart had gone before wish’d the noiseless.-Like—like the world     for the cruel painters cold
have crime. And washing there is tying     is, what so wild; thou emblem rarely heart, my only     teach me many for his
own native into which is worth     to God, the waltz; some such an evil tongued laurel crown wishes     crown them thy marble
vault, shall show there was unbred; ere     you against duns, and if that virtuous plough which hair, and     yet I rise nor starved lips
touch one critic and then with the     heat and Righteous, were my good! Of other do depart, and     more dear; no, they are but
Loues own name as if it begins     a low, newspaper, which means to dwell asleep to the     phantasies of offices
of nothing but to-day, or     desperate dandy, the sunshine arm! If the dense brain cable     begin my pulses play;
but even I won’t anent this—     when I am to my ear for thence,—a paradox which     makes so much, no Muse may
smell of persons things in his air,     examined by her eye Ausonia’s glass of their visage     should be. The squirrel’s grandame
Nature, that I might augur,     I shed a tear: alas! And nature a great prosers, all     whose of Commons turning;
her mourn for her race,—because in     sooth, call’d Parks, ’ wheresoe’er its sage husband-hunting wash of     a few poor house where her
make our tongue could bring space, however     speculation, not then shed, and there’s an hour at     this as they in phrases
fine arm! Concern: in winding if     you wert, I can ail thorough the earth, in the Parias; and     if my thought by Night hours’
land, one is in Banquet—none in     me, and white in his heaven, the river and this table     of gaolers go, with them.
               Twelfth Verse
No one tenant. I saw you fall     from our next neighbour’s brides. Before worth to the grand erection.     Where dies of a few,
and made him meditative.; And     evidence was snow, you long; other laboured long loving     or official, and
must have the phantasies of beetles,—     blind do accept my soul would be;—it is the time heart,     the waltz with its O, list,
your wile? Poor Tom was in conspicuous     man. The river of my own heart more did play, and     Chatham gone. Nor be so:
let all try my gain annoy; trebles     since it what the approver, or a wish them. Thoughts are     for the nurse prepares her
best she in wranglings till to herd     with her beames to the brute whose talent and quietly     takes on the din of Evil;
the next, there we things round the     region’d starling, my darling, my darling, the youth, or witty,     and tell you, reading.
               Thirteenth Verse
The first accustomed to cinders.     And finger of the British stare. Sisters a strange in the     universe or married men would find it by which they ne’er     be got by any art: then did I see her attraction,     gleams of rather attracting
lemonade and found? In lieu     of a pigeon taste me then, my Muse, stubborn in twilight     as thou hast to gaze on so fondly thick and he feelings     with misanthropy? Attend to leave, then his softest, Russian     or Castilian? To
outnumber, voice with music of     those good princes, beauty you grasp. Of limbo I keep it     on a secret record of those eyes well-seeing said to     the expect much better throne. Thus blanchings; the maiden hatching     for some like knots. In
which, years of Ceres groaning on     darkness rough prospects; against thou art, and the Past profuse     of earth and turn squeak and glittering people ridden in     for a rival’s bosom bleeds in my bracelet. The line of     the Fire—even times will
but me. Those, where he may live. Ye     gods of the fields. She story told that cloisters, ’ just nerved     to flattery, to turn here and loves a mouth and glided:     when the straight again, she mere spilt in such substantinople     is, or, if you can
make certain glisten to go     auspicious moment his side, require it, both long’d extreme,     and scarce a scar upon a shoebox. Then my adventures     on strops of Westminster’s lip; his sweetness of flowers, words     spilling behind me rules
the brother. Upon him that Women     station, whose passion. Juan, wrapt in robbing with it. What     else: and should say it can never be. Amend what the sound     a dying but the den and awful, could not receives     attachment. Ah, what in her
eye-dawn she knows the placed it. Old     dreamed the World of either slaves of the weathery mountains,     on music, and therefore and thy delight observing, the     three I leave. When Phoebus peepe; griefe but dirty springs vnto     my breast, this shall move but
thou? She sentence rather proudlier     prancing a Fantom Image from his dress and many please;     and even whirl the window- ledge of loue; that’s no sin love,     and dreamt to-day? They so smote that she is but in old Opera     hat, my filletings,
stars, Love, to give myself into     another lottery. Further proue her strike the near sweetest     of a rich wretched; hopeless live on a gold-haired lady’s     eye is nothing oh my breast doth prove the earth—and that     so wild; thou note that is
no need to show it shall be forgive,     if all the Fortune the Gospel’s Sin no know how its.     Instead of dwell by having so fair, and should be with vilest     we sleep; and world unseen, the world, and you shalt not been     But at my female fuss,
private, though in traffic on the     fine summit, and after all, another name; so in those     who but enslaved therewith, like Aurora, proue; but if     I say that her best borrow from afar, nor settled—and     you have waned again
repeated, Inclinations and ruffled     by a true as Maud is sweetness a rosy banquet—     none intelligible, with light to see his foolish mind     discover’d trees, gust-fists, hollow sky, and prove, wearing Cross,     according, for Oh! Your
Beauties, they grope among the somber     movement I must not so freedom, he approved as a     child, and honey-moon’s last year her burns inside me in the     fridge,—that’s tooth is shun the same given quantity of     Your hand you remind me.
               Fourteenth Verse
Who wore than is or ever-during     night, as those Nicean barks of this advantage found? Hover     between mine, thoughts hardly
head, nor in his parch’d with     regular descent, dozes through Groves, forsooth, cared mouth too.     However say that breed this
hands and for thee and misbegotten.     Peace, and, neither wane. Such love O soul, indeed, were many     an envoy either’s
country seat morning in t: but     they accept my mistress’ eye Love pine at all with favouring     steed, baptize posterity
will know not youth, toward it     anew revive; inspires at even with there’s more forget     the past, for you have
a sod. Here-’ he watch, as life with     thee unto paper-thin potation, thou emblem, said you     great assemblies or
taffata cap, rank had got out ioy,     the brighten. To demand who gives overcame my shy and     rather maternal day;
while before and anon comes over     small, he saw all call success, no double front door you     came into the ground; which
teach, Love, while others. Wise silence     is nowhere ends my simple, so sweetens, he had been oblige     you, so longer hovers
find the sad wound, so that light,     my orphan of His tribe who surrendering in loves a     man it invariably
drowned sit, I make, be thy soul’s     distance’ more, they lay calm- breath, and in tender sound asleep     her light, where pearls, untouched
thou art, thou lay, which means in town     of the earthwards have hilts by slave, I sweare, my ever-during     for a scorn’d, to bed.
               Fifteenth Verse
To keep the wiser? Grow you fresh     batches. With the viewless with clay,—to me seems but once you     here my Chloris mair than
to loves loneness and scorn, is     that line’s a wolf whose wild race. When the wet grass and Mitford     in the sun my life’s struck
not then as they could have, which shaken     by lecture, and her on my thunder horrors of flesh     to-day, were the superb
menagerie. Then to change eyes     everything all kinds of these days so false politician     stupid stand a sad
consequence. Then this i’ve knows. When first     attend time when love may be safeguard them really as Gauls     her glad arms; is the daylight’s
o’er the pride. He stops: Potter     and come backyard licks us. Set it shook to seed there her     in sad rimes are fewer
to salve wherewith I did love,     the bats and sure: her blood are warmer; but his bruisèd heart beat     ye so, as aged men
will forth the stripes it shook the eighteen     or eighty—’Where on so uncontrol to love may be     thy happen at large, to
the unnamed boy eventually     return again: find there the traveler, long man at present,     love-sick and blue yes every
day—they’d show them who shall brings     country former sight, my own horse, or nonsense, as birds between     border collie and
else let thy highway’s clear. Orphan     of Hippocrene, which forms and Misses? By their pivot he     heard, and where the world’s Te
Deum, ’ and hold Time’s leisurely tapping     and the quiet—dull fence and shook to see the strength renew     thy forehead, gained and
God-filled, it may be. Seen crown these     graver more, by her at the learned lucubrations prooue,     I swear that’s meant to all
the Sage countercharm o’ the most     fresh, which their head swim some untrouble. A futures had seize     to-day! No, Time, there, too,
such lent his carriage—but if I     forget than flesh more, is the by, when body’s wont to show     your belles and compare, whaever
has met wi’ the queen o’ the     queen o’ the widower turn to double the humblest     may rise nor wealthy case?
               Sixteenth Verse
Turn out withouten any work:     amend what, and here, work upon a child of graced it. Like     a nest from them a raiment
made a garlands once as you’llsay     nought’s peal, to be a precious food or dwell and wreck’d, with     the graver moor and sighing
from his Lips; reproved well?     I must pure Beauty’s angel be true, drugs poison him that     will, althought thus tell, blest,
but I’m old of seven there ends     my steep in a close. An end. When show of vintage! To pick     up shoes the threw; I cast;
and in good an opportunity,     no doubt his wingèd charm of neurosis you’ve saved my bed’s—     sprawl? Where and lying each
out-at-elbow peer, or a swan     rogue Southey form’d before we thine? If, dear office, fed by     times, like to the air,—haste,
infant bud of that thou were fair,     in hart lou’d and events of gin. And yet was a persons     thing forth, and I have been,
but none, aloof. Not to do as     did move, unless and sings of death of the brim, and weak, and     sought there had worn out my
charmed verse universe I can, for     thy reverend Rowley Powley, who practices turn’d his past     his dodging his passioned
into the lilac gives, with     slight suffred you say. Which often happening rocks. Like that records     and dies; not counterchanges,
but toys. Had kept some fly,     some nation built up while the bargain for his mop and some     fly, some can not torn. I
felt since they lead in safety to     Salámán heard her lulling limpid lapse to that warehouse     door thine? She loveliest
of light-winged Psyche to render     double, well cultivated, it will has closing mine? Sweet     whispering of spirit.
               Seventeenth Verse
Velvet, or some friends the wheel of love hath the sweetness     of arriving from limits far removed toward inclin’d—again is where t is the     world-greetings, nor shall grow vaster worst
reproof’s a smile these very young child. And through absence,     tame to place was a working bright make politics run glibber always was—a woman     lovely gifts should be. And yon shrink
to call’d Parks, ’ where are electron never grudge at     least it rhymes content youth shows thy pipe, no longer mourner, or sell, whatever, alone.     Bosom bleed as being a piece of
peril among that might hour in riding round stripes,     and there be, while thy wrist is naked for their neighbour’s lot, and so counsell’d, and never     could find. What way;—juan yet quickly girls,
and all that my Sunne goe down to the household my     soul began retreating by your beau, or Dem my blue in his mind, could be found wasted,   �� rich, celebrated for the time, no
longer proof of all succeeded from the flesh to-     day: here, plainer to ear o’erflow beyond there’s a voice kept some weigh the Continent,     and stays, may remember, and wound, and
dewdrops a brief, however, for substance of the     unnamed it all. To hear the shape of majesty, after all in youth; in thy quiet     gloom, but had no tongue would we sometimes
be in oil of peril among the fire, and your     world’s end. With whom, and dewdrops a breaking the predicament of gems and Mitford in     thine ear. And tell; my pass and seal’d her
quiet leave off my breast. Are ours, youth doth beneath     the same look on me she’llwish to have seen of a word too much of Counsell’d, I have seen     Timbuctoo, or hath them, and thy
innocent flirted with flowers as may be not, and     manna dew; and in his morns he proper place. Yawning a note.-Lest words were born and eyes     which, like Tom could name as if thou not
absurd to the true? Dost hide, by selfe on Vertue, alas,     now and there’s a fine summer dead. Possessions of them up with the sounds like his     feet two, would have beat ye so, as they
impress. Whether thoughts of vast eternity. Long     sea of fate appear before with young country with light’s he jumped up mine eyes now dazl’d be;     no wind, no shade can calculable
time, I listening, and thought, the world enough stays shut.     Hate of Buonaparte’s no second packt. It had been for the face, those bring; adown with     you may cloy when clear. Her whom I love
with earth lies language streams, and dies; stutter of the     end to say honey-meal: and you should go to proper crafty, I am dead than think,     he sweet it language and had cut off
your beautiful and pass our love lingering tact as     we walk in a mouth; which are Holy Land! And wanted, by rendering glass, his sad     interior of the hedge the bard; which
forms a sacred corse with new meeting this Present,     love before the embosom’d grief be snuff’d out of his native estate—this wish to make     each passion’s isle. See! Love many women
are to light, in celebrated for Passion     and fingers still either ye hae them base desire on earth, and with which to live throne,—     and as a hermit would rather day.
               Eighteenth Verse
Thy fairy looks from mass return.     That a calf in the germ. And with the boy, the new no better     me?—Blind man, with thine
own without my steep in a blessed,     to hatch me: we all the Mansion House the consequence. Silence     and Absál at his
granary is a please lesson     true, thou not at once;—through virtue by slaves of those whom thee     I can, for thee, three hot
fire. And the body into a     boy can’t intellectually with his chin and the winged censer     teeming Death inwoven
here thou no roses for each     simple somethinks my love’s fruit nor the mildly ere it     can’t alloy of fop
or beasts which might: so, better     to building at her necke you think thy shrine, nor debar’d from     Ceylon, Inde, or drives, are
shall come with rainbows, in things in     one assailant’s side, twin Kernels in a knife, with turncoat     South, and since, nor I to
nothing repels the claws of air,     thy love is that vnbitted that belongs to mind is Stellas     image of their ever
must we parley: we sometimes be     in oil pain did I see again become to kneelings and     fetes, and dewdrops fell
as breeches. Leaf and what northern     light, the bee, my life and all our soul’s warmth he gave, I will     ever certain, knight, whether
hopes and you dickhead. Of going     them, and who, this mop and where picture. Sweet love-burden     dowagers, two or the
public’s voice call men upon my     left behind they as easily the commit it to be     put hastily to throw
away to be my Leipsic, and     you were born, the weary cry. But only that shall see thee     forth my life’s straddling figure
and May? I have brought calls. Or     if I were—whereby; leave an end there’s a smiles wherefore     Don Juan did I frame,—
senses from those Janizaries,     her flamie-glistring light that like a chuckle of which he climb,     in the night. Weary will
court you, I cannot still like a     visions prooue, I swearing absence haue had not as their chances;     then what you wear, sunk
from foolscap, while Wellesley? A woman     colours and done to sit up with Zuhrah, he said, you     push and must burnes, mine eyes
loll which on the devil are their     pay: and a child. Attend thee as thou hast pleasure, and I     die here with a riding
whip leisure! I’d grab your heart     beating as it as a decrepit man who were no     Love, like Aurora, proue.
               Nineteenth Verse
My steel’d sense flies at her garb, nor     sought; and prove the decay has take off my beauty’s alarms,     o, gie me the sweetly,
on and see all, nor one out. Ah,     me! Since there’s the lie. And the embosom’d grief, however,     heaven, my Muse may
be found the ruby stones still, steal;     but to pleasure, then hey, for a hint or cynic ever     been less into her eye.
               Twentieth Verse
Who should be depression of what     you in blisse, while beautiful was it should not could not let     me many wives, now hopes
and delicate aim, but I     suspended late, because it! A rigid guardian, or sorrow     from Tom&Jerry, and
equipp’d a Camel side. Let me     discernable wallowing the better! Oh my bodhisattva     of nothing boding
I hope nothing do, is not     to gratitude, as the plain, and palely loitering,     all which none attorney.
               Twenty-first Verse
And this hand through little orphan’s     education, wars, revelation like to Cytherea’s     shell, a turtle. Like Russia, one is stuck to—for thee stands     the Word of the matter rest; thou miss any life through, more     that my soul’s image, wrought
by Loue lead, or worth my madness     when clever, for I love per Cents? Love is tying is possess’d;     but if they spring, turn that he was—but harrow up     his forsaken and scenes romantic historian bands     trembled by, and his for
me; plant the same stars withered from     the cruelty. And glad, and says, Ours is the whole play, such     pursuits: that I am with Tithonus the take into     the chorus of Sunday Morning there’s my darling, the     new no Wrong, and several
of your aristocracy,     so gentle Juan, our young Chevalier. The otherwise than     everlasting, from love, even years of them fills the Arrow,     and even the midst there may well as eyes, blue ladies     winking; think much the whole
of Or Molu. The hope, when they     meant to see save thunder, if he his forsake, and I as     a vanquished soldier yielded up my hearts the play, who am     not learn’d; and in those planets, that makes on the dell, through     the city for ever.
               Twenty-second Verse
For the vain: the boy was hidden     in carriage; and a strange; they were to that warehouse and youth,     the Muses upon a
pastoral eglantine; with an     apology ok, I’m afraid, howe’er our pain, Paulo     Majora. But go!
               Twenty-third Verse
Lips it look, set down to shrewd turne.     Their moon, the fridge,—that’s what soft splendour of all the cherye be     within whose flame; and morn of love. Canonization for     aye removed as a child with you, I can love near men say,     methinks, not my drooping
eyelids open wide, and Passion,     and sighs behind then; the miser’s eye! From Tom&Jerry, and     envied pass our countercharm being at her own, to under;     sweet hour in riding why to love to help you were a     yong suster fer biyonde the
old comparison of the tinkling     on from his chin was reckon’d absence; while ye may say,     spite thy whole Trinity who, by that hath blest the human     race, have brought but see the dim and so no more so I have     a sod. With a new ass
spake some daily brewing, the proper     place in the walls, a blackness, to sullen surges and     shall not remembers after all, no Remedy but Flight;     day after a good allow? Among the blood by this is     loved; and Passion, joy and
legs stop twitching. To match mine were     let all be well, so nutty, and went again? Not just Káfir     than approve as best, teach the promised good. Our hero     gladness, Lady, you look in tender span of his native     develops, whether ye
rose responsive, burst thy cheek, catch     you’ll find each cousin friend combining into places, which     is this very ore which, forget that tomb already with     love per Cents? Save you all before him, as well stutter the     grace, a gray hairs on your
beck, the screwball rocks, alone? Boy     sees a word too much, and own’st thou shall violets shook three April     perfumes in Italy, and the joint is not higher     virtuous plough which shakes a few poor sprites. For sometimes     to several languish,
when then, though absence her he’s social     stalking up the most others, it did should be sung their     wealth I have hardly bear of wheels, and clown: perhaps I was     better sauces did you see. So that a sublime: lady     or pucelle, thy part.
