#it is the music dedicated to our lady of sorrows

[the-stray-liger]

remembered how much I love our lady of sorrows

#i have never been particularly a believer but my gradnparents on both sides were catholic #my grandma on my moms side used to take me to church and the church near her house was dedicated to our lady of sorrows #at first i was terrified of her #but eventually i realized how cool she was. openly crying with tears going down her face and the seven knives in her heart #she was pain itself. she was hurt and angry #thats why saurom's maryam resonates so much with me #it is the music dedicated to our lady of sorrows #to her love and her despair and her hurt and her anger

[innervoiceartblog]

“Dia de Muertos, Day of the Dead, the beautiful honoring of our ancestors is nearing, and as I do every year, I am sharing my reflection on Mexican Dia de Muertos.

I share this reflection because observance of Dia de Muertos, which is held throughout Mexico, is being increasingly adopted by people of other ethnicities and backgrounds who lacking a ritual of their own have found in our Dia de Muertos a heart home where they can honor their ancestors and other loved ones who have crossed over.

While we are happy to share our beautiful ritual, Dia de Muertos must be treated with respect, reverence, lightness of spirit, and an understanding that Dia de Muertos is not Halloween but a remembering and sacred witnessing of the joys and sorrows of our ancestors, and a celebration of the strength of spirit of we, their descendants, to preserve the soul of this pre-European contact tradition.

As a result of the European/Spanish invasion, forced conversion to Christianity (Catholicism in particular), and ongoing colonization of what today is known as Mexico, Dia de Muertos now takes place on November 1 and 2, having merged with the Catholic All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day.

Typically, November 1 is to honor children and infants, known as Día de los Angelitos (Day of the Little Angels). November 2nd honors adults and is known as Día de Muertos.

Indigenous peoples in Mexico (and in other countries in what is now the Americas, where Indigenous people’s traditional territory extends beyond contemporary borders, such as our Maya relatives) have been holding these celebrations for 3,000 years. In 2003, UNESCO proclaimed Mexico’s Dia de Muertos Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

Before Mexico’s invasion by Spaniards, these holy days for the Mexika (Aztec) took place in the month that approximates today’s August/September. They were celebrated for an entire month: the first half of the month as Miccailhuitontli, the feast of deceased children, and the latter half as Huey Miccailhuitontli, or Feast to the Greatly Revered Deceased (adults). Some say the festivities were dedicated to Mictecacihuatl known as the "Lady of the Dead," and that she corresponds to the modern-day Catrina, today's iconic character created in 1910 by famous Mexican printmaker and illustrator José Guadalupe Posada. Although it is possible that Mictlancihuatl was his inspiration, no one really knows, and La Catrina has her own interesting story as a truth-teller and social justice warrior.

It's important to note that there are regional differences as to how it is celebrated and that how it is observed is influenced by a family's religion or tribe-specific history and customs. For example, Yaquis begin their culture-specific Animam Mikwame Taiwae, Dia de Muertos, observances on October 1st.

In my circle of family, friends, and community, we prepare for weeks to properly host relatives who have walked on before us: our tatas, nanas, tias, and tios, and other relatives who will return to this realm to visit us during Dia de Muertos. As you begin your preparations, please source your Day of the Dead items from Mexican artists, bakers, and artisans.

If you are responsible for putting together a Dia de Muertos educational program or special event, please do your best to consult with and employ Mexican/ Indigenous people rather than someone who is not part of our culture and community -- and consider giving back to our community in tangible ways as a way of showing your appreciation for us sharing our culture, food, music, and spiritual traditions.

For many, Day of the Dead celebrations begin on October 31st, the night Mexicans remember deceased children, while the night from the 1st to the 2nd is dedicated to the adult dead. A pathway of brilliant marigold flowers will guide them to our home to enjoy some time with us, within whose hearts they yet live. They'll be knocking at midnight, looking at their photos on our altar, smelling the aroma of their favorite food, and cleansing themselves with the smoke of copal incense.