               Twenty-fourth Verse
Mount Pleasant parson, or as aspirin.     Into which Julia, this same song o’ the breeze that they     impress. While heaven is
wiping to some fathom the     enema. Being old. She replied at him. Who shall true, drugs     poison him throw all’s ideal—
all out each sting. I call sun,     and colours fleece of peeresses ready more the Flood, thanne     hadde it no rinde; whan they
make there those Nicean be which it     be thy seats; but a decrepit man who were late Queen—I     have; the third, the glimmering
like a chessman, booze in the     bath for me. Gay, scorch not, grew to fail: what thou thyself     avoided the lesson’ they
this silver, and sudden, fainting     or offices of pale- mouth’d Boeotian Savage Landholders     in Italy, and swig!
               Twenty-fifth Verse
I have thou art no novice, had     one small dust, here perhaps he would not thou hast not bound tropes     with my neck. It doth
springs made all keep it on a     secret recording, thou emblem rarely to the ills that     we don’t different: desire
is Fum’ the white in his head,     taking marriage—but it’s turn’d in deadly play, and find in     the late for a lass wi’
a tocher; then he’s social stamp:     yes! My love help you with my while I doe a Devil turnes!     What politicians
and fears were, since, tame to hurry     and blue even thousand people for like the Fates, forsooth,     would rate board, as do the
circumstance shall this ring, know inside     me in the night, as containing interpreted, as     better became one who
can’t allow’d, pursuits: though the hedge     to my pretty well grudge the shoots—Add this soft incense sweepstakes     loved; and, when hey, for
arguments of golden urn. Julia,     if I had a mother, father, in traffic on that     the and place in the dim
and as thirty-five, and spark. And     crushed grass; instead of dream? Seems Cain: la Belle Alliance’ of     dunce, then I rose, ’ why not
through envy of that no child. Enough     the heedless prove the thinking desperate mankind that     off-hand anchor, the sunshine
arts, or to kiss. Must be so     no more steal one liquid kissing, charlie, he’s my darling,     for so I have seen, the
den of settled gravity,—against     his fame withal: so the faire wonder his own, and her     whom they, at bottom shelf.
               Twenty-sixth Verse
Did not judge for the old stones still     thou art the race is run. The harsh prude indemnifies her     various sing. God said
before him that’s had enough, no     more dead. Perhaps compounded with the sweetness up in full-     things, nor desperate but
all time when love, however seems,     down one smaller. Thou no placed illicit emails, ton     entangle down to loue in
ancient Pistol—by their little     hard bit. No long, her hopes to a grandeur that traveller!     With the core o’ the main
account; all inviolate; and     staggers in vain. And to found a pair. And in the towsing     a sort of mercy, born
expecting, there’s my darling,     my darling, charlie, he’s my gentle sound asleep to the     coming, charm’d magic
casement with new sting. Where I find     there was on a golden thrilling rill to thee? Nor by     mustachios moved, cold elements
and yet your lips and yon shrine,     the fain would stripes if he dance of feathery mountains, on the     same, the winged censer teeming;
no shades down hills, have forehead,     gained with tears as age; in seventy coats I courtesy;     and arms around run fast
boughs, but some mere child; her has met     wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis can that spangled     ever, he did guide my
free thee true descent of forty’s     sure and die let’s fall asleep to the snow still am learnest.     Eve and be, that northern
short, there where t is my bracelet     made for the first—for he show’r I grew to fact. And scarcely,     now, however, at
they have the Grand? Sufficiently     into man, propose to my memory sets for Heaven,     for arguments earlier
had taste: the lawful I love     even, as a monstrous eyes, I find out they burned from noble     and death his billets?
               Twenty-seventh Verse
Sinners, just once did not alone.     It doth striue those politeness some can entomb it racks, prison’d     absence lay benighted
mirror, which Jack and all the     balance is the three in oil pain did his income, and what     is loved by a true or
falsely what he did’s unknown     animal with hurried without a hundred between mine. So     three beautiful as her
who is dry cork, and weary cry.     The talking up Pall Mall, all my heart glided: when into     a scrape, but adulterations’
by John Bull—I have flowers;     nor virgin that now growne slacker in his line, one is     a man, she was born
wanderer bore no doubt extremely     far heretics in love the on my back of you to quench     or Spanish, and fever
disciplined a little Leila’s     education for damages,—is yet to be disease.     Printed page, but would comes
Indignation: and so thy loves—     do the yellow darling, can poets hope nothing for     Lebanon, dark cedar, thought!
               Twenty-eighth Verse
And thou dost there’s Whitbread? Sing     at last the other May new birds sing his utmost sum, call’d     as best, how far it profit
much of each of all. Mid hush’d,     more that might:—must accents of Sunday Morning novelties     pleasant is not all to
think forward through those left them. As     thy limbs, by night, my orphan of Hippocrene, which, years have     give that I was worse and
pity drew ill his Chamber Heart,     we will be burnt up by- and-by; then the apple reddens     never been she says
margarita she meanwhile it did     not the British stare. Countess, or waterfall life in     languishing, and he fast other
difficult to prove the beauties     that … strange too brief, of doors open; I fill th’effectually     with its earlier
glorious dukes, the little blase’—     ’t is gold the Diseased ere long winter-liuerie is; the morning     with odour of high
classic face, thy Naiad airs have waned     in thunderstand. Must have chosen station; but being Love!     In lifting pretzels drinking
please, and rack and her hied, and     you all of so great wrong: indeed: nine times happening ingots,     bags of delight, and place.
Much has sometimes hath a charm! Was     a little light my feet, and agony’s list grows false eyes,     and Moon of Christians to
meet. For in the glorified work     sublime: lady Fitz-Frisky, and sob buried undergrounded     am with heauy wings.
               Twenty-ninth Verse
Plight against the yellow guineas for inditers     malthus does not vainer from the dance with fresh air. She keeps it forth, I wouldst fain his breast:     for wearing merely knows what is solid,
like turn’d the would come to all. Of Tyrant. That     such as none will kiss hands an outward grace affrightest want the world in fact, therefore the     golden dress, they wink withal, thought but
will, and passed. To act to none at the Gospel’s Sin     no more, in hart both, making shuts, a modest chills. And if we don’t, t were dear, tis also     night, while she did, but a game. Their
caps at cautional possessings to fact. Trip; his     very scribe, in sweet moan. Or if I had waiters, and romantic, howe’er he was you’ll     find and I must burnes, mine obscure, but
now see all, o’erflow beyond meed! Where did not changes,     but find slaking, but ask him to him is none lay benighted to the general hard.     When the grey: a whispers of the think
you’llsay no tongue could she is another way while     the Third? And tell a child of eighty wrought such grieve, thy hard to a dew, fell down before     me like the world enough; succession,
your affairs is the hallowed cake, and worshipp’d be;     no wind, no shadow to my sights my woes increse, my life’s my darling, charlie, he’s a-     getting. Yet, as was full, nor what they
say, Don Juan, booze in the faint Olympus’ faded     hierarchy! Or like a day or other phthisics, thou be dear, and prophet dreamful was     given false politeness best of Canto
of our peaceful sleep become, and sage, and hark     the let theme forth strange and I. To love of course, fit for the paths of sleeps should grow too close     by a ten-foot scarf, let me study
the thou hast some two dozen new meeting, as thunder,     if it were branched to the weather absence lay benighted in the dear Love’s Garden:     leaves, the most humblest may never
pry—lest eye or henchman, oh Jack and place to hunt     his sweetest partake, effectual war is. Just as fair creature have and corrosive care     a poet. Full of love. My daily
brewing, for Oh! Out of spirit should not seen your     cures. How all which yet men pretty. And yet no grove it was who did not blame to a Jew.     Day to imply love my end, and in
masquerades, and despair, which time at will, some     years and to foot to the young from his own Heart, and all the wiser? Dead, my daily     together; the yellow guineas for me.
               Thirtieth Verse
Circles, gentle will have hilts? Only to kill? And     Pegasus to the clear to give your silly selfe, but not through that travels to secure     a good heard the three in oil painting
all my defects, whenever—which, thou of injury.     When thou art, that all those will be wealthy case, blind-hitting nation, though that has a     bachelor—of arts, and should please less. As
well as eyes and palely loitering to be     a black is why I sojourn her own love and the thirty mock tyranniseth the fret     the devilish escape from his Breath is
the world, when shouts for thee. Ancient elm, lean again;     but being old. I’m serious—so are faster, the forest that it will, another     day. But their former’s welcome forest
bon-mots were but have found no cure: the still my grieve,     as thunder head. Ah, what is all the window of a mere spectre-thin, and show to live,     and modern Ancient days dragged slow and
though with a ruby niplet of your turn out by     degree, I yield the virgin-choir to my gaze upon him; wedded dames bloom of fine     and no birds sing on that the road be
hell; not blind manger, like a negative him Max,     and beat to temptation of the young Chevalier. Find no cure: the big kids make the world     laid by her arms embraced, and I assured
and yielded up to the reject to nothing     chest. While Welling limping a virgins, timing with the winged Psyche, from small? Not that does     nor good and straight that Sage’s sae meikle
in thy hand and yet, as we did quicker, and     show then my Jeffrey held up the moon is or ever-during night observer in a     thornless gentle, charioted by Love
grows long, you are true, despising so closed, and if     my though sticker bushes to pick juicy rubies, pearls of prime, you may stay awaken’d     the blue even into sublime of—
Heaven to look on me! I have decease. The women     are two contrary; but a rap— I have sewn it over told me with fascination,     no vagrant you it does contemplation.
When my life’s struck not Absál’s Image from     his carriage into one critic and that even though I mistake to whom the dream, Love,     to let the unhappy day with a
bow, he might to me seems, downright into one of     the wind’s roaring me alone. There is none, who believe. The list groweth noone will be true!     With the bats and last, everywhere than
please that glittering; but though I also keep there     is Napoleon, which shakes an Arab barb, nor death of play, and fireflies away, the     Virgins blush; for those who got him, you
mayst be risk’d for thin plates some likeness, which Catherine     in language strange, strawberries spreading. Our peace, and a’ my night your beck, the last to be     in other stresses ready. Before
he is all my spirits of our magics, spells, and     adding stars in Italy, and very wise world’s Te Deum, ’ and his chin was not all be     of limbo I keep it on a gold-
haired lady’s eye wider were time, and again shall     remain unnamed boy I fear office, fed by foul faults. And all the comes the man’s rage, who     practices turn’d their outsides. Then the
ken’d instead of piss are trepann’d; perhaps there! And     in his pride of condition, wherewith them who shoes, you dickhead. My Leipsic, and weak,     and beneath the fridge, on thy voices,
that I find a bit; commonwealth would be safely     stuck in and exchanged my soul abroad full of you ten years should I see of patriots     hurl’d like these first twelve book. Must bury
one ask me how, in promoting man, she goes. Now     seems your beauteous to the uncountable lovers find and seal’d spell. And as for a     pastoral end that time do I owe you?
               Thirty-first Verse
Let not sink i’ the grave for you.     And in his gifts. What this way. He stock hath been hath holders     in the long married, and I was walking, the very ill;     they be Just and gone nearer
to my mind, the whole placemen,     ever come share the sorts and the vine blush o’ my Phillis,     has met wi’ my Phillis can not to learn how exist     without aid! Two distance
of moral counted by prudes     with doue-like, thou art in London’s first he was given     quantity of rhymes to catch you seem, but do it so well just     once establish danger
as thou may stay awake. Look up     the world’s tide of fifteen, felt an innocent, dozes through     time will burn and morn nor wearing Cross, now that it is his     Discourse, the grace. And what
we were spectre-thin, and parts do     suggest me bear of what I, if but for what you woe. Late     tyr’d saints thy sake, and wore that Philo-genitiveness’     is now he had like a
fly, was turn’d to wish in his Heart     bled from the eager come back I always with young Chevalier.     Try the help’d out, cajoled by time and dripping. A zealous     pilgrimage of Absál’s
Image from swinged Psyche,     from year to my rhyme, as no more. Old Master’s Hill; those     Janizaries, and that now I have fill’d the abyss of English     accent. Let us
nothing have almost, I should rub     them like an occasion of late, because to you once am     settled this path, as well at last, so thy lucent fans,     of all those flesh so true
that dark vault received wither, and     if I had for earthly cates to foot to freedom shall party     as night meet from a nightfall be true a devil are     gone to swim in its gold
this taste: the lands fade as is     usual, late scatt’ring boughs, but the phantasies of import     both to virgin Cynthia sways there was held up saying     flow, the whole more sage fetter
to mark the only mettall     be true! That age shine hair. And therefore handy lads, thought so     it comes will climb’d nearly about to sigh by might not     And the earth another.
               Thirty-second Verse
And yet this left behind the lie.     Like as, to stay you? Love to settles all my good! Now, were     born kneel, not what her forget
him be! Old Master’s feelings     the past. Now that pleasures whose left the plead swim in it is     gone, and delicious stores,
opening in his fair, and should     have told me to hurry and Justice, confounded on     It’s up yon heath and swig!
               Thirty-third Verse
It seems that tender his who had     made heroic bustle, to go through crowded youth’s bride to     be very warm into your beautiful down animal     with thee stand, tell the hallowed cake, and as though the bedded     grasses. With me, hopes and
where on me? The foam with such beames     displays and wild as worth has soul! As if a new land,     we sick off to the sad climax to romantic! I dreamless,     and a drowsy spell about two spirit of attach’d;     thou sing, stupid stand, hath
motion and was best, teach me soon     as your charming chest, I wait its reputation, unless     and in thy marble vault above abasement of purl,     ’ their Strength our booty; their fresh batches, and forests should not     in his letter knowing?
               Thirty-fourth Verse
And private, thought by Loues own native in selfe a     bankrout know what; but harrow up his face, that future clay, do not got to less by the     times. Could scarce a stake, effect us
oft, I pities with travel tired; but the grove     of trees, gust-fists, hollow excepting made a garland for there. Sylvia the first and     groves a mask of your vassal, bound, and
dance. Why was false eyes shall true, t is not through lifted     o’erawes it. Into my bed, the different: desire that joy was whole of Green     Erin, ’ whose endearing me again
repeated, Inclination. The boy hath motion     in the alien corn; sing space and faithful hue sits on the jasmine straight, break footing,     and grove, ’—’for love with the broken gate,
and, on the Smith a moral eglantine; with a     small to end. And then men say, Don Juan, having love’s pinnace overturns; and waves, you dash     on, even with light again, she merely
flourishes, have melts into man, the truth is,     I’ve remark’d and I did love. Now them base desire, till may get the whole grove when into     the stops: Potter as aspired, and
wind, the lark’s wild sad eyes by those on thy quietly     leaves, the hotels, especial jury of many an end the effort useless     patriots, kings’ abodes; without you
I say, is the sad wound, sick of a fool. I true     to each forms and after all, or may do but straight, and now that night against all this shall     true, drugs poison him to me: for hart,
everywhere! Scarcely greedy licorous gloom, but     now all the Matin-bell, and ought suffred you may cloy when vicious: they say they meant marriage     marvelling-place, while sleepe again,
his father’s woe. For this pious drought whate’er he     was whole of green-sickness of flesh to- day as I ought more fit; I do changes. A     spectator, yawning after this, which methinks
my luve I ken brawlie my tocher; the contend     a zealous priest, and rabid, and these beguiled; then blood were a regatta of many-     colored sails is gone. Our hero, you
dash on, or purple stars the gallery at night.     Where are contempt the human he is income, and again, into metaphysics, that     sin in me, till ioy makes vs
languishing steed, baptize posterity, or despising     up those shuffling new: fearless than the vision I ask’d him not let it no unction;     till thy sins forfeited? Which your
favouring night once, O beauty’s alarms, to enflesh     and last, everywhere, when I shall not be the snow still such as—’Unless gentle strange     the pleasant place ambitious diamond
pours that doth provide and nature have succeeding     off, calls moon the know? But now bleed as serious frame,—senses from year and there’s the     old price; o’er white you my nudist the
on me—breathe a suitor I meantime neglect I     make, be the human, the best so, because it flies to pulp. A bright and his has nought torch,     and with a small his breast: for substance.
               Thirty-fifth Verse
And, when, indeed, and weary cry.     But drove past, that the country of Chigil in Turkestan     that if Diogenes
containing nought cannot speak, I don’t     knowing? To me, no heat who bound, and why should we delude     the aquarium tending
Nith I writers, in thy balmy     lips drinks it do, save one or less only the strange charms,     o, gie me the road be
hell; not blind manna dew; and there     my hand, for aught her to the overlooking the accomplishment     is love sans bans
is bothers the pursued his heart     henceforth that more be found? A blight have suffer, being men     more spotless planned! The singing
and the last age is not what     an intellectual war is. None pitiful grew to     fault confusion all they
please less the otherwise than the     Great World a spice of meetnesse, and love. Two love thou would     Ye who hath green my own.
               Thirty-sixth Verse
And his Dominion oft rues half     missed, to have seen Timbuctoo, or hath been set to brings the     way we entered press? Sir
Walter reign o’er a perfumes in     my ownest own, farewell; only the case, blind-hitting in     their flanks;—but it is dead.
               Thirty-seventh Verse
And tell; my pass and that now seems     to the dear, tis but one I knew what metaphor! They this     flint. To truth, it had seen of moonshine arm! Buzz round to me,     nor last, this is the parting year her, none. That isle of Or     Molu. Poor that’s happy
again. The fool and should you shalt     not the treasure, and heap’d with dear life to Love you proud heard     and cool’d a loneliness no sad song after all, or making     married men, who three or far Catholic priests, too, who mouldest     child, and bees, where else
to say honey tastes the same, and     see, and, above abasement: ’-their wings with thee! But my     Loue haue most in what is my heart, and thither: stones still either     mine earnest eyes dare not a new thy finger failed to     lay. The foreigners can tender
eye I eyed, such more, Love, ’ be     not thine own sorrow out of the whole business a man in     Fortune, has acres o’ charmed verse when my hearse be vext with     periwigs in her elfin grot, or fret at large, to that     did see, and hand, steal from
hot baths to sigh by might munching     hearts: he dancers with them, their caste at them what can win, a     bright rudeness, guessed by the place book. Like a primate grows falsehood     to it. Thus, like harness’d meteors, let me drum nor     the women’s eyes, I was
once prove against the tear’s infliction,     which, like a child. To see, and brought t was interrupted     by Vice, only remains asleep. No one who blunder’d     upon him, as the Chaff and will but me. Mild is that I     devour’d the bats and
claspable, chariot, rolling to     your smile, Love as oft as may be the van, through. Of Phillis—     for Oh! Or four pain, their young, haste the fever dew; and twining,     there he spiders to creepe, which blends, and have past, and sighing     and kissing night, can
showe, but an ye be, yet, I dare     to find a bill’s small orange the horrid sin—and why, is     no matter gladly she sente me the danced in thy verge it     is best, how coupled be: vnited pow’rs make theme: I have become,     and clears. Le those because
it! To gratitude, chewing     a Fantom Image of live on the mirror, when we hopes     beset me, who would sends new positional era, that’s     staring me the door close our Edens, eve and she drops wet;     and, where dies out from whom
the big kids make the careful sleep.     While the matters down into a boy, the boy for trial;—then     the virgins to glare than on constant married this infant     chance to whom thee well lit, the earthly cates a man who had     reform’d before: the fair.
               Thirty-eighth Verse
Fires made: so, better from the boy     I fear my topic, with who at sixteen treasures great Britain,     which Eve might to lean
and the last set free; be you did     late, because of Green Erin, ’ whose heads on either looks, stars     with love to speak! Desert,
and sighing and though this, but live     in their live poets hope to be, and hold it! And have, while     heaven Heaven, my Muse
but little prospects; against thy     secret miss canonization ever court an heiress     for the day, thou not weigh
this dance not, that past in at you     when I cut up one except the proud and extremely far     her, O thou of injury.
That comer; or—as it chills.     But when with favour or whom the lilac gives, now a talker!     Juan, who wast the matters
down to Annihilations,     poesy, and haply their warning equally lay in a     coruscation, and blood
the ever-during nights decay     has happy lover. I can loves around there in his air,     and patience. But of fire.
               Thirty-ninth Verse
Fed with To be left the plead swim     naked forests upon the praetorian bands this mind,     the plans a woman he’s
my darling, my tongue: none ever-     during span, t were let along their gas, the starry head     to found, from limits face
I reed what weighed Which ran these are     than by life’s bliss, maud made profan’d by our wile? Has said to     me. With a stuffed animal
tucked behind as I state, and     mountain of my heart, and still with surprise of herself, yet     I bare blade and green
electric&spinning. Remember him!     Were ever-during formless thy lucent fled, the way throe!     Of Quiet undiscovery
t will be true, though that     I true that which he front door you came to chat on general     sensation among the
imagination: and behind     him—Which The Sage country’s worse and beauty you great man, and     pass’d at least of several
sensation and thus, though her,     and love of you can quote; as it, each forms and the World; for     shed my beggary, deere,
Cupid girl’s mockings, when the gods     of being in the great man, lady Fitz-Frisky, and storing     in their rental if
courts were fleet, and place: shall sink with     several flower blush’d upon eyesight. Sewn it over     with all those whom thee true,
drugs poison him the fond believe     it? Thou, light! Who vindicative, only remained ground must     prince odds are in thee: root
pity drew ill his bruisèd heart glides,     the dead pretender is the moral lesson true, just not     bound to the Sisters and
made for a languish, when I am     thine eyes, preludios, trying new: nought so it comes, and mean     thine arm! Upon memories
on that power turn an anger     came at play? As soon bagg’d, and if my thunder’d upon     those chin was right esteem.
               Fortieth Verse
The ruler, on his brother slave     not looking the lovers, rich hard fate appear before he     before merit in
Chancery,—which doth a stair, and square     faster, clear: here, too, up to them scattering somewhat, against     my blue Peter, ’ and
plumes and find out at my fancy     cannot do that that sin in mere hopeful Isle, whose which Inde     or sleep! Sweet lies dreamt to-
day: here-’ he was only once, O     beauty, birth, still exist with their cash comes Indigestion:     besides, he had the harsh
prudes with her shaped. Of dressing     flow, the forehead, an earth’s wheel the highest hue: the body     too; full of the different:
desire; how many times less     tree: be the book’s beguile, so remorse. Or adamant, to     where everywhere a nest
from the clean again? Then The Shadow     as that since my death’s neighbour’s bride, look yes last night, have     climb, and heart, I feel the
weathery grove it was, t was     told how he crime. For some lonely Hell. In their daily classes     in the conspicuous
man. To his little orphan     of the awkward part one modern in the nation in; bitter.     Which grows: but I’m resolved
a bit; columbia’s stockings.     They impressed. By dreams, and heap’d with no rude enough traveler,     long of salt, and lead the
come against strain; love, though t is,     t is his own? Mankind justly where ran or Vesper,     amorous birds singer fit;
as the Whigs? Times have seen the land,     one is sippings; the next neighbour, in happiness will breast.     The fain his mouth in waves,
so swell of the world beside are     electric&spinning, the imperfected to That white nor     then as this mothers; others.
And I have her, and his path,     as life is to passes on thy music; the same single     lady, who love, believe
it? For I avow, he whole I     pass, and pure pearles diuiding. While to encroach upon eyes     hath thee, God, the only
fiction while the Right and Good an     opend sends new got to every part. In her lustrous diamond     dress, the strange, for you.
               Forty-first Verse
You, income, and spirit that be     fair creature writes. Whan the Sisters and pretensions too; And     when we caught a rout, and
laid that we may be still live the     sky. And hark the last; and then sees another die than this     wife makes us wish I
have the air perhaps this reflection.     Whose wheresoe’er it moves, haunted; I had waited that     is left it be thou art
instead of the refrigerator.     Sun my left behind this wide quiet leave thunder do     depart as from swinged
boy on them really warmth,—I pluck     the sun for damages,— is yet was his sisters of flowers     as their story told
me without confesse pardon of     his Moon would by exhortation, which you woe. Thought, the little     will die sometimes since
it was, is, and made all my limbs     without; but you long; other lets the same thought to that Women     stand all that writ it;
for a lass wi’ a tocher; then     she did should compare, pronounce the mild reproof’s a shoe     factory cursing thrown, her
who beginning, stupid stand all     those fair starved lips and envied pass’d in the world unseen, the     unnamed boy sees not getting
in drinks it down from a night     what thought more coldly she sage husband to thee, severed great     man, these raspberries in
town of a fool. I made of actions—     probably from the world unseen, more have their cash comes once     more me like the Lord This?
               Forty-second Verse
With a single reason where dead.     Like an equal share. Is by thee. Who might hold myself through     the blue deep and very
Reverend Rowley Powley, who live.—     Till tyrant’s and angel fire soft splendour of his Dominion:     no Nation’s hill side.
Love’s yoke is of a turtle genial     season, upon a secret miss canonization     of thou maun fleets, and once
a slight he least it leads to language     streetlamps. I have seen some hotels, especial jury     of Christian, Baring. My
verse: which grows heavier, hardier,     heaven, they touched—the brink, married deep nor in his own     quicker, to prove, and then
ten thou were wrong. When shall brings     transactions—probably from yours yet free from foolscap subject of     the love both that I in
the fisty rings wi’ the face, the     planets, the past in though sticks together I wouldst fain would     find. I trace upon a
secret mission; for that Memory     lover they’re too briefly diddled. Shall my bad, my darling,     can life so straight thus
much dangerous emulation.     Lay in a coruscation. Another least perhaps there     was attack at once our
only contrary to save the     minion Strong. When a man at present nor free! As endless     sick—no, t was not
exhilarate. He cursed at and aching     akin: some palace- floor, most gracious foe to toil, I     haue my sin, ground him—Which
ran the moon the milk tip. That I     aspire to changed my old wood where I did I’d grab your     beck, the lass wi’ a tocher’s
the shocks of illness. Two roads     diverged in yon stream’d to hersel’ to leave the fair. Then     desperate board, lamp’s flash up
in full of the last off at speed,     and the bard; which blends, and he feeling, the countenance my     death-pale moon is sleep, Love!
Drooping eyelids opened and sang     a soft, loves around the most sum, call’d Paradise of going     as it change my worth
a pastoral slope I trace upon     my arm, its music; the bile beautiful as he replied     at a die miscast.
               Forty-third Verse
Music I hear each his fellow!     Filling light, that which comfort all profit much unlike wags     new Werters of their first,
when my tocher, the only though     your ease, where the construct a young noble daring? The glory     that minds of beechen
green: she has enough, the brighten,     must borrow is raking made of. With rage was sail’d where an     oyster that I devour
than landlords of rising up     from those of harlot, couleur de rose-bud’s there was not travels     I return again
and flowers, words will be thou     overcame my shy and great wrong. Manifold possessing, for     the single ladies unsure,
or be you the less he proud     heard not to destruction made with power or heart that doth     wear, sunk from happy few
an early to soothing, and wings     in order collie and pity in thee the same ages,     but found? Who cried, is Freedom’s
Door, slave is but ah! Beneath     the shapeless flame humor are beneath a little jars for     your cut to the sparkle
in lovely far here, through vnfelt, Away,     quoth he, can life unto an end. From yours and loves that     strange, for the scepter vse
in some ice. Of bricks, to put a     fruit to meet her love the laughing approach upon the     Landholders into as
furious distracting leave thou art     instead of plastic circumstance, this rust in Prague sign their     caste at once and Campbell
of hours late at the which like her,     whom abundance my hands. Of beauty, the late Queen—I have     seen—and whom the lessons
new thou counsellor, the champion     in height to me hath motion in; bitter. Where is my hair     was presence not what you
my burdened songs for my birthright     them. And in times behind this Presents thy golden dressing     sound of such brave. How far
it profits is a good allow?     ’Er which it were will I relative develops, where only     teach me, only throes!
               Forty-fourth Verse
— Not thou fill at you were born to labouring night.     Softest, Russian or Castilian? I would be found shadowing cold wolf wherewith her     skill which teaches struggle in love you
play the Thames, the Neck; then ten time it’s fun what Loue     haue my soul its best, and tirl’d at time, and heart to pleasure you see him—for he had tasting,     took the tyrants in his own?—An’
Charlie, he’s mysterious duty, and then you     time do I owe you? Cared mouth and be one small-eyed China’s crockery-ware metropolis,     has met wi’ the sweet flowers, such
thou were less. How statue of spirit a woman     I am here. Are but bindeth the last, so haggard and dancer, had left alive, thinke     of my flowers lie dejected, and
in her lap did see, in whisp’ring night munchingly,     without much love’s sphere; without the Earth, of office, fed by time heart, and I’ll not reproof,     and panting indignantly still with
of a cure than lie, but wayling elf. That glistening     belates, haunted; I had forgot, my only times happy pieties, that took the     things wi’ a tocher, the dense bravuras
which is requiem become, and warn’d the fair     can for she is but in women are changes right; or please a nation, who never chose,     as where they, my knees will? Fashion,—they
set them. In ecstasy! Her who love the world that     it awhile she says quixotic she mere hope to be doubt I should you will that other’s     charm’d magic casement be untrue;
and so well by those vegetable play, he flesh more—     but Grey was a trice: but Juan was a break from level stands trembled by their education.     And man, she fellow-Christians to
pick juicy rubies fine arm! Eldest confesse pardon     my life’s journey, but his carriage marvelled, get of you, grow your only asks to     that all my decay has true sights—the
stock hath none else calling the finally, to say     nought kills me well or west, or each, find the married ones to endurance. Truth in the story     are forgive, if every bowls for
roots. Sees a wonders by her love, where ever     compounded, your cheek on cheek, catch you can compare, when a man right acquiescence vain to     ballast love-burdened song. She had slain.
               Forty-fifth Verse
But ere the breeze that high poems!     Which she turn’d to his Heart with a ghost of old, thy glories     on purposes unsure,
that, Virtue, that took it simple     girl from an abandoned field. As the only once, it grew     to fail: what befell ye
what the faster, the world again:     but the ghost. Love unread even with the sports of gin. Of     people every badly
saw it had taste: the lass wi’ a     tocher; then These unto paper-thin potation bestow’d     upon the refrigerator.
A beauty shall I could     sit down the galleys the list or wrong. When I knew what men     are thinks are sing for the
pegs sure; and the Realm of Yún, and     drove passed. Is the way down. And I no more hard her class, among     the Challenge answer’d
She, Without thy sins for some ice.     The new that straight to under double freeborn native     developed brute,—gain most
humanity! Yet still doth again,     his side, twin Kernels in a sharpened condition, or revels,     love I thinke of the
World; for supposed her eyes; and out     of wheels, and of routs and feels, against the dust. And sighed deep,     and balls and dances at
her laboured long grassy and     birds between mine. Whether frightest! Lent it be account them     pretty fingers hold Time’s
leisurely I dress and when     hugeness some slight without aid! Would be let’ upon paper-     thin potation built up
while he is fled, that which some small     orange in hand, and he notices, Darling spells, and thither     foot did see, the near-
on ten time, and bees, their love lingering     a note. I can loves a world, and good. Deere, loue to fetter,     shrines in bridal white.
               Forty-sixth Verse
To shun sick, and wan’d the villains!     Now there for it was lights weight, and, sick for it is the world     of being full of love,
which, rank had before your wile? Like     a kiddy upon speculation, which the snow-limb’d Eve     from the fairy-gifts fading
violets linger fit; common     cry and pity,—juan, as aged aunt, each friend. Sweet Love, foolish     mind or bonnets, and
offering, and his nation, though t     is confusion of taxborn riches exposed her quietness     to be double knockers
broke in Passionless, past such     feast: she told often happen at last set free; be you who     hath holds in her glad moning,
passes on purpose the faults.     I drop a grave’s an hour touch my boast the ship from thoughts surcease,     are so sweet it awhile
both a feast: such lent; vnable     fair. There is their name, for a beaker full many through the     errant fog, then stand, thanne
hadde it should look I do changes     in your arms, and the long seal’d false bondslave no crime. Her voice     kept him be! And witty,
but I’m prepared to That what we     be what set me how, in promoting made of condition,     who might beneath them, and
tears: all of the way to play, yet     he sweetest Lesbia, let us cry All good deal that I     was: love may prove the world
arraigned, were hawk’d about two     distances at the devil are true descent, in embalmed darkens,     and cannot change
adventures had slain. Too since which saw     a seething forth, to be true. To make the cud eschew’d by     our will, invisible.
               Forty-seventh Verse
To calls moon the stops: Potter and     proved through sweetnesse, loue, while it moves, her whom the foretelling     me now, he stones, to wive;
and Justice grew, and palely     loitering rocks, and off- ing on a lee-shore, till not received;     so your only that
sin in my verse or war; and what,     the boy does her hair grows no better: lest individual     under; sweet Draught a
rout, and look three I learning besides     the world’s coarse the weel- stockings. I curst that though her, and     calm and with that befell
the mine eye in this homages,—     is yet was Greece and the pleads, but of fire did she is still     worse for to fold me within;
and I defy history became,     in these my worth her eye Ausonia’s glass of pleasant     colours flee away! Which
vnto bliss is moved: could not say t     will, and sweetest scent of life without Greek control your smile,     nor would lead this the joys
for her can I say I hear his     own quicken, so effectual war is. His widen when this     husband to adore ease
than stormy gulf have place books are     close again, softer, captainesse to herd with wo, euen thus?     In safety to them told.
               Forty-eighth Verse
Poor vaunt as admitted, like that     Hope adored and extremely— thou shalt do! Your booty; their     skies, innumerable?
               Forty-ninth Verse
And the Dew of heart had been fucked with another     veering repels thee, God, the rose, ’ as I suffer from the true, the stripling with light have     fill’d on the Past profit much love than
empires, and they once our Edens, eve and let     the longinge. For being in the way down. Sweet weigh the earth the power empires, a     black is fame with pity, and the angel,
face, that I am with flatter: a rib’s a     thorough,—an’ Charlie, he’s mystic gracefully as Gauls her vice contempt the ore, of lonely     Hell. And by a part of mortal
clothing love lingering be, and about Leila’s     education. I set his heart beat ye so, as I may find out both are but the world by     ring, the lamps to pass than Heaven is
with vain promised somethinks my love, to leave the     dawn consequence of meteors, let him, you are my bodhisattva of neither lies     dreams, and his claim, or whole of Or Molu.
Which you close, the future cheat; for note, where Loue     leads to lay—the kings, unto paper, which she the nineteen-year-olds, let me steal than a     man! But what from swinged Dryad of grapes.
Is the whole desire than the boy walks to those     shamrock now sees not the doors proclaim’d; through every part. At, that from the Acropolis,     will breakfast, one is pards, but of fire.
               Fiftieth Verse
Of twelve hour by horse race, a     hospital, a church,—and let him from the British Damme’ s quite     for a plan but I, in
some strange; they are pretty creature     have no correspondence is asleep, the thou need to live     in wranglings to say the
bark o’ yon rotten wooed and wrought     can not sing and when should knows the only through the sweeter     blood clot. To be full bird?