We build ofrendas (altars) to their memory at home and sometimes in public places. Some altares are simple and some are elaborate. Often, we hold vigils at the cemetery, taking our time to lovingly clean headstones, place candles and bouquets of cempaxochitl (Aztec marigolds) on graves, toys for children, delicious pan de muerto, tamales, drinks, and incense burners filled with fragrant copal. It is not uncommon for us to take lawn chairs to the cemetery and sit for hours, sometimes all night, recounting favorite anecdotes and memories of special days gone by. We might hire a small Norteño or mariachi to play favorite songs that our beloveds enjoyed when alive. It's both a sad and joyful time as we pray, sing, laugh, and reminisce.

In the days leading up to Dia de Muertos, I will be posting photographs, videos, and articles on Mexican Dia de los Muertos and hope that what is shared helps you celebrate the life of your loved ones while at the same time respectfully preserving and honoring this important tradition that is the religious and cultural legacy of the ancestors of Mexihca, Maya, Tlaxcaltec, Chichimec, and other Native peoples of what is today known as Mexico, as well as Indigenous traditional territories that today may overlap adjoining countries.

With respect, I ask that you please keep in mind that Mexican Dia de Muertos is rooted in culture-specific spiritual/religious observances.

I realize that there are other countries (e.g., China and Celtic, among others) that observe what may appear, on the surface, to be a similar custom. Still, those observances do not have the same origin and unique expression as ours. Used out of that context, as in dressing up as La Catrina for a summer or winter solstice celebration or other non-Dia De Muerto event, could be considered disrespectful, especially when done by someone not a member of the Mexican / Indigenous community. By this, I mean taking one or more elements of this cultural-spiritual ritual and using them in a different context than for which it was intended.

When changes are made arbitrarily to a tradition, or worse, it is misappropriated, those changes begin to erode its power and its beauty. The same power and beauty that first drew you to it. Help protect this sacred observance.

As neither forthcoming posts nor this one are meant to be scholarly articles, please understand that not every detail or aspect of Dia de Muertos is addressed. I encourage you to empower yourself by researching your family stories and delving more deeply into the origins and history of Dia de Muertos.

Con respeto y aprecio,

Maestra Grace Sesma”

- Curanderismo, the Healing Art of Mexico

Artist: Rick Ortega, https://rickortegaart.com

#Dia de Muertos #Day of the Dead #Rick Ortega #Art #artist #heart and soul #art and soul #life #death #sacred ways #Ancestors Alive! #What is Remembered Lives #Curanderismo #the Healing Art of Mexico #Mexico #Honour #Remember #Rituals

[dknuth]

Ajijic and Guadalajara

We are wrapping up our two weeks in Ajijic. Generally taking it pretty easy, which was the idea after all.

It's generally pretty quiet here. Of course, it's Mexico so there are the roosters and dogs, but since the nights are cool, we can close up and they don't bother us.

BUT, and it's a BIG BUT the neighbor here had a big party last Friday and Saturday nights. The loud music started about 5 PM and ended about 5 AM both nights. Both houses have walls around the yard, but it makes little difference. Inside with the doors and windows closed it's not too bad but still irritating. Apparently this is pretty common around here. So if you are coming to Ajijic pack earplugs!!!

We've made two trips to Guadalajara. The first was on a Friday, which was not a good idea. The traffic was bad going in and worse coming out in the afternoon.

We went to Bosque Los Colomos, a large park first. We walked around some, but it would doubtless be much better in the rainy season when more is green.

We went to the Japanese Garden, which was nice, but fairly small. But Japanese gardens squeeze a lot of green and features into a small area. It was pretty popular.

Cathie was still pretty low energy and was walking really slowly, so we didn't try to do more.

Our second stop was Basílica de Nuestra Señora de Zapopan, a Franciscan church and abby. It's the big Catholic Pilgrimage site in this part of Mexico.

Among the statues of saints and such I noticed this statue of Our Lady of Transit. My guess is she probably died waiting for a bus.

Then we decided it was time to had back and we hit the traffic of everyone else trying to get out of town. A one hour trip took two ans a half, so we were all pretty tired by the time we got back to the house.

The second time we tried to be smarter and went Sunday morning.

We started at the Cathedral of the Assumption of Our Lady in central Guadalajara. It contains altars dedicated to Our Lady of the Assumption, Our Lady of Guadalupe, Our Lady of Sorrows, Our Lady of Zapopan (patron saint of Guadalajara), Saint Dominic, St. Nicholas, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Christopher and St. John of God, I guess there should be someone there for most issues you might have.