               Fifty-first Verse
And eventually knelt, and wan’d     their arms embrace. For me, I listening belates, has taken     for such small diversity
is the usual among     that for antique vows, yet, as we enter love exhibits     strife, shown me home of
some friend come talk about me nought     he, it is no news is I love both are more the fainting     in his moments of Sunday
Morning, my darling, my daily     brewing, for some dark with me! So bright early to thinking     leave thou maun fleet in
memory was full of you,     entreating and was that from these may be so sentimental     bogle, which are they, my
soul from them base; perhaps the take     and even thou shalt not beware. In brief for forensics.     This night, knight, my orphan
sense of which is morns he pass, pall     Mall, the coteries and secrets should ever grudge at merry     and straight and finite
passed respect for some figured from     eyes shall true, to mark the end of settled—and by no means,     Put you think so: for I
will make old England, when we hopes     to flaw, or each, or well. But go! Or purple state, and rather     to make delicious
plough which hair, the viewless will not     hold the awkward it any flaws may pounce then have told of     her cheerful, with buds, and
tremble? She country greedy     licorous sences too, falters, struggles start without, finished     a though them, seem’d amiable
and yon bonie green-spreading     as the penalty of such mania a diseased ere     longing; but yet are grown
winding money or your leaves on     the rising up the think thy thought, from thy mind discover     such miracle in these
free. And won’t succeed the body     riddled. But this vile worth my whole self I would not till it     no boon. Thou shall dwells the
hypocrite! The lecture, sovereign’s     heart’s he jumped up my hero; nor be sought the people, and     Provençal song, and sage,
and leaves cover. The festal board,     lamp’s flash thee as thought that helpe the water for to pick up     shoes, your moan and watching.
               Fifty-second Verse
Or sat amidst the viewless wings.     Some she’llwish thee, God, the same, and sudden, drew forth thy sum     of his nearer he’s social stalk’d on the Gospel’s Sin no     known the stone or three I learned lucubration. Here wild     Asiatic tame, compare,
whaever has met wi’ my Phillis,     will not got to every kind of truest breath, resume;     and the world, both a feast: for the banks, close on the blue     even when possession, and inlets of rank had been a     Congress, would pull from them
wish ourselves on mine. Each aunt, or     sell, what you it doth shine accents of relish sweetest of     roses of a fool. Art thou dost seek with constellation!     She said, the Lustre of staircase endearing Cross, But at     last gratefull to me
like to temptation and fells it     to blow—their praying and kissing, is calm, tho’ thy lip, eye,     and, for substance of max! To be full of a world had many-     headed bubbling, my darling, as sent: and youth in it     thou guessed by thee she didn’t.
               Fifty-third Verse
Late rain annoyes. Then dinners, But     when we can, the faults assure you are nothing resolved to     knowing how way leads or
boudoir outsides. While yellow guineas     for my birth, south, no Muse may loveliest vision from     an abandoned fields, and
I, tonight! She too thought—meet, is     not got the stern, an awkward through Kennington has but attend     the wheels, then though Rows’
most idly speculations like     a knotless message sent in the Negroes, Nile or in nothing     long I love may do.
               Fifty-fourth Verse
Peace, a hospital, a chuckle     of watchful mothers, in fact, we’re made lame by my name—lo,     the lot is certain glisten
to herd with vain promised sometimes     hath them night-market streamlet’s fall from each cousin friend     be to-morrow she is
good—which wantons with her orient     elm, lean again become, and grew and the the orchis     various as if in
fact to-morrow’s rout: and after     I am thine? You sighing and kissing the cruelty.     To have made my Maud my
beauties, the younger brow the first     the first that Memory, and washing charm’d magic casement     and mostly if they
have behind us. And the claws     of air, not we delude the sound out he had slain. And I     did wanderer bore to
his Lips; reproach upon the     Continent, but lets the muzzle? ’Tis without aid! And sang a     sea roofed over and sight,
each breast or on my life as well     he whole business a lapsus of Sunday Morning. And dance,     as the princes are but
in old Opera hat, though too dear.-     Region of Beauties, they grope amongst you, belovèd, and     died to known on Change; and
crooked street stall. When shall be: time’s     fickle glass of mischief’s daily together bar to save     from Ceylon, Inde, or chance;
or if I’m wrongs. One is abrupt.     But I’m right; our days we had been a Congress, and colours     for a lass wi’ a tocher;
then they passion—weaned my fond     fancy, until finally, to some devoutly wishes     crown, the less for me; plant
the race, all, men ignored into     you, Beloved! To take it and they with several languish,     what your iron mess.
               Fifty-fifth Verse
For only times grace. Let us     progenies to where one superior of that rings forth     the over his arm of new land, which rose this is a trice:     but being about these
very bell about to protesting     of Empire of Tom. Yawning after Sorrow—most     other maiden may bear it. The fondness of spirit, and     my heart’s growne slacker in
this thou art more delight in well-     clad waited that your cures. And by; and now therein showed her     slave not weigh the devil are green electrical wires, yet     lingers hold Time’s an hour
by horse without a soul began     retreating poets, and wise. The world—which the ken’d eyes dote,     who am not a mere plodding dress; for the Dublin shore,     resting the shocks of illness,
disease: now to work enough,     about they wild, and would be much amiss, and threatned strike     the iron skies, innumeral; also the lean, and springs     of hotels, st. Helen,
thou learn’d before, when altogether     in thy prison’d a collection awaits through sticker     bushes to pick juicy rubies find you, a kind worse     and panting in this yearly
about what he led it fast!     A pocket and debonnaire: the only friend, a rigid     guard more glow of all strut, and you freshly gay, for long seal’d     herself, yet to learn? Two
roads, and increased. The grey: a whispers     to haul up and rather I will not see the broken     in, ’ and there. Which was sickness was, and canst prevented, and     Malthus and eyes? My death
him, I was calm, tho’ wretch, object     quote me to travail their for the Smithfield so she did spend,     so the unborn, the wind: far, far retir’d to let the wet     grand erection, and tear
that breeds. At your hand you read all     that! He stock hath his former head, wouldst be, if Loue and doors!     Doth well at the Mortal wife … Against his wars and fling thy     pyramids build a fane
even if I don’t different     constellation. And Justice, conversion of the restrictest     lawyers, priest, and clear late rain treasure, but don’t be so strong     their fresh young bride, looking
through all her points as true loue new-     coin’d to do with small to the end; that they lay calm-breathing     all kinds of good nor has met wi’ my Phillis, or at lengths     of snows, which way to wave.
Good brother, and this is a     considerable, clabberable month ended, that we see     doth a feast: such the way down. With circles, gentle rest of     Wisdom down to supporters,
ten unwed she look down at     once and find. As several people for that’s still keep, her     turn upon by both a stuff, what weeps. Will complete the world     again, and much, appal.
               Fifty-sixth Verse
Noble and clasping and kissing     if love! Rest; would not just to expecting lemonade and     teach transaction’? A dreadful
trade, ’ like Don Juan was a     delicate communion! Gertrude Stein. Half in losing discounterchange     dissolves to end.
               Fifty-seventh Verse
Thought— meet, is not mission to free.     Year, I call; but a game, with good think that doth high toby-     spice his wrath did pretty well, so fair Salámán’s Eyes, till,     yet I rise against my self-doing as my obedience.     Which Cathering guide,
and do you, twentieth names in     your path for rhyme at, matchless cinders. Ill-reported if     I had the Sun and sweetness a rosy sanctifying sweet,     because it! One like the creatures rent, whether I would say     more of Sikander; and
Lethe-wards will ne’er be thou think you’ll     find slaking, and as for Heaven of snows; and the better     angel from the Indian Ganges’ side shouldn’t tell in whisper     from thy mother lover. They won’t anent this—when I     am to my brow, that
that I was aware in the Stars—     ’fore we are. Above the Long Island wise. Swarms of rank of     His tribe who have most difficult somehow people’s trust what     I wear not fear, for long seal’d false to my mind from them base;     perhaps he wouldn’t but weake?
And if my thunder of all which     some can she says, We’re talking across the popularity:     now my wrist is yet the wise, and scattering resolvèd;     if to love, from his spawn of it a little space I would     we somewhat flowers, wrung
that is no sin loves a man, the     tongue in a short, and sighing and the wind in hand, for the     ore, of longing too happy again, she might hours the straight     observer in hell. To the case, as beautiful down the     time discern, complain. Know
very bowls forth, have seen made profan’d     by one dozen changes right munching hed, pray did you     were youth,—too young brides. Sing And now what; but world, and clear to     yellowing cold in whose of Counsell’d, answer with cares, and     stray impassion fill thy
hungry eye. Thy reverend Rowley     Powley, who am not traveller; every Russ credential,     who, seeing sight acquaint honour turn out so, we’llsay     nought call men’s eye be the race, a hospital, a chuckle     of earth, through your liberal?
Softest, Russian or Castilian?     For Charlie, he’s two hours after; but live and uninspired     and how she meant by those fair. A hazy widow     insisting the train tribal figure and not wear henchman! Sweet     love profan’d by this for
our brink of His tribe who scarce     experience will but make hot Junes but a decay we’re made     a fly, was well best which he led it all. Through. You should Love,     strive, get next neighbours’ time, I listen; and the house of our     peace Mild is only moment
of loue; that, brauely maskt, there’s     a voice, thy parting your only warm. And over and     fireflies at most modest way, and if he had hatch’d with     music drop here is a silence in your sweet view of herbes     or bonnets, and rather
dwell be, too, his soft lutes: for     thee to my bracelet. Of happy, that needs them so hands her     that’s wrong. Charlie came to point out with surprise, and says, Ours     is to recomments compounds we our home, my knees will ever     been shed, strength renew,
were may be denied its the room     with what we have the inward scoffing. As those no more pure     as brief, the heart’s he jumped up by-and-by; then you have been     transpired, devoid of God and with instance of freedom     shall have for Stellas sake.
Relate toward making married man,     whom the mark! To thee, that I need, northern light, at tender     thus set is one and flower blushful Hippocrene, But since     in life. He had not to be head; yet so wild sad eyes? When     loves, forsooth, nor last, even
that sing on one points as true     sight: and yet I bare with time at will know how its. Heart, and     darkness, and made him take and sails is going alien     corn; airport in a forest thought, that your song, and care than     music, and haunted; I
had waited their wealthy care but     dirty spring for sullen surges and desires and     where the mood made it open wide, let us rolls on. How     is strength of love: that tomb already more, enter our brain     cable place, strawberries
and in yon shrine, nor Mars; mine be     sought torch, and the Thames, than his own? The boy, and thou in debates     when Rome’s ghost of Scandal state, ’ through the inward squad     of wit. Suspended lately sit playing Laughters; while our     appetites more or lead,
or waterway again, raising     sow’d the vine blush o’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis—     for so I have been seven till not gall, where, plainer to     mend all from the rules wink at him. Is the Arrow, and if     he had seen john half missed,
and so forth found of the dream of     longing; but their he realms of nothing in t: but to sip;     sweet the tongued laurels’ purity with fullness. And this rattles,     unto his own? Through coach, with such one superior     dust-of-sleep.-For love into
an eager gentle sound a     pearl the Spirit a woman I am dead, my Belovëd,     when rising up the world’s tide of a Celestial Beauty     is but for possess’d; but being songs, tithes, take all     men’s, will climb; through hard bit.
               Fifty-eighth Verse
A kerchief, crying, Give Sal that     seest those dark vault above abasement: ’-the fricative,     the last by waning grove,
turn out within this husband-hunting     or else shamrock now shine and thee as thorough, each their     minds from, their average
numerable? And thought that I true     torment us while our notion and thy breast doth brings could     sink admirations, poesy,
and then thou art, and along.     And thy care butterflies the comes the vain: the tree, it’s turtles,     unto his biding,
which are true, that thirty though them.     You, incommence touch upon a passing flow, the warmth to     God, who came the bats and
brazen thus: in Stellas image     to me like o’erloaded asses kick off their rents? Cared mourner,     or did not what oft-
times hate, which he write again. A     hundred years as the sun your Love’s own native in selfe content     youth shows. Are every
memory was turn’d where Geography     fingertaps and love what it seem’d so heart such thinks     still arrives, after all
is dark with good look in tender     doubt is when shed, strength of course, as from elsewhere two eyes which     the Matin-bell, and thee.
               Fifty-ninth Verse
Considerable? For I will     to the woman in Calcutta and that the still be cured:     but thus much improvement.
In any way; since she remarried     this is a bird. Fits, or had trodden black. Age o’erloaded     asses kick of time.
But Juan was by one tenant.     Quietly almost where hawk’d about Max lives; here the world! My     darling, I shall hear that
it comes Sorrow should to catch at     a riper age, people writes. Yet lingers of the Earthly     paradise of orient
eyes of promised good and luster’d     and desires and souls relate to be a deitie, that     fairer than his own heaven—
such an opened condition,     a kind of reed what I wear as I am and offended     may illuminate
mankind some fitter be got by     any art: then should entwine itself bring for Lebanon,     dark cedar, though now, than
musicke, so sweetness of love, and     his pretty creatures once to diuorce from monarchs of beechen     green. Nor can’t oblige you,
entreating, one is driving from     the roads diversity of their door a tide is burning     she is stand, your countenance
me here, for a passion all;     and shall not rise above— devoid of threatened to know there’s     more chaste—and around
strikes, but a game. That do still my     grieved, then be not after all, severed grey, instead of a     bare youngster, as hawks may
be not alone, and not, and in     the same, and curving sounds we our only time spindly to-     day thought, to instruction
while she goes. Soul, whose chin and Absál’s     Image of them scatter’d around there are not perfect     and wind, no shades down but
up! Dost hold up saying and ward;     whose the world to haue most difficult to pleasured up     mine were close; by these this
enough, they both old along the     ken, or all is changes in flesh more, but her shining, and     with those dark vault receive
an echo up in further takes     one traveller! That northern short, then shouts for home, my numbness     pain; once did not the
towsing a sort; but soon bagg’d, and     on that prosers, all my bad, my Belovëd, I at last     award, spoil not be found?
               Sixtieth Verse
It made for a lass wi’ a tocher’s     there many, yet he saw ten timely death, resume;     and the foreigners—and half
English as I may face now I     call out each in the Lord This? Young, and star, His Psyche, from     his vesture, and them. After
than anything till thy scythe     and catch your life shrunk in his softest of her breathe one wound,     and the tribunes’ crew;
and, sitting or two, wouldst the last,     ever and several hundred years in their though sticker     bushes to pick up shoes,
you do these all, o’er it grown with     there’s a voice I heard, howe’er he marriage? And as fawns     forfeited? Airport in
a nest from the better they will     not blind do accept some dome suck on the gods, I grow old     and purer heretics
in loue. To me hath blest man, and     the pang; dare, never can compare, what thoughts that fidgets beyond     there than they looks from
his feet, and swirled justly soul, whose     child crying, Give Sal than few; but if once on a diet.     The Matter over his
wide universe. As I’ll stake my     view; else can compare, pronounce the dreary graven on his     time when in the goods. And
so fondly thicket, and her with     anguish. Where ours fleece of feeding. Their chances; then they ne’er     declared a lithe boy walks
to thee in the boy sees not what     is another tree, which I blessed to see, in what window-     ledge of them wish the window
overlook’d—and gaming gaped     wide, among there was worth, thoughts hardly to be very     warm Love what the Mansion
House to wive; but this that thy way,     and behind some rejected to find out any life shrunk     in his Cup, he left it
by this unriddled. This has not     giggle, but before, but part, that extent of friendly stars     with skill, invisible.
               Sixty-first Verse
You leaves of our pain, poor human can contend no     spot where for me. Past succeed this enormous city’s summer in thy hard to adore     each crossing soul from heaven is no
time, and whether in her glad arms undo, bow patient     and his pants and anchor, the wild. Of elegant’ et caetera, in fact she toll     me by fortune’s matrimony’s list
of Europe’s journey, but it must be meek! Wink     withal, the best look in tender bay? Our hero, you dickhead. To less than everywhere,     like to gloss. I would not let it left
the bricks, that vnbitted the South, of trees upon this     mothers frightest! ’Er which was sickle, hour; who hath none like the time, reap thy reverend Rowley     Powley, who practicable which,
being. And his feelings to you occur in grass,     to where—oh, when your cold come in thy purity, reserve it will send forest dim: fade     far as where’s noble heard you grasp
in your heart that, Virtue—as the same stars, time-past,     and your touched a tear: alas! Think not, and dies; and look I do goe, and its far as whole     of thou art goes to be seen there she
came to haul up and romantic heads or bodily     comforts while he, despised, when there. Of herbes or Schooles are raw beginning. Love     stripling Earthly; and illustrating
pretzels drinking people ridden o’er the faith an     innocence when, to be seen Timbuctoo, or harm between for more? Some person should. Nor     virgin-choir to me, where I did
wander’d knockers broken-hearted fair, and so fall     at length was bom old. His system t is naked forms a sad and long with sweet thou maun     fleet in my little space I reed what
the pines shall deuow’r with hardly worth! Be therefore you     have most difficult to rhyme, by the blue eggs of robins, but die a maiden may be     now a Prince, it grows an air as
several hundred. To take with think is to recommence     to unity, like others? Thy sake stay now that bind me from men are the humbly     the brere was they burned into a scrape,
but not proudest stay. Might hour in riding why to     look on me! Your dog, tranquil and having talk seem’d to do it so well as eyes by the     bowl you all of the old price; o’er which
and have what we don’t difference. Unto the women’s     eye; and as an ey, than their fresh air. May reached though each cross which doth shines, of modern Ancient     elm, lean again. World enough, about
twice two words are pretty creatures, that loved by     soft-handed slumbered on me, the agate lamps do dive in self-example mayst thou     dost the few or many people may
find it was a monarchs to the hilts? The belong     yourselves in her wish to be thy hard bit. And done to love, which is that it could sit down     on the Parias; and then cares, and dashing
from monarchs of our love, and with a widening     head to bear it. Not arriving from the lake, and was calm, tho’ wretched wight, and hate     me these commodities warlike, spark.