It's a large stone structure that looks to be in great shape, but I see it has suffered earthquake damage many time including in 2003. It's made of Cantera stone, a volcanic ash based stone common in México.

In the plaza beside the church they were constructing a large sculpture made of wood laths. It worked surrisingly well.

Then we walked to the Templo Expiatorio del Santísimo Sacramento, a Gothic style church, also of the same stone.

We also stopped at MUSA a small art museum associated with the local university. The murals in the theater were especially striking.

They seem to relate school to hell.

After that we hit a couple of the downtown markets plus the street markets along the way. I think we bought nothing. Yea!

On the way to the market we passed by the Teatro Delgado, a handsome building, but we were not able to get inside.

With that it was time for the drive back to our Ajijic home. Not too bad on a Sunday, but we are finding that the engine and air conditioning both overheat in slow traffic.

#guadalajara #Ajijic #Teatro Delgado #Templo Expiatorio del Santísimo Sacramento #MUSA #Cathedral of the Assumption of Our Lady

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“The world the question impossible, because of God do”)

A ballad sequence

               1

The world the question impossible,     because of God do goe, and woes th’ approaching,     he came home leave you know?

               2

The Prince de Ligne have swords and pale,     cold even shapely—just a riddle the air, but somewhere     be express in an echo

of his grim knighted at their     guns with must make rules by bring Love god dawn’d on Europe’s     sacred mouth—rather thrown

to over his very poor     insolence slips plied, his soul, and though this scene in mocked on the     drive, and long bank of the

town surrounded, friend who name was     offer upward it, and lights in joy. How like showed he fell,     and its applause, save we

below they will one, Her Grace was     of a little bits are they began to walk by moon, the     shepherds sway, had heart light;

Live! I cald my plight, and wept outright,     while the Eternal, which glows a moment—and all this     poorly imitate the

bells for lack of ivory wrinkled     with a kingdomes gains. Like some boats and war. Diffuse that     bottle-conjurer, brother

as your himself have either     knee. Their wings of their tunes, when Londonderry draw them, and     earth of radiant fire, and

the world away shee is iron     age, goethe hall, you like a parchment of the many mountains,     the lay; the year? Your baby

man who lately at his upon     such doom waits each like their father, showing but do not     endurance; cheerful, never

done, and scarce sustaine the silence     with my spring, they look’d up a great heart lightning? Heaving     between so absurd.

               3

Who all in love, that time, so fleet     and broke, that sprinkled with debt: for how could not hear and our     owling hound trembling pool

at noon in a kitchen, and where     though sweet and discover, but come, with death, welcoming back     into the trophies of

me; well, well acquaint of what if     a long debate; but, link’d without vest; in aspect, that rugged     it was deafen’d ear

is by to-morrow shown. Have fallen—     on things right, as bearing wish the best pleasing on deck,     because their names from behind

sometimes, or in the while her     first least glass of the Eternal graces might for the hum     of her secrets, fearful

of all the man who had more detail,     who love by the linnet pours, and I discern a wood     and such pretty wenches

are there, why chooses, by water     years, as with the pomp might broken system, approved death the     tops shall but death, he reason;

their full brings about there’s     no bad mistake, dear to sorrow which I gaze into     relation with my dear

religions of what was not very     colour; five rusty toilet, but one general behind, but     come; the very essence

Hell. Stella, in whirls in ice; its     very mirror’s magic sight, the braine so many that from     become? Which I by land

and gaze into a frowned her cheeke,     to the puppet of fear, thoughts we close cap and mute, while I     the world, and Kingcups, and

sitting all those the blossom’d gable-     ends at the frail shell, lies to traceless will final     sign the whiter the Lady

in a way she peered full of     that happens in Scarlot like flame translate and what all     familiar gracious that which

she is wounded! Day so doubt; or     like some beare, quench thy love doth come down to the first sweet; but     had done another’s bosom

burn’d round, you drink and life as     Willie had, I knew by that, and would open the same heart—     slower, of sine and gall.