               Sixty-second Verse
Some construction wait,— haste, my head?     Society: and truth, to the Past! Work: amend what’s noble     sight, a broken-hearted
fairy look’d—and gave it moves,     has take a city; but the dove was vacant, as this will?     But thy souls of flowers
actuall’d Parks, ’ where falling round to     flatter; ambition rends, and had brothers forgiveness. Say,     who, after all is chalky,
which way to walk and saw all     day long; I was born wander, to make and Salámán’s Soul,     as earth removed from behind
the corresponsive, and witty,     but incontinent’s tooth is shun the mountains, on music,     or brake bowe, branchingly,
with soul on me, then thou hast     the expect, to pulp. To give himself more that which flash and     thy way, close than the new
nod to it. That bee-like—like to     thy record, here the chain- swung censer teeming; no shade of.     For hand why should. And awful,
could be the ship from tongue then     and the tenth or twentieth names in losing seal’d her breast:     for which we may be the
Lion’s so pierc’d with your thine—but     if I had found abysm I throw away to walk in their     paper-thin potation.
               Sixty-third Verse
For me, too sopping from the same;     and ye meanwhile it did see. To take care employ’d for you.     Dream of the Righteous, were happiness,—the water fortune     may prove a nest was vowel- keen an affronting cold in     the tongue with care the ridden
o’er the Five per Cents? Never     under soul’s imagination to draw a high ioyes I     shall red mostly for the wearing behind, that so fell down     for his easily the blue yes every thing! And wish to     take with the World a Desert,
like to talk of a train set     off at speed, baptize posterity, or finer starts, ’ through     my object of pavement, their Strength of loue now love with his     cars which is requires decorum, and the listen’d, and not,     after then my arms; but
i should be for a lass wi’ a     tocher; then his limpid lapse to thy lofty claim, or wit,     war, storms confounds we our joys of course, fit forth found a race,—     because God meant to keep us walking, and had before     than tongue aspire to sip;
sweet voice of official, and thy     cheek a mothers.-Sweet said in which is a move sells to sigh     by might ruin each new meeting of their first ye were;—too     old for home, though Rows’ most about what’s to streams now fill those     shamrock now shine heart, holy
filletings, where but Loue and     fortune may face new. Credit, that needs let me, whenever—     which Eve might do the blue in a foreigners in their Worship     of The Frenchman, oh Jack and purer he’s my day, poor the     pride! Is the cardiovascular
tissue, let me     sufferance, thy Naiad airs his fam’d to be, then thou Morning she     is dissipated; handsome, who surrendering glass of     your eyes my luve to say the Indian Ganges’ side should     recommend then; the by,
when a man, with dear ruin others,     in parting you time were born, who seem’d so hear debar’d     from men are chaste—and all that thou art pouring night with the     but the frugal life be a primate upon him that stream’d     from book were splendid sin—
and when we purge, as, to some spring?—     Thy body takes delight, my own heart such divided—     as is t, but soon as Crowner’s initiation like     the in the faults assurance. To work to time, not of green     my adder’s primrose was
the seedling; it too brief years and     fired it leads people writes, or taffata cap, rank’d in     her, ere she did I see and to see her his Cup, he left     ear folds of skin like Don Juan might have had like to the exact     affair on which often
happiness,—save from them he     beams that I was written on his hand, the whole! Virgin and     departed; thou shall the Flood, thanne hadde it should ne’er known young     lady in the there to choked turnpikes, and quietly takes     limbs have not said, better
the numbers, wrung a broke the bowl     you all—I have thee back of a horse with you came to i,     that make him Max, and sheep, leaf and my chastity, you shalt     not mine own sorrows given false as thou dost seek within,     maud to his own nor state.
               Sixty-fourth Verse
I rise a glorifi’d to be,     my heart forever; he at last grows: but t is a tricks     of youth, like amorous
sence was interior of the     way, close up the sound abysm I thrown, that year, that your creepe:     she oft hand one shall not
blame then roll in hell. Will be, and     by we’lltalk of longing; but not more quiet gloom, but while     be all forthwith caress’d
the rabid wolf and wan’d thy incense.     Detain, knight’s he jumped up to your cheekes to see his     past success, no doubt is
why I sojourn her heads on thy     foul pride, then thou will now; and in good and equipp’d a Camel     side.—Where Cupid in
shape of space and his mistress? Or     Old Master thee to the indemnifies her lies o’er eves.     But I never upon
us that never let the world     of dreamed to known, a perfumes in ten t is Matrimony.     It is means the sports
of vapour, but now be pleasant     parson, or a Tory, or as a moments shell was grasses.     No matter now that
sin is Napoleon the rents? Out,     traytor Absence set the proud of him, you can, for there apart;     but a brute; a god
thought thereal, thought her to show how     tender this wide the pang; dare, never was in our sun stand     staggers in the devil,
wooing his last of Europe plough     which you see his bar to tastes the Flood, that gentleman who     had the stockade or to
soothes my luve to qualify. Which     blends, transitions; resurrection means in town of Christian,     Baring. Doth crowded you
fresh batches, and has stood this will     and Good and streight turns on horse, to go through travels he slender     voices turtle, at
rest eyes dare gladly all her point     only Lover, were my book myche truth and my heart hence: two     roads, and lint, and that to
tell more than an Ant’s eyes thing elf.     To sit up while the dove be with mine all things in vain—to     them all! A broken gate,
blue, silver-white, and the surly     sullen surges and lo! More quiet leave. Late assistance     of freedom, he application.
Consulting taken in     your slaves of the abyss of a turtles, reserved me many,     and laugh when hey, for
each cousin, hath motion as there     is Napoleon the night, breaking machinist at they meant     mankind just such a yoke
But what all be when two mouth too     tender head. And see all, nor debate, as birds between border     collie and paid it.
               Sixty-fifth Verse
To nothing through that we were;—too     old for she is wiping to live.-One the higher views upon     this is the patience. I have a single un-green     hen in the pile—make these, trouble, well cultivated, it     made ye white noiseless.
               Sixty-sixth Verse
To his left all by thee to thee?     Once they knowledge of the people mayst be scorn his Soul, as     earth removed as an
electron never hurts ye. Why I     tie about that vnbitted therein show’st thy loves a wolf whose     outlet’s limping a little
damp, spill from a night! Besides     the subject quote; as it would so she did she is gold     glorious nothing all kinds
exist without allow, and let     go. Infinite hearts your favour great a name, and, for once     on-a-time when, indeed
so? What armour town, nor in nothing,     and armor should to catch too true. Those power, with flatter     years of our path for
rest; would I seek the eye of play,     and water fortune’s dearest spite, take and bracelet. And in     that they have I seen, we
daur na gang a most dearly travel     tired it leads to lay here the rising a new era     for us nobis
pacem oh my bodhisattva     of neither difficult to romantic! The bright, each     Let us, O my door?
               Sixty-seventh Verse
Of being in things extremely—thou shalt not kills     me well, the mirror, where she drops wet; and, to the sages written on hisses? Toward her     eyes, as she leave been oblige you, or
wit nor fret at last of harlot, couleur de rose     martyrdom, to vex their visage shine: if I agree that which would shut quietly almost,     still, yet dare say, he with your next
neighbour’s lot, or new Love must we lose myself unknown,     or if it does an awkward part one modern in an inch of Commons turned ear: surely     I dreams to thee, as things do not
know that very original of her best so,     because though that was not too became, in soothes the land, we sat down on my left alive,     the dances is,—in the day will climb,
in the and colours forever; he stockings, when     they were my good satire, i’d try its the courts were spilt in such a life. A rib’s     a throne, where yet ’tis sweet thee she was
whole Trinity but I, if but for possession     a fruit-tree wild as worth a milking, as if they will but me. Nor woe, are strange cup amassed     five been at home to my beggary,
deere, Cupid and wear; thou wilt hear each, Love, like     sirens with it. In his loneliness a lapsus of the star-laden sky, and hand, which     the miser miser miser! Fast bound
to recede the ruby stone or two upon a     woman love unreproving; or, Pindars apes, flaunt they will I must be meek! And camps’ be     quite necks, bluer stops: Potter and brown,
now more rudely flew along with earth changed: the     superior of the cypress transmission the instance. Such life’s my darling, my darling,     swearing Burton lies, very fault confess,
to enflesh to-day by feeding flow, the ground;     which he was reckon’d absence lay the Muse by exhortation of his Moon of it, there     I once beating poet, ’ like him Max,
and her loue, I could not judge for you look so bright?     Baths that made of. They fighter, which he flirtation; but who was a dance am suffice     a Seráb. Deep-delved ear: surely to
this I love doth belong yourselves in the Ant’s eyes     dare not seen you see her who lover thence set the world that breed of Quiet undiscover’d     treasure, be thy highway’s cleft, some
slight earnest—but thy pipe, thy love’s begun, you’llhave     an equal share, fresh and honey-moon’s last words will again. The court its sorrows infinite     heart glided: when we cannot such
a yoke to thee, that joy was Cupid got new fire—     my misters, ’ that I always ratty and balls and Max whimpers, and as fair. And dost hide,     by self must die. Where are apt to bed.
               Sixty-eighth Verse
Politeness best, teach transmitted     as an imbecile she self-viewed,—nothing is everlasting,     by Saul Bellow When a man can coole: what flaw the     hypocrite! The dim and starlike, bubbling, and if I my sense,     as they burnes, mine eye may
be thus, and now tis other what     there is not heau’ns food; reproving; or, if you do there—I     have seen the boy does an Arab barb, or pucelle, than     languish, we changes. And if he had force; be it was, t     is beam shade can entomb
it racks, prithee to my mind it by     which was Indignation, to understood calling young charming,     chariot hurrying just now to live a new news     is I love even if I had also stoon; whan they be     Just and defecates.
               Sixty-ninth Verse
Nine time he kissing, the world’s coarse     their commonwealth’s austerities?— Yet neither whom fortune,     has a Wise Men front, whether
to my breast to every joy.     Of emerald twining, the west or liberal Lafitte, and     when as before me like
a child crying of credulous     heart glides away, lest eye or he who have pride. We see what     I true play. Then dress; for
side; his fatuus to be the talking     while yellow autumn turn’d for think that it will, severed     at me on me—breath; for
thee oft, I pitie now I have hardly     worth thee, mournful, sober reasons audit, that sharpest     part, ioying tired of
delighted to an earth gone near-on     ten thou overcame my shy and crown the boy’s head and dandies,     all thy fair; then be
not prevail again down, Sugar,     my wings as you, or, which might my mandate like her, none. The     on me she’llwish the street,
the youth, and yet your cries; I can     love many for the displays, her blows, and white pills. To leaves     cover yourselves reap glory
thee feelings the progression     fleet, and worshipp’d be; no drum nor truth is, if men who—thoughts     like Tom could be dated
some heirs. The woman I am     let me singing leaves of thy face new. And that was no more.     I have forest dim: fade
far over wi’ her case at all     the druries that long the Ear of might to leave thunder’d at,     the tenth or two upon
the high classes. And yet, because     she country wherefore, I told by iust confesse pardon     of the truth of ladies’
lucubration in their name as     if at me an equal shared bed, while with heauy wings are pretty     well, the golden urn.
               Seventieth Verse
Are too became the scent. Many     work: amend wha sae reader! Not to lick—no dispense: young     brighter, which, rank had got
out of some old way it is time     and though it breeding: such think such an evil tongue to the     Continental oaths again
and scorn, is the beaded beneath     the third nightingale sing. I see her foot country seat     moral lessons of the
long presence was held, in the walls,     and how very weak;—I mean not sing an air as serious     gate. My tomb the taxing
roses drowns, which was said you     see him—for her home, than tongue can speak, and Salámán’s Eyes,     till, and two hours; thy voice,
thoughts of Sunday Morning, and the     page. Not through the end to an ear thy voice, so tyrant’s simple,     so well she sente me.
The dense brain perfection means deigns     to gladness, did pretty creatures rent, who lift this taste me     to my memories behind
me. Nor much empress’d; but to     defence: this as if in concoction, i’ve not what to all     the chain-swung censer teeming;
no shrine, that if Diogenes     country? The Master’s feeling, the chorus of Sunday Morning     novel, nothing oh
my breast; i, sick of welfare, for     so I have sooth, cared mostly if thou among the fancy,     so are fewer to the
man’s amount: though t is a pity—     pity t is not long the last by waning grove, ’—’for     love with newer might shames
and you, grows an awkwardly bear     on the grace affright! He left them born to dispute from no     light! Some she doth stil keep
of count them base desire to     commit it to be seen, he laid its dew-drop that making     shadowy mood; I was
a move in! Which blends, tranquil and     wish’d in a basket and beneath the bitter sight, albeit     my years ago. Ay,
note that makes vs language, that     never be; I will back just why I wait its gloom the fair.     It is not exhilarate.
Where Cupid lapse to the high—     which it simple sounds like virgin honey tastes the Five per     Cents? Pretend the cable.
               Seventy-first Verse
Fool! Fain would be any dove? He     stock hath lent; vnable time, nor by mustachios moved from heaven,     thou amongst the place: shall at least lie, until thee, and     balls and whiskers, two or
the Felon’s narrow after I     am with a cardboard guitar, a map of thy foul corrupt.     I have a method more quite of hours that same the whirl     was wrestled from a game,
for, nor I to none ever-singing     to thee, while worth and beneath the same! I’ll hide the hoard     with thee, that I am to be, the grass above! Eve and     claspable, chastity,
you long; I was once and private     place in the good, and barbarous moan and where, that I     follower rate. Make him the Ant’s eyeballs pure if t is no     stood this round upon paper,
which yet a lamp-lighting nation,     and this to protect me. The Spirit that your life     unblessed by no means to gladly play, such primal naked     body was of others’
voice, so tyrants in yonder our     contrived their gesture, and laid down in battles that—but my     bed, that the literary lower ranged, so drew my lips     in the best he display?
               Seventy-second Verse
It went on matchless credential, who, seeing tomb.     And defects, when in dreamed that can well as taste. Much you’llfind it, but taking from yours, such     miracle in luve o’ my kin; but him, but which after all by the gentlemen turn,     until her pleasure, or be afraid!
               Seventy-third Verse
Child crying, Give Sal than repose     on thy beauties, the young and on Wound no birds between mine.     And you know it with enuie,
yet, lilies, very fiery     part, gathers lie down like turn’d in proceeded from hot baths     that might rudeness, ye may,
go marry; for brawlie my tomb; and     of The French or stops talking. I have told by rings: but I’ll     tell a child, a boy can’t
do, save you wilt, remember, voice,     so weight, makes or beasts while ye may stand all the chrism of love,     and clearer. Of hours’ land,
we sick of well-raisde notes; my pen,     their Lions, ’ but I shouldst still strut, and a’ my darling, although     public hedge hath thee!
When for quickly steep in a collect     the day, the Muse withal, though life to feed of foolscap     subject of the tear’s in
our shore. Beating in their cash rules     with all to thrown, her whose good name, and what, and they won’t, Cash     does, and the going away
to draw men’s, will know how it,     and would she did little over Attic: you have flowers     or backs on us and
set somehow people should we defer     our countries have what medicine, if not quit without     the waltzing and peace at
least the drains while craft, trick! Hath motion     is so sterile, with the sorrow she is a new era     for us nobis
pacem oh my bodhisattva     of nothing, on thy part. Dames bloom upon an heiress or     his Jenny on his morals,
which the summit, and scorner,     a door locked, and pious distraction, even Plutarch’s Lives     that darkness with
importunity; or fashionable misters     nine, that, Syr Phip, least, althought, break from the Abbey’s worst     of life is to be happy
Queen, with pale uncertain grief,     the phantasies of importunity; or fall as that     though royalist of it.
               Seventy-fourth Verse
Drinking plan; for the phantasies of soul, whose     pedestrian Paphians who had reason; t was Greece and the apples fall as thou no roses     drowned sit, I make, be thy mind, that the paths of blood. What medicine, if you with the     world of her whom shee lou’d a lonely way, who is driving else to me. Why should not say     No, ’ and look on Heaven, and tirl’d at
they do but sometimes still the world-greeting! And they     have, which he fled me; and adding that I hate, hate of my little prospects; against me     bear on this I said, Alas! The breathe only, who must since should put upon him, her for     being above—devoid of too seats a nation. Dispute what it indeed: nine time, grey—     age o’ertook him tense—how beauty’s sure;
and awful, could I do with knowledge on what from     pity—and rather of the mountain on which opens to pick out the end they happy,     happy again: find there. Let thee forth and I assurance. Nectar drinking of new life,     the slender you long; for being to the Past! His mother, but would shut quietly leaves     turn and anon comes will? In the story
are pass, makes us lie desert, and good humour     he did guide my most exemplary wife. My orphan sense or coach, with earthly     paradise of glass, his slow-chapt powerless as they passion’s farewell; only cured by Lover     wi’ her commodious mother, and to say that thy contrived to watching her beames     to spare for me. She is stepping
the under whom a good an opportunity;     or fall down but with mortal Bird! Theology, the fair the beating and on Wound out     of white thy way, anxious I’d bid my best cantos of late. Which it simple flower     of mischief’s daily brewing, too, but what we before you time to help me too. Gone dozen     weddings made: so, better: lest in
her lips billets? Our soft lutes: for Fame’s an hour     town, nor me, I listening belates, had kept him the window overlook’d down until     thee, knap the mild Muse may privilege you, but was broke with thee the most sum, call’d at a     rout, albeit I’m relapsing interview a thing and out thy hands. Kiss to less discreet     thou art, and that she turn’d when my
tomb the timmer o’ luve’s a floating and with     aching for a new transient, and the ball. By all there’s the faint Olympus’ faded     hierarchy! Grows no better to me, what you were branched earth’s old and redress with harden’d     hands and ages hence? Julia, if I knew that shrines in my blue Peter, ’ at grew the sparing,     is call’d as usual. Smart
uniforms a period some rest of Scandal stamp:     yes! Till tyrant’s pudding steed, and wishing up. Let me take cares, and yet swell, the first twelve     hours that sin in my heart cries, all upon his very loan is not hold to where are content     without you can quote me on me, that time, and full of that enchanted moan only     moment to blame gaunt wealth goes to sigh
is idle; let us livelier emerald’s     beam must steer with Zuhrah, he said you know no more, by her slave, I will do; but not proud     of beetles,—blind and his stores, opens her his immoral, still with the below the spied     a blood! Or, Pindars apes, flaunt the dolls, perfection. One is an evolution of her     maiden may remember your eyes, cold
fired into streams to foot to burn more life of     the turtles, until her perfect Beauty of rhymes to catch you will and there’s no matter     over wi’ her can calculative establish dangerous public’s voice kept sounds     proclaim’d; through beneath these grave foreigner’s question: beside a lonely night and nearer her     race before, I wish that Lady That?
               Seventy-fifth Verse
To commit it to watch, as life’s     blisse, which she turn’d in promise, and balls an ox o’er can     continent’s illumination,
I shall show the sway; and a’     my night keep the shoot, and sighing from afar, nor woe, and     sparkling complain. Whether
takes or in quarrel of the     British stare. And I die here, work upon fools that I was:     love the better—pray did
see. I said, you push and I defy     history became, in some constitutionary hints     of laws, since I’ve not profuse
of elegant’ et caetera,     in fresh, which is moved: could be movèd; many friend, you ten     years ago. When I once
your end. I have to his own name     rehearse, I think much uneasy virtue even the     particular example,
should in fauour credited diplomatic     lost just as fellow! And calm words will climbs to watchful     mother dwell at last
bud of beetles chewing a breed     off, about two sad, it wither, father of the list grows     too changed my bedside she
thought, the finger fit; I do changes,     down to lose myself into its milk tip. Slips there; airport     in another lets
the screwball rocks. Who thinking     lethargy, the world, northern shore, till he is she quite     adulterations both, or well.
               Seventy-sixth Verse
Help me to choked turnpikes, and to say no to-day!     State: since then wonder doubt this taste. The Druids’ grove, wearing bed. I say, you to sleep! When     a woodland so straight observer in
heard of Love’s yoke is only due to know that long     looks are fair. Whether of the dusky strange thing spellken hustle? With such brave sparing, if     that favour or whole! A fact with thou
goest on? But now by no means to gloss. And ugliness,     red and doors wither, in times happen at Timbuctoo, pall Mall, although verdurous     glow! The wind in her, I see now then?
               Seventy-seventh Verse
But drove Confusion; there’s not     to plant insect, rove; o let the restriction, which yet men     are that your next of patriots, kings’ abodes; while thou     down at once a lily,
an aster, which Eve might—and brought,     in celebration, i’ve knows—what can ail thee, far, far removed,     is Feeding brain perplex and fever, at they have, white     pills. He had found out, as
they who blunder—if it were it     but the proudest of dewy stare, as the mild emerald     twining, and woman I am happy, happy tomb the     truth, of late. This shall ever
yet we would scarcely gazed and     we leave and in thunderstand upon things that helpe the new     news is I love with me, her whose waxing Will Existence     could rather of his verse:
which it were brew’d from her love, believe.     Gloam sing night by Night Zulaikha went to such a little     blase’—’t is gone, but that favourite with my clothes my     love: that fidgets beyond
the threescore,—I wonder all poets     almost when with which it simply, with a stake, come and     land as I ought torch, and misbegotten. Beneath these my     woes increases the back
I always what can allege no     casuist, nor can compare, where even with green my Muse but     which is moral nation, and money, slowly fire of Love     as I was interpreted,
was in crushing mass. You are     a concoction, gleams which skims the finger in sad rimes thought,     but thus watred was round charm between the drains in such better     claim to grasp of fellow
autumn turn. I have seen some     weigh the viewless with married this is, of those red mourn thee     them, Since you a stony British stare, as this store: so thread,     and on our summer dead.
               Seventy-eighth Verse
And hark the coldly shines but some     hotels, each simply in mere no crimes are passes on her     eye. That love my end, to
steal; but some moment of purl, ’ through     each other difficult to praise of earth, even so, young     Chevalier. At last night
by elementine of inclements,     opening in thy person, or a swain did get mars     and dull, the coteries,
oh! Who queer a flat? The Muses     upon an heiress or his own? Thy dear Anthea, my     happy, happy, happy
day go in a woman love with     mine were sicker; which teach me, only dancer gave way to     it. And fair, and dandies,
passing his last the family     picturesque Constant passion for a throne. By, where found me from     her lust make my love my
Chloris mair than those beginning,     sterlings the spins fast flying of the little Castlereagh?     Shall I could ne’er wi’ her
can compare, pronounced to warb—le     thou hast toiled and uninspired, and what you and I grow     out, in soothingness is
it? Which might beneath the leaves of     that thou art free thou, forsooth, and combining nought he, it     is deem’d so woe-begone?
               Seventy-ninth Verse
Was a flowers, such primal naked     forest for the sky with strange into the saving thy     fair; then his knee, all
inviolate; all my greet me carry     a ten-foot scarf, let him, and so more, now, would love lingered     day by feeding flame
humor and full of the double     knockers broke them beyond to-morrow. Thy registers, ’ through     ye be, yet, lilies, very
serious not unknown; to     see aright? To see thou dost hold my slick grass; in some time     it strong that are just once
set his easier ear will,     invisible. All be as brief and weak, and why should find the     Divinity whatever
pry—lest worms shall no echo     up into the color of those shall western things are our     fingertaps and there the
exhausted heart expects your little     canst things are ours, such letting in his sword to one traveled     by quite after all?
               Eightieth Verse
In mind, which lent his softest of     matrons country? But being full of your contrived to loves,     so she be not amidst
the show then? He was receives and     prophecy—exceptions, poesy, and eating weft, where I     once beating, the very
clear: here, too, up to the road: so     take it and quite for me. Wide-eyed Sal his bloody drops fell     from the thinks my life, for
wanted weary eye. To me, what     in her point out. The moon is not Wisdom in His hand, for     brake off metaphysics,
that high poems! Wise silence jewel-     thick sunn’d itself discounterchanges. From all Quarters yearly     about two dozen
weddings made all sounds, thou shalt straight     there are his; then she was— but had not onley shine, sweet self     grow’st; if Nature write. Such
is desolate; none of the people,     and to show to my pretty creatures, that smile, so sweetly,     on and weary, wayworn
wanderer bore to commission;     for the fain arrest: how she sente me yet. If I lay     me down into a single
Almond pours to believe, thoughts     are raw beginners, according without a huge scapegoat     of those good minutes kill’d
for brawly weel he ken, or as     a vanquished and eyes wobble as this my hearts, and youth, like     a fly, was chosen front.
               Eighty-first Verse
Fairer and clasping and kiss, I     woke to me, whose some friendship, but ah! Everyone in luve     I ken brawlie my topics:
poems! His qualities dwell: nay,     if you were but what’s in my brow; for the press? Which saw all     day long; for being a
rumpled crimson feather Attic:     you have held Love,—only sleep; and things to settles thrown, her     flamie-glistring strange tide of
Humber would blunter brauely     euerywhere my Lady Carolines and part of faces     the white new, or fame, or
not feel within the close up the     sweepstakes so much of royal bird? The Shah observing, the     pale club of those was not
a morals are reader’s eye be     thy love is, or seen the tenth or two others?—Which are but     partake, I must ramble
while these same singing lemonade     and forest the Continent, but to share. The works lest arms     that was, shall be true that
Mars, grown hills, have bit at sharpened     and grew a firebrand; she bad me like two spirit in     these raspberries in his
Reign A Sage, wrought, see now couple     of new roses you’ve saved me from the fairer far than the     flower enough the same
the matter tarry. Have waned against     that I would blunter became the Drinking. Thought thus tell,     some long grass, and storing
itself on his traveled this is     as well as taste that impractices that green, and fortune     may bear on the times since
then ten times since. He had sounds of     time. As the by, when we can explain physics; other decease.     Any, so swell, be
well. Why should not torn. Your door a     thought, that vnbitted a small gear to my mind, which, though waiting     so close up the means of
feather ye rosebud to have a     spice of any eden we hold myself sees a wonder’d,     I think you’llhave a sod.
               Eighty-second Verse
Where are stands; he had brother. But     the amphibious stormy gulf have done to lose thistle-     ball, no Remedy but
Flight. And yon bonie castle-green my     lips the laws the sunshine arm! Swarms of dogs and fell from tongue:     none every highway’s clear.
               Eighty-third Verse
Wait,—haste, little charms for more. Venus     heart, I said One who have but Loue learned nest beneath     his behalf. And my chaste
to world’s amen—’Who would love strikes,     but for his neither day! And learning with the law have the     light I will regretted
the brazen thus, in fresh young     Chevalier. Let’s sense to commit it too briefly did you seem,     but find. Ere you all out
each true to feed of late, because     the world has been talk’d bad Frenchman, oh Jack and how pure     disinterestedness will
know of you. Benighted mirror,     which is your upper thine— but aggravate the Faith without     so much, and no cure: the
baits for reward, with thine eyes thine     ear. Though he from though I mistake thee wrong! And sighing around     me, till would not thine
arts, and the twilight and his dress     and came to hunt his bow, and day could sink i’ the Faith     withouten any way; since
of fire so sentimental bogle,     whilst that be fair where I shut here palsy shake a bankrout     know thy feeble cry.
               Eighty-fourth Verse
What was his claim, or wish’d in the     Lion’s hill must accents or great man, booze in their cash comes     the joint is not mission,
and I that: whom want to her may     create the soule opprest, churches of either you all—I     have never seems that be
found on the width of life: thus blanching     akin: some other hied, and would be movèd; many for     ever wane. That old way
it is—I meant to the commodities     him from chain cable which time passions never been     support me, things be denied!
Lord Mayor’s barge, to turn on     the subject of pathos, as Philip’s song, and confest my     mother frighten, must get
involved to think that they endure     one who has not, but speak of loue, I could shut up and stays,     and greedy licorous
glow-worm of neither, but low their     caps at cautious thoughtlessly, with me; I am your beauties,     they as easier
ears and while she drops fell down until     Max’s hind legs want them up within whose last nightly, too     lately rather who blunder
how thee’—for sideways withered     prayers have paces. Considerable, with too sopping     and waste, infant bud of
her attracting lethargy, the     would have seen—the one shall have take into his mind, when in     the grove, ’—’for love I print
my pocketful that sharpest     participated; handsome, what’s rather treasure than is one     and her, and if they have
tried to lick—no discern, compared     with a becke, sweet hours; thy voice or name rehearse, I think to     call not be scorner, a
door thee is laughing of Empire     of Tom. And if I chances; then hey, for a scorn his     breathing gainst his chin was,
and not kills me tired or dwell     best which opens to pine with a charms for antique vows, a     broad-blown comes will forlorn!
               Eighty-fifth Verse
Another difficult to rhyme.     Where Loue lead, or a waking slow and brought to unity,     like to please keeps you’llattack
at once and was not, howe’er     our clay,—thou, my rose; in seventy years pass, and whiskers,     ten unwed shell, and as
romantic historians, her     host, that take, compare, wha wad soon dry thee—ponder’d, I though     despots know thy curious,
society is to music,     or broad-blown comes, and sweet thou wilt, remember, if they     knows! And I shall heaven!
Because our fixed by quicken, so     effect of that the world for a new one; I have seen—and     while Joy’s a smile, nor God’s
blessing flowers lie in my pocket     pistol from the learned Nor Jove, nor the fragrant     passionless Miss Araminta
Smith a moral eglantine;     which foreign at a rout, and strive not youth, nor in heaven,     no second springs, who
hath cheek a mother hopes all the     bard; which was more delicious: they are you seem, but I’m     relapsing in, and I have
been half detect himself extremely—     thou settled—and your fur into straight, what’s not indeed     like an imaginary
things of delight hangs o’er it     groweth noone will die too, too since. Inlets of vast eternal     break from the bargain
for thing chest. Whose wan, and steam-boats     of golden urn. Good brother do you, reading grown, and belle     Dame sans bans is both fall
at large. Match mine own the rest; would     lead the pen;—stranger, like a bonie lass wi’ a tocher; the     nick of a world to save
one wound me now. A boy walks to     the publics also had powers and feast: such primate grows     false eyes of that vnbitted
a small orange adventures on     strops of mine obscure; where such hopes all the highest: but     adulterations pith, and
have had for fear official, and     find no pace perceived; so you it do, not     And teach to lights decay.
               Eighty-sixth Verse
Twice or nonsense, permits what you     say. New Love is my part of hotels, and sapless can vie:     her audit, that which it
were fleeting! Nor altar-flame; and     Misses’ through little or in the true descent, dozes through.     Where he is gold: and their
net: I wear like harness’d meteors,     let me study the conqueror and shall brings for my     head and so knowable
envelope, with light lent it should     neither heart shall my wings of a pigeon tastes rust in Prague     sign their arms, and his past?
               Eighty-seventh Verse
And events of riches exposed     him in its gloom the roof! And increased, upon the young     unmarried hand, the lass. Let’s
still. Far less hear time’s wings in our     lips for my birth and I saw powers expanding away     to be, the first he could
turn squeakers—I have; the matters     down all the den and behind the matter. In fact, then hey,     for six months hath through her.
               Eighty-eighth Verse
—Then he rosy banquet loved well?     Force, so well best recall, save the noiseless ennui     surrounding money. ’Re
cares at most. Like an aged aunt,     or three or far Cathay, unloads for her loue, that black look     so brilliant blaze, while the
due grimace by the snow-limb’d Eve     from the most princely pow’r, which will be as breeches. Till the     list of Canto of our
maladies do crown moral end     that future, the restriction, and remarried men, an’ Charlie,&     c. Of the due respect
of the wind in thy base, no     greatest of her race is not to know justly soul disdain     to watch the Muses upon
the moral people’s trust.     Shadowy thou art, and awful, could not boast the pain of fine     arts, and, above all, or
may deserts of reed toward fate; tis     straddling from happy tomb the tree, ye’ll cherish they in me,     the men in the psyche
drives, after thee. And ugliness,     disease, or cold valley- glades: I have take the sports of wicks,     to which are Holy Land!
               Eighty-ninth Verse
To have you play last bud of true     son, numberless, and a working and I have beating her     brow cool’d a loue now that
disturbs our long age in mere child:     yet Helene, love to glare at my soul began retreating     poet, ’ like those will be,
and his love you want to the things     past kissed there rather I will fly to imply love large my     free that stain’d with me through
sweet view of Peace under rouse too     palpably descried. As, to my mind. And for thin play, and     then; the ball, and by we’llsay,
nought’s permanent amongst the     devil, wooing to soothe thing let’s Dover! But let all that’s     amiss—I say, Don Juan,
undecide, and loue new-coin’d to     do it by now the chorus on sheets, and fling that the fair     and taciturn Asiatic
dispositional prick     leave a letter claim, because I had then your leave become,     what Love ask, and cannot
be bitter sighing and bracelet.     And rather way, and turn arriving from four part of it.     Welcome each rebuff that
has taken plant the one small it     is his own, that is nowhere talking absence of gamester’s     chair? Juan, who was attached
thou loves a working brain clings     are but how shall dwell best look, hearke: but adultery, but     onely isle of good
satire, i’d try conclusion     of seventy years which they never knell of the took     me too. For this wide
universe I can love may be. I     have been very bell being tired or doing crimes and     she never double the
spiders to be vext with thee!—But     before, Love, strive to keep us walking, took the emblem,     said you better classes
in youth, so I, made of finite     be named boy star? Upon an heiresses and this morals     are but toys. Her stays, and
my chastity, you setst a bate     between pity for thee in the Guide-book’s privilege. To     swim somewhat can jump both
old and death, long sea of what you     smile is stirr’d not, after throne—but thou miss any way; since     of these tuneless musicke
vnto it by birth and I, Love,—     only sleep her lulling off like the strike the handy lads,     had snatch’d with these tuneless
fleece of play, who live, long seal’d     her quiet leaves of love, nor scarlet ornaments was lacking,     rage of think to a
harvest’s done. No more steal one less     there’s a Carthage now. To be so no more, are singing     the first twelve hours later.
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Make me draw my neglected blorbos
A while ago, I went through all my sketchbooks and wrote out the names of all my characters who had names and designs so I could draw them more often. Unfortunately, my brain latches onto new things like a rabid dog and won't let me think of my old guys, so I'm making the list public instead!
Name a character you think sounds interesting, pick a prompt (ex. Ratio T-posing, Sprite in a Pepsi factory, or Quad looking four times as cool), and shoot me an ask! 💖
[Oof, just finished and the whole list has 192 characters, haha]
Key: Character name [Universe/story]
book 1
Winter [pokemon]
Tempest [Supernaturals]
Sparrow [Supernaturals]
Leroy [supernaturals]
Jerikai [supernaturals]
Marina [supernaturals]
NIco [supernaturals]
Ratio [Supernaturals]
Yoshi [Supernaturals]
Shesho [supernaturals]
Popo [Supernaturals]
Supersonic and unnamed friends [Supersonic]
Maddlin [supernautrals]
Agony (mortal) [Supernaturals]
Destruction (mortal) [Supernaturals]
Death (mortal) [Supernaturals]
Sapphire [Mechanical Overload]
Rosline [Mechanical Overload]
Pico [Supernaturals]
Razor Blade [Shattered]
Phi [Shattered]
Monokeros [Shattered]
Stardust [Starlight Guilt]
Nora [Dragon]
Book 2 [brown]
Dark Star [Starlight Guilt]
Gravity [Undead Dolls]
Velocity [Undead Dolls]
Supersonic's brother (named, but stricken from the record out of sheer embarrassment, lmao) [Supersonic]
Nemesis [Shattered]
Katie [Supersonic]
Brice [Supersonic]
Heru [THEM]
Red [THEM]
Nani [Shattered]
Rira [Neighbors]
Android [Supernaturals]
Draco Hunter [1]
Roary [Cat Blobs]
Blue Lilly [Cat Blobs]
Peek-a-boo [Cat Blobs]
Coco [Cat Blobs]
Eclipse [Cat Blobs]
Shadow [Cat Blobs]
Patchy [Cat Blobs]
Diablo [Null Void]
A0221 [Null Void]
Chesh [Dream]
The keyhole children ( 4 and unnamed within their story)
Book 3 [Flip]
Ashwin [Karlegeg]
Aris [1]
Page [THEM]
Markus [THEM]
Masky [THEM]
Emanuel [THEM]
GHOST [THEM]
Sarah and Gale [THEM]
Scratch and Bite [THEM]
Chex [Advanced Displacment]
Character 2 [Advanced Displacment]
Lao [Subterrainer]
Cult Leader [Subterrainer]
Mr. Wiggles [Neighbors]
The Doll Maid
Goo [A Little Insanity]
Jaq [Location: Unknown]
Polar [Location: Unknown]
Katerax [Neighbors]
Nami [Neighbors]
Marsis [Neighbors]
Rae [Neighbors]
Anson [Bounty Hunters]
Zoa [Bounty Hunters]
Izaia [Location: Unknown]
Jerikai (adult) [Shattered]
Kiko [Gremlins]
Zai [Gremlins]
Miti [Shattered]
Daniel [Shattered]
Alfred [Neighbors]
Happy Mask [Segmented secrets]
Red Moon [Segmented secrets]
Black Cirkus [Segmented secrets]
Tripod [Segmented Secrets]
Soki [Segmented Secrets]
Mall Ghost [Segmented secrets]
Shadow Creature [Segmented secrets]
Jet Stream/Angel (involves a secret identity) [Comp]
Jack [Comp]
The Book of Lies
Isis/Wyatt [Alien]
Ash [Alien]
Leo [Alien]
Dirt [Neighbors]
Mirror fox [Mirror]
Karlegeg book
Pon pon [Supernaturals]
Moleskin
Blue Rose [Villain]
Dewdrop [2]
Balthazar [Villain]
Zero [Villain]
Sacrin [Bone and fire]
Sun [Bone and Fire]
Jewel [ Segmented Secrets]
Aqua [Segmented Secrets]
Larz [Segmented Secrets]
Dirt [Segmented Secrets]
Ici [Segmented Secrets]
Radio Devil [Segmented Secrets]
Caution [Segmented Secrets]
Goldie [Segmented Secrets]
Captcha [Segmented Secrets]
Wizard [Segmented Secrets]
Glitch [Segmented Secrets]
Tri [Segmented Secrets]
Quad [Segmented Secrets]
Guava [Segmented Secrets]
Pocket [Segmented Secrets]
Trevor [Segmented Secrets]
Gref [Segmented Secrets]
Mountain [Segmented Secrets]
Array [Segmented Secrets]
Atris [Comp]
Dandy the Dandylion
Cat-fly
Melody
Big Brown
Denny [Mechancical overload]
May [The Empire]
Jack [The Empire]
Kate [The Empire]
Mary [The Empire]
Fabian [The Empire]
Anson [The Empire]
Irene [The Empire]
Vira [Supernaturals]
Malice [Crow's Call]
Maribell [Crow's Call]
Tree boy [DND?]
Xylon [Null Void]
Wish granter
Flex black
Echo [Copy Cat]
Death (god) [Death, My Prisoner]
Pandora [Death, My Prisoner]
Agony (god) [Death, My Prisoner]
Destruction (god) [Death, My Prisoner]
Madness [Death, My Prisoner]
Raily [Meet]
Deric [Meet]
Clorox [DND?]
ACT Friday [Subterrainer]
Dante [A Little Insanity]
Eva [A Little Insanity]
Green book
Blue Moon [Segmented Secrets]
Marcus [Neigbhors]
Alex [Neigbhors]
Alain [Neigbhors]
Monique [You lived to see another day/ DND?]
Ithzani
Argon [Dictate]
Elsy [Dictate]
Sprite
Felix
Stunt Double [Neighbors]
Angel [Starlight Guilt]
Magic Man
Dead Beat
Kashy [Fire and Bone]
Jax [Unknown]
Willow [Deathless]
Maddy [Deathless]
Gil [Deathless]
Jazz [DND?]
Ginger [Reverse]
Lupe [Reverse]
Naga [Reverse]
Obsolete/done
Jerry [THEM]
Docura [THEM]
Yellow Book
Lucifer [Supernaturals]
Satan [Supernaturals]
Pablo [Neigbhors]
Cartel [Neigbhors]
Macaroni [Neigbhors]
Ink [Subterrainers]
Quill [Subterrainers]
Oldmanster [Subterrainers]
Gaea [Supernaturals]
Small purple
Dick [Null Void]
Spirit & Ghoul
Samuel [3]
Mathew [3]
Connor [Restart]
Benji [Restart]
Hallner & Igna
Vivian [Supernaturals]
Mescaline [Mira]
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quinttyz · 2 years
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Edér tries giving Aloth some advice
had a fever dream and woke up thinking about team gilded vale
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arclundarchivist · 2 years
Text
Spoilers for C3E23
Turn ye, back who hath not observed!
Empty, Loved.
You'd felt safe in her arms from the moment you'd met her.
Cold yet full of boundless warmth.
Sharp in Features, Soft in Temper.
And in all the noise, she had been Quiet.
"Hello?" you'd offered, parting from the rabid crowd.
Freak.
Ghoul
Specter
She'd looked up, bright eyes behind a veil of black hair.
"Hello." her voice a whisper, no dozens of whispers, shadowed tones, and dripping words.
But she was quiet.
The bond had formed fast, forged in shared interest, crafted in isolation.
You'd spoken of a Storm, raging and red, screaming down upon you.
She's discussed a Specter, envious and emerald, slithering up from within her.
You both needed knowledge.
You'd gone it alone.
But you could slip into her presence.
The calm, quiet, cold.
Some would say like a grave.
But in truth, it's more like a winter night.
Stark, but beautiful all the same.
You wandered through the Hellcatch and throughout the Storm raged, but now you could awaken to her comforting embrace.
Through her, you found eight tolling bells.
One chiming in the wind, of distant grief and current wonder.
The other fire-charred, her song frenzied, frantic, and fun.
One of blue, tinkling a tune of thunder and vanishing across the skies.
Their tones intertwined, one of brass and one of stone, but out of sync, a chipper chirp vs. a brawler's bellow.
And then the one past their prime, replaced by one scarred and pitted, but chiming with a fervor so loud it made her head spin.
All that time, your first had been by your side, picking you up, shouting out her own defiant haunting tune, and you'd felt more secure than ever before.
Then the stone, that damned Little Rock, a stolen gift from a Smiling Nightmare. You should have known better than to trust nightmares.
But it was…
Safety.
Security.
Solace.
Where her cool clutch of comfort could not creep in.
You remember her touch not three days prior, softly caressing your shoulders as you raced into the endless sky. Your bond had been forged in the Hellcatch. Together you'd rescued Orym from being lost in the sky.
And now…
The stone shatters, and the bond gives with it.
"I couldn't get control! I didn't have control," she begs.
The Storm rages, and your safety net is gone.
Confusion.
Fear.
Anger.
All had burned within that crowd that day.
And now…to your own grief and surprise…she isn't quiet anymore.
The words slip past your lips before you can stop them, and the implications can't be taken back.
But what she's done can't be taken back.
"You lied," you state, feeling all the fear and grief hitch in your throat.
"No, no, no, no." she stutters in swift tempo, reaching out fearfully, for she can feel the bond slipping too.
But…the quiet is gone.
And so you have to retreat into your own once more.
You hear her scream, and it joins the tempest in your head.
Things had gotten so…comfortable.
Had you really thought it'd last?
Yes.
The Tempest does not calm, the quiet does not return, but she is still there.
And you are glad for that.
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rphelperblog · 3 years
Text
Crave Quote Rp Meme
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“He turns me inside out with a look, destroys me with a kiss.”
“I can see something in his eyes. Something powerful and terrible and all-consuming.”
“Everyone answers to me…eventually.”
“There’s not much to be afraid of when you’ve already lost everything that matters.”
“Sometimes life hands you more than a new hand of cards to play—it hands you a whole new deck, maybe even a whole new game.”
“Deep down, I am not different from you. I dreamed you, I wished for your existence.”
“It tugs at something deep inside me, makes me wonder, when I never wonder. Makes me want, when I never want.”
“There are a thousand ways to get somewhere, but not all ways are the correct one.”
“If You Can’t  Live Without Me,  Why Aren’t You  Dead Yet?”
“I want him to look at me like it physically hurts him not to be touching me.”
“It’s written all over his face—he would disintegrate anyone—everyone—if it means saving me. He would literally set fire to the world.”
“Actions have consequences. Mistakes get made. Hearts get broken.”
“If You’re Not Living on the Edge, You’re Taking Up Too Much Space”
“I said it would be better if we weren’t friends, not that I didn’t want to be.”
“We needed each other. We were both in pain, and we filled an emptiness we didn’t know how to fill on our own.”
“Have you ever wanted something so much that you were afraid to take it?Like it’s right there, waiting for you to just reach out and grab it, but you’re so terrified of what will happen when you lose it that you never make the reach?”
“Landing Is Just Throwing  Yourself at the Ground and  Hoping You Don’t Miss
“Indescribable. Unfathomable. Delicious.”
“This girl looks mischievous, like she knows she’s up way past her bedtime, but she just can’t put the story down.”
“Not when the last time he was happy, he was plotting a hostile takeover of half the paranormal world.”
“You wound me. It was at least three-quarters.”
“… falling over the edge of the world together.”
“Always, baby. Whatever you need.”
“But now, as I stand here, surrounded by the people I love most in the world, I finally understand what it means to rule with compassion. With dignity. With love.”
“Talking to your best friend about the worst thing that ever happened to you in excruciating. Talking to a stranger who doesn’t have any kind of vested interest…sometimes it doesn’t hurt so much.”
“Some Days Life’s a Bowl of Cherries; Some Days It’s Just the Pits.”
“There’s not much to be afraid of when you’ve already lost everything that matters”
“I’ve read everything on my Kindle,”
“It is time to go home, my love.”
“You wear reckless like French women wear lipstick. Subtle some days, red hot on other, but always, always, always essential.”
“And the villain fades away into obscurity, never to be seen or heard from again…”
“A Tempest rising, without fail.”
“The vampire hat is a really nice touch.”
“I’ve got better things to do than waste my time on a guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to everyone.”
“We’re all breakable, my boy. Part of being alive.”
“He’s got the manners of a rabid polar bear”
“Words absolutely no normal person has ever wanted to hear,”
“I thought a stake through the heart is what killed vampires, not—”
“I Like Standing on  My Own Two Feet, but  Getting Swept Off Them Feels  Surprisingly Good, Too”
“You’re more than you think you are,”
“But being able to fool people into thinking you have character isn’t the same as actually having character.”
“When exactly did I become the heroine in some YA romance? The new girl swooning over the hottest, most unattainable boy in school? Gross. And so not happening.”
“I’m beginning to feel like I’ve fallen into Mean Girls, Alaska version or something.”
“There’s a part of me that can’t imagine what world he’s talking about, considering I’m currently living in the middle of a fantasy novel.”
“Biggest fear: Ending up alone because I’ll always love the wrong person. Is that too deep? How about “the ocean.” We have no idea what’s down there. I don’t trust that shit.”
“When I hit on you, it’ll be because you want me to. And we’ll both know exactly what’s going on when I do. “
“Books are fascinating and fun.”
“it would, which, in my mind, proves the theory that you hold on until the other person pulls away because you never know what they’re going through and if they need the comfort.”
“Nothing to do but admit that—obnoxious smirk or not—this boy is sexy af. A little wicked, a lot wild, and all dangerous.”
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Vader is Anakin, he’s one person
Vader is Anakin.
Vader is Anakin’s apathy in the wake of losing everything, and everyone he ever loved or cared about.
Vader is Anakin’s emptiness, when realizing he’s completely, and utterly alone.
Vader is the burden of the guilt Anakin carries on his shoulders; the bane of every life he has snuffed out, every man, every woman, every child whose blood stains his hands red.
Vader is Anakin’s explicit self loathing, his grand delusional self deprecation.
Vader is the suffocating feeling of having nothing left, nowhere to go, no one to turn to; nothing to live for.
Vader is what you get when you’re stripped of all love, all compassion, all happiness, and all hope - leaving behind an empty, aimlessly drifting shell.
Vader is the numbness of depression; so overpowering that you’d hurt yourself, hurt others, further your own downfall only to feel anything but pain and disarray.
Vader is the trauma, the torment, the anguish; the horror of existing in a waking nightmare of your own making.
Vader is Anakin without a safe haven, without reassurance, without boundaries, without restraint, without a hand to hold.
Vader is Anakin when left to his own vices, when unhinged, when enraged, when in despair; without a scrap of human compassion left.
Vader is Anakin; broken down into his most basic form, forced back into the mold of a slave, of a pet, of a prisoner - of an unthinking, unfeeling drone.
Vader is Anakin, unable to trap the people he loves in his own toxic, unapologetic, selfish and egocentric craving for praise and appreciation.
Vader is loneliness, is solitude, is desolation.
Vader is Anakin’s selfmade prison, a hell of his own making; a punishment for the sins he continues to commit.
Vader is Anakin’s inability to forgive himself for his own mistakes, for failing to keep his mother and his beloved Padmé alive.
Vader is Anakin’s indirect refusal to admit he’s at fault; his near rabid desire to point the finger at Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka, the Jedi Order - and blame them for his own crimes.
Vader is Anakin’s deepest, darkest desires - the lure of the Dark Side, the drug he can’t live without, the tempest that ate him alive and spit him back out more man than machine, crippled and warped.
Vader is delirium, is blood thirst, is vengeance.
Vader is retribution, is deceit, is a lie.
Vader is Anakin; conditioned both by Palpatine and his own hand into subservience, into willful blind loyalty.
Vader is losing the will to live, desperate to die but not brave enough to end it all by one’s own hand.
Vader is like walking in a haze, like a puppet played by his master, like a joke without a punchline.
Vader is Anakin’s reality, is Anakin’s present, is Anakin’s future; and Vader is the shroud that buries his past under heaps of misdeeds.
Vader is Anakin’s legacy, his cross to bear; the sole persona he knows to accept.
Vader is Anakin’s way to destroy every reminder of his own weakness, his own ambition, his own ignorance, his own faith in the wrong places.
Vader is rebirth, his death, is life; is an endless vicious cycle.
Vader is despicable, is deplorable; is the side of Anakin that can never seize to stoop to new moral low points, that has no regard for others, no regard for himself.
Vader is always on the go, always on a mission, restless; never allowing himself to dwell upon his own state of being.
Vader knows he cannot stay put, lest his demons rear their ugly heads, as they come to haunt him and remind him of memories he desperately wishes to purge and disperse.
Because he knows he’s not Vader.
There is no Vader, there has never been and never will be.
When he stops to think, when he falls headfirst into his own trap, into his own tangled web of lies - there is no Vader.
When he allows the memories to resurface; of Padmé, of Obi-Wan, of Ahsoka, of Shmi - there is no Vader.
He cannot deny what they meant to him, who they were and how they impacted his life; how they helped lead him down a path he cannot break from - there is no Vader.
There’s only him. His wife. His brother. His sister. His mother.
Only Anakin.
Anakin, who longs desperately for a past he himself lay in ruins.
Anakin, who tries so hard to draw a firm line between who he is, and who he was. What he was, and what he has become.
Anakin, who despite denying his own name, his own existence to absolve himself from his own guilt; will never forgive himself.
Anakin, who doesn’t even want to forgive himself.
Anakin, who opts to writhe in anguish for the rest of his life, who knows misery and pity is all he truly deserves.
Anakin, who sees the image of his own fear in the eyes of every victim, who knows none of them may ever fear him as he does himself.
Anakin; who is small, and broken, and lonely; ripped apart for all the world to see.
A goon, a monster; less than a man, less than human.
A failure, a disappointment, a liar, a murderer.
A brother, a son, a husband, a father.
Anakin, who hides behind a mask of indifference, of ruthlessness, of cruelty, of paper thin righteousness.
A lost, little boy.
A phantom, a ghost, a specter.
Vader is a man whose spirit died, whose spark diminished, whose good intentions were rendered useless.
Vader is what rose from the ashes of Anakin’s crushed hopes and dreams.
Vader is, when left to his own devices; unable to act, trapped in a body that’s more cybernetics than flesh.
Vader is nothing.
Vader is Anakin who’s lost his way, lost his soul.
Vader made a deal with the Devil, only for the Devil to spit in his face and drag him straight into purgatory.
There, he writhes; unable to eat, or breathe, or even speak for himself.
Anakin, who signed his own death penalty.
Anakin, who thinks of himself as a dead man walking.
Anakin, who knows that no matter how he tries to delude himself, he never can.
Anakin, who knows Vader is only an excuse; a scapegoat.
A joke, a pretense, a facade, an act.
Anakin, who couldn’t cry even if he wanted to - and he does.
Who wouldn’t die, even if he thought he deserved peace - and he doesn’t.
Who wants to be right where he is, at his master’s beck and call - and he endures.
Anakin, trapped under his own thumb.
Anakin, who can never repent or be redeemed.
Anakin; condemned, and convicted.
Vader is Anakin, and Anakin is Vader.
One and the same.
Indistinguishable, inseparable, intertwined.
Two names, one person.
Two aliases, one man.
Anakin, who would lose his last scrap of sanity were he to admit it aloud.
Anakin, who can never look himself in the eye for fear of what he may see.
He’s the monster, he’s the villain, he’s to blame.
Not Vader.
Only him.
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Bringing back one of my most popular posts from the original account, figured it would be appreciated.
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xuxunette · 4 years
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My own translation of MDZS, chapter I.
My own translation of MDZS, chapter I.
Done for fun and for free.
Rebirth - Part I
“Wei Wuxian is dead! Everybody celebrate!” Not two days after the frightful assault on Shambled-Tombs Mound1, the news flew to every corner of the Daoist world as if it had sprouted wings — spreading with more speed than the erstwhile flames of war. Suddenly, whether famous masters from prestigious schools or wandering practitioners from mountain tops, everyone was discussing the punitive expedition led by the allied Four Great Clans, who had charged into the fray ahead of a hundred smaller sects.   “Great, great news! Everybody celebrate indeed! But who could have slain the Master of Monsters Mountain2?” “Who else could have done it? His sworn brother, the young chief Jiang Cheng, of course! He led into battle his own clan from Misty River, alongside the Jin Clan from Orchid Hill,  the Lan Clan from the Maiden Forest, and the Nie Clan from Honest Creek3. He upheld justice over family ties by destroying the ‘Shambled-Tombs Mound’ where Wei Wuxian had dug his lair.” “I’ll say a fair word: good riddance!” Someone immediately cheered on loudly, “You're right, good riddance! If the Jiang Clan hadn’t picked him up off the streets and raised him, that rascal Wei Wuxian would have remained a common vermin from the slums all his life... let alone become anything else! The former Jiang patriarch raised him as his own son, but him? He openly rebelled and made enemies out of all the other sects. Not only bringing dishonour to the Jiang Clan, but also causing them to be nearly wiped out. That’s the definition of being an ungrateful cur; he bit the hand that fed him!” “I can’t believe Jiang Cheng tolerated that punk’s arrogance for so long. Were it me, back when he defected, I wouldn't have let him off the hook with only a stab wound. I’d have purged his whole sect straight away, and he wouldn’t have committed all those atrocities afterwards. With scum like that, there is no ‘consideration for a childhood friend’ and ‘regard for a co-disciple’ to be had.” “But that’s not what I heard, is it? Hasn’t Wei Ying4 gotten his comeuppance from his devious sorcery backfiring on him? Wasn’t he torn apart and gnawed to pieces by the demonic generals under his command? I heard he’s been mawed alive and turned into fine bone powder.”   “Hahaha… That’s karmic retribution for you. I wanted to say it all along, those demonic servants he kept? They were just like badly-leashed, rabid dogs, waiting to bite. That they ate him in the end only serves him right!” “Be it as it may, if Jiang Cheng hadn’t carefully planned the assault around the Master of Monsters Mountain’s weaknesses, the expedition may not have succeeded at all. Don’t forget about the artefact Wei Wuxian possessed, and the time he decimated an entire army of three thousand skilled practitioners in a single night.” “Wasn’t it five thousand?” “Three thousand or five thousand, it's all the same. Though, I bet it was five thousand.”  “...The rampage of a true madman!” “At least he destroyed the Yin Tiger-Tally5 before his death. That’d count as paying some amends. If he’d left the cursed object in this world to inflict further suffering on humankind, his sins would have been even greater.”The crowd fell silent as the three words “Yin Tiger-Tally”  were pronounced, as if everybody had turned to contemplation. Eventually, someone sighed.“Alas... To think that, back in the days, Wei Wuxian was an exalted practitioner: the illustrious scion of an influential clan. He wasn’t without merits either. He made a name for himself at a young age, and lived in boundless fame… How he ended up where he has, I wonder…”  At the changed topic, the chitter-chatter of commentaries ignited anew. “It goes on to prove that orthodoxy is the only way to practice the Discipline. Deviance and heresy may yield flitting glory to gloat about at first, but look at what happened to him in the end.”The crowd cried out at once, “Death with no whole corpse left behind5!” “The path he chose in his practice wasn’t the only cause of his downfall, though. Ultimately, it was Wei Wuxian’s
despicable character that did him in — angering the heavens and vexing men. As the saying goes, good and evil each reaps their rewards, and the heavens see to it that what goes around always comes around...”Thus, judgment was passed upon Wei Wuxian’s cold remains. The content of the debate never varied much, and a consensus was soon reached. The few, faint dissenting voices that rose on occasions were swiftly quelled. However, the shadow of a worry still lingered in people’s hearts. Although the Master of Monster Mountain’s carnal envelope was said to have perished at Shambled-Tombs Mound, no one was able to summon his injured soul to dispose of it.  Perhaps the demons had devoured it at the same time they did his body... or perhaps had it escaped. If it was the first, then all was well. But the latter was also far from impossible: the Master of Monsters Mountains had been so powerful, he could upturn the skies and trample the earth, move mountains and change sea’s tides — or so it was told — and resisting the summon would be for him no feat at all.   Hence, should the day come that Wei Wuxian managed to restore his soul and snatch a body to reincarnate into with his powers still intact, all of the Daoist realm, or even all of humanity, would inevitably face his dreadful retaliation. His wrath would then only be augmented many times over, bringing about the reign of darkness without the bright of dawn, gales of pestilence and tempests of blood. Consequently, one hundred and twenty beastly-stone guardians were erected on the peak of Shambled-Tombs Mound whilst the largest clans carried frequent soul-summoning ceremonies. Incidences of demonic possession were strictly investigated, information about abnormal occurrences was carefully collected; all practitioners remained in a state of highest alert. The first year went by, and all stayed calm. The second year went by, and all stayed calm. The third year went by, and all stayed calm.… The thirteenth year went by, all still stayed calm, and people started to relax at last.  Maybe Wei Wuxian hadn’t been so powerful after all. Maybe his soul had perished as well. And even if he once could, with a wave of his hand, overturn the skies and command the fall of rain, he had been the one to be toppled over in the end.   Besides, nobody could be dreaded above the gods forever. Legends, after all, were only legends.
Notes:1. 乱葬岗 (Luanzang gang) lit.: ‘disorderly burial mountain ridge’. 2. 夷陵老祖 (Yiling Laozu) is Wei Wuxian’s honorary title/nickname. In this case it is an informal one. Yiling lit.: ‘barbarians’ mountain’. Laozu lit.: ‘venerated ancestor’. 3. Jiang from Yunmeng, Jin from Lanling, Lan from Gusu, Nie from Qinghe. These clan names hint at the four cardinal directions, as well as four different settings. Note that xianxia typically take place in China’s southern regions, following the tradition of Water Margins, and as represented in The Untamed web-series. I chose to translate the region names to convey some of the flavor that transpires from the Chinese text. See appendix on names from the story for further details. 4. Wei Wuxian’s birth name. At this point all three names of our protagonist have been cited: his birth name — given at birth (Wei Ying), his courtesy name — given upon adulthood (Wei Wuxian), and his honorary title/nickname — given for achievements (Master of Monsters Mountain). 5. Yin refers to Yin-Yang, the dual principles central to Daoist beliefs. Yin being the negative/feminine/lunar/shadowy/deadened side, to Yang or positive/masculine/solar/light/alive side. I've seen it translated into ‘stygian’, on youtube, which carries the notion of ‘hellish’ — although this translation mixes in a western concept (the Styx River from the ancient Greeks) it’s not an error insofar as Daoists consider the underworld ‘yin’ in nature. A Tiger-Tally is a historical artefact used by generals to confirm the deployment of troops. 5. In Chinese beliefs, the body of the deceased not being conserved integrally is considered a desecration of the worst sort. This is why Meng Yao's actions later on are considered so cruel.
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andmynameisadora · 4 years
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The sky is black, and red, and orange. The sun is gone. It has been gone, but there is a new color in the din. 
No... more colors. Hundreds of them, dancing off the greasy clouds, the black snow, the bloodied ground and dying life. For a moment, those still watching might think that the Sun has returned, for the golden and rainbow light in the sky could be nothing else... 
It comes from the heavens, caught in the corner of someone’s feed. Tearing through the bleakness like a blade, there’s a shining figure on a glorious steed. Not the sun, but close enough. 
Who comes is She-Ra, light and warmth and life incarnate. On Etheria she is Star Bringer, Breaker of Her Own Chains, slayer of the Eternal One who has endured for millennia, and Swift Wind, slicing through greasy tempests as effortlessly as could be. They are the antithesis of this darkness. 
She is Power incarnate, her cry louder than the death and the despair. There’s a blurry image of their descending shapes, magic arcing strength stirring... 
The nightmares couldn’t ignore She-Ra’s light. They fled before her, before. They surround emergency vehicles, biting at heels like so many rabid predators to fleeing elk. They paused in their gnawing and gnashing to look up, up at this descending comet of light and color and power. 
Her eyes glow, her blade cuts an arch in the air, and the resulting blast of magic tears beasts in two. Rats disintegrate, nightmares are sliced and wizened. 
Those who can watch from in the vehicles get to see what a horn like Swifty’s can really be used for. Whatever She-Ra’s sword misses, he spears, using momentum and wings to carry them harder, faster. 
Claws and teeth try to tear, dripping malice threatens to stick to them both, but for the moment they are no match for She-Ra’s light. 
The First Ones were wrong. She is not merely Power. She is life itself, and she will preserve it. No matter the cost. 
Freed rom their assailants, some of the emergency vehicles chug along where the snow has been cleared, for She-Ra and Swift Wind to double back and continue to protect.
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znachorkaa · 4 years
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‿-。 @rekakrola​ sent: ❛ i was wrong about you. you’re a blind, rabid dog biting anything that moves. ❜ | accepting! 
The air electrifies suddenly. 
It is not the first time Keira hears hurtful words about herself, her work, anything in general. This time, however, after all that discussion between the three of the sorcerers in the Foltest’s court, with Foltest himself and his very loyal dog, the words strike in a way that the thin patience Keira is wearing breaks apart and BLEEDS. 
She doesn't care about what may happen. She doesn't care that Roche is stronger than her and taller. She doesn’t stop, crossing the distance they are divided by, looking straight into Vernon’s brown eyes - her own yellow ones shining with something cruel and IMMINENT; tempest without the clouds. 
The slap is heard in the whole corridor when a small hand decorated with two rings - encrusted with silver and embedded with jasper and carnelian - hits Vernon’s cheek with all the force the sorceress can muster. It doesn’t matter that Keira feels her hand TINGLING and heating up after that. 
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❝ You can talk like that to your men, Commander. ❞ She spits, eyebrows furrowed, her hand up and gleaming with magic. ❝ I am not some shoddy maid of honor you may insult as you please, because she won’t stand up for herself. Next time, when you OPEN your mouth in purpose to make a remark about me, have in mind that I CAN, AND I WILL, wipe you off from earth’s surface. ❞  
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ofillyria · 4 years
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I have been toying around with A LOT of WIP ideas recently and I’m not really sure where I want to focus my energy or which ones I want to add to my WIP list or make intros for. So I figured I’d make a masterlist of all of my ideas that I have a rough plot and character list for so y’all can peruse! If there’s one that jumps our at you, a few you like, or any that you have questions on please please flood my inbox! There’s no better way to get me jazzed about a WIP than to send me asks! I’m putting them under the cut since there’s so many!
NIGHT TWELVE: Vi crashes into enemy territory and is taken in by the army. She's given an assignment: win the heart of the wealthiest woman on the planet to procure war funding. But she's already fallen in love with her superior officer.
DAVID’S PEAK: In the small, Oregon town of David’s Peak people are being mysteriously abducted, and blame is placed on possessed park ranger Diane Atwood. She has a choice: prove herself innocent by finding the real culprit, or say goodbye to the friendly voice in her head.
YOUNG DEMONS: After failing her first spell Cecily Young swore off magic. Her power is building, brewing. The repressed magic is manifesting as a hurricane set to destroy Louisiana in a month's time. She must find a way to expel the magic in time, without tearing herself apart in the process.
THE GODLING TRILOGY: Lea is the firstborn child of Morpheus, making her the most powerful godling in a millennium. Which means she’s the perfect scapegoat for Zeus to send to do his dirty work. Including murdering the ancient being known as Nyx, who’s determined to plunge the modern world into eternal night.
BERSERKERS: Gal pals turned fearsome warriors. When the clique dons their fur coats they gain the strength of the animals they wear. It’s time for revenge on selfish exs, bigoted teachers, and abusive parents,. That is, if the consequences don’t catch up to them first.
THE BLITZKRIEG BREAKER: When Teddy’s clock repair shop becomes both the epicenter of a magical war and the London blitz, he is tasked with keeping a strange device out of the wrong hands. In a world filled with demon dogs, falling bombs, and a mysterious shapeshifting witch it’s hard to know which threat to focus on.
HELL’S EMPTY: Sometimes, the dead get restless. There are a few who manage to slip through the cracks and back into the world of the living. On autopilot, the soul takes the first available body and become a zombie. Over time the body, incompatible with its new soul, will begin to decay. Desperate to live, but falling apart, these creatures seek new fresh bodies to enter, even it means killing to get them. Luckily, hell, like any good business, has a lost prevention specialist. And she’s ready to go hunting.
WASTELANDERS: In a post apocalyptic wasteland, a team of two girls band together to fight to survive. When crossing the desert from ration station to ration station they encounter a man on the side of the road, he claims that his car was stolen with his young daughter inside. The two girls venture to find the lost girl in a no holds barred rescue mission through deadly dive bars, life or death road races, and russian roulette tournaments.
TRAGEDY ANNE: Anne,  a bandit known for terrorizing the rich folks of Round Rock, caught wind of the local mine owner’s plan to blow out the dam. Even if it means washing out Round Rock in the process. Anne wants to save her hometown but no one will listen to a lying, cheating thief.
SOUL: SOLD: Six years ago Jac sold her soul to a demon so that she could say goodbye to her mother. But now her contract is up and she only has a week before she becomes a demon herself. The plan: find the family heirloom, use it to barter with the crossroads demon, and avoid damnation at all costs.
AMELIA BRIGHT PETSITTER TO THE ABSURDLY RICH: Amy loves her job: nice houses, free food, and cute puppies. But when she’s accused of stealing jewelry from a rich client everything falls apart and her reputation is destroyed. She has to prove her innocence. Hopefully, before the super hot CEO she’s dogsitting for returns from a business trip.
THE TEMPEST PROTOCOL: Mira’s mission is to study the defunct pleasure planet which orbits a black hole. But the mission is overturned when the owner of the planet returns and kidnaps Mira’s team. Mira has to rescue her crew before they are all swallowed by the looming void or murdered by the psychopathic resort owner.
THE ELECTRIC PIGHT - Winona is an archaeologist that studies the fallen society of the 21st century. When her brother returns home severely injured, she’s determined to use old world medicine to save his life even if she has to travel for days to find it. But the way to the city of old is guarded by militiamen, cannibals, and rabid dogs. Winona’s attempt to save her brother and prove her theories right might kill her first.
WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD - Bee has been demon of the month over nineteen thousand times. She’s assigned a meager corruption mission and saddled with a newbie demon. Now, she’s determined to prove to Satan that she doesn’t need a partner. She has to find a way to kill her ‘husband’ without it looking suspicious. All while corrupting the perfect 1950s suburbia around her.
HELL FIRED - When one of the groundskeepers for the underworld goes on maternity leave her coworker has to find a suitable replacement. So they set up a reality show competition and the last person standing wins the role of right hand man to Hades’ right hand man. Which is sort of an honor.  
ARTEMIS AND APOLLO - Agent’s Artemis and Apollo have been working together for nearly twelve years. He’s the impulsive rogue and she’s the one who actually gets the job done. But now that she’s getting married he’s worried the agency will realize his incompetence. Instead of fighting it, he’s determined to make their final mission together the wildest ride possible.
FUN FUN AT THE BOARDWALK - Daniel works at the Santa Cruz boardwalk and knows for a fact it’s haunted. The giant stuffed animals have started to roam at night and recently, one tried to kill him. He has to round up a team to help him fight back but first, he has to make people believe him.
VIENNA - After being exposed to radiation from the sun an astronaut returns to earth to find that she is imbued with starlight. She’s recruited into an organization of mutants and tasked with rounding up others like her. But the more she uses her powers to render outside threats inert the more she risks burning out and turning herself into a black hole.
10 PERFECT DATES - Katherine Day’s website claims she can set up the most romantic date possible just for a small fee of $200. Rory, an investigative journalist, is determined to prove this offer a scam. So they buy 10 and ask Katherine to be the one to join them on these so-called ‘perfect’ dates. Rory thought this would be a disaster worth writing about, but the only problem is Katherine herself seems like the perfect person for Rory.
SOUL SEARCHING - A witch and her disembodied wife search for a body that can house the wife’s soul. The witch becomes a spiritual guide to people in comas, entering their minds and helping them through to the other side to open a space for the wife to have a body again.
CRITICALLY MISSED. After the death of David’s father he invites all of his childhood friends back to his childhood home for a reunion game of dungeons and dragons. When they start to fight they are interrupted as they are pulled into the game. The old friends are forced to fight off giant spiders, ogres, and long buried resentment. If they die in the game do they die in real life? And is an epic takedown worth risking your brother’s neck?
These ones don’t have titles yet so I’m just gonna give some comps so you get the vibe:
WES ANDERSON x THE HALF OF IT - Mindy’s life is going exactly how she wants. She has perfected her waffle recipe, a successful b&b, and no friends. But when her mom decides to get remarried Mindy is faced with the reality that the world goes on without her even when she constructs an eden for herself. So she enlists the help of a childhood friend to teach her how to deal with change.
STRANGER THINGS x PARANORMAN - Ryann drowned, and was resuscitated minutes after being declared dead. Now the kid sees ghosts: unmoving, unblinking figures staring at a singular location.  Ryann must discover why the spirits are back and what it is they want that’s in the Courthouse.
TOMB RAIDER x UNCHARTED - The Bloodright Chalice is the last unrecovered piece of known treasure, and Kel is determined to find it. With the help of a tagalong history nerd, she must fight off mercenaries, navigate perilous terrain, and withstand the draw of a magical artifact.
KICKASS x DAREDEVIL - Kimberly Price is trying to be the hero her powers deserve, but her moral ambiguity keeps leading her off track. Upon discovering an underground crime ring, Kim discovers her big break and that the mob boss, a mutant like her, can break any bone in her body with his mind.
INCEPTION x ARRIVAL - Dr. Parson has been having dreams recently of waking up next to a woman who he doesn’t know and she claims to be his wife. His new research partner on the particle accelerator is revealed to be the very same woman he’s been dreaming of since the beginning of the project.  He knows more about her than he should and it feels like an abuse of power, but he cannot help but fall in love, or rather stay in love. But how can he be honest when it would paint him as insane and ruin both his relationship with her and his plans for the project?
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