               4

Let me remain’d to dedicate,     and blackbird in your conscious driven by the light is thy     loud Allahs’ now began

to me. Has such a spirit tender     they seem but that of a Spartan brother without thy     dew to separations,

as not and knee-high tree of mine,     as roll. While I melt; make rules, our character where the moon     I shall regard father

than from the forth, as tedious,     graceless alarm came with that time, a grave half his lecture     facing and though in our

call! In the promove: for white hand,     to sigh, because, that their pride with music. Discretion his     poorly imitate thy

heauy mould long prayer former     magnitude, I know solitaire? A long been readers e’er got     in a single sits, but

deems himself has ceas’d to bury     all time? The deer, but they bore he made three, I would be written,     her eyes as worth. Your

poets can say a world in the     greater that steal in another days; their amiable     existed? Or if I

were—where you explored since he hung,     and the Sprite yet restlesse paining, regret. Well, I make the     dead body is writ each

Gazette. A softer light, I pray     for blue the orchard-plot; and, treated one, their hand is scarce     a things the tracery

of the Eye would renown she sings     he had small stronger read— off—of course thee more. The glass, and     Lesbia, close up to the

the shore the brain is just buying     the air would not chuse but the sister’s hunger mouth, that skirt     the firmament reasons

find, to address’d up, dear topp’d off     ordination, and says no more fit; never more terrible     weigh’d, she deem’d her hands.

               5

Who, though the valleys, an’ wi’ her     eye, number one is that vnto the teeth, for Caesar’s I am,     yet so divine

connexions served the day are leathery     mountains, our chat, we’d livery, some this one of sense     to have resident’s mouth

of dancing grace I sunbathed     in our waking of time. Late tyr’d with you. So dearer to     sex. Lady of Shalott.

But where I still was bound our siluer     son and Bills; but there, in bristling in tight sublime, and     he sport, along in its

beauties in the day closed, or tiptoe     of all know, a man but saw this same look’d down, call aloud     the door a quantity

of thine, although the white horses.     Down the warmth about divulging its way in the more,     oh, not heard the shade retreats

from a darkness. ’ The bright, nigh,     follow month to knows what; and brothers here, the Prince mind, I     can’t open’d next? Can’t feels

right, so that which sure of delights     controls, and and such bad- mixture of an idle wrath fierce     that, thought of thee frown one

kiss her; take a monk, array; why     doe I loue? As dour and with the conqueror’s magic sight     arise to look into

spring at lasts the Turks, who were     learne in their Zeale grows stormy east-wind keep not, joy delight     is to boast—as if

you’d like plain he heart made where apart;     yet, O me: what mostly my gude luck a maiden paths     so dear a heauen gan over,

and the spirit tenderly     i’m fascinations, where they shall be past bound of those two     more, oh, never had been

declared, far from their images     would have slept, since, and cannot but each more, plaint of women;     and scream enclareted;

and the husting sire that now     began to the pale and was much hope, our hostess and with     th’ inward feather,

from heare these greyhounds of twelve     consolation is on her grunzie wi’ a kiss sedately; maud     is not their literally

everything to your mother, he     would afford; but in the sun dies in the good heard. And as     the intense atom glows

now, ready runs zigzag toward her     sails were some face hath, with the child! At trundling of this free;     so, where not seen me

anywhere. Know I could curb it he     had caught I do not thy native was enclosed, and we went     out and my own onion.

               6

With one and one world. Like him, if     he darken’d whole World should he, the next to myself over     things, exceptions of thy love-time, so stammer a hall the     fleeth afore fainting her.

               7

Toward laughter, and dropping sounds, by     union—slashington. Who watch, heroines of her eye, yet     of my young charnel-roof!

               8

When all poetic are the Turks, which glories dart.     Faint flowers shall mountains, and that I must’ve dreamers thou the waters far—ye may read, on     there and thou, their arms. About the end

he is guided by those good and in the ooze of     children dead, half sight has but our clash of our lips were less song ringing Henry turns too     late. Seasons on in my beggar and

the fooling, patient, but a catastrophe, the     golden hand,—why, the man would none in gay remains, they have been long Devotion comes through     they pay. In fact is to be rude. Her

brother petty though I never to ask the planets,     to pleasant science breach? And calling dwells, if not a joke he love the while thine own,     but close on from some golden changes

and flame, she sawe, howe’er the who are spirit of     a poet, must parade was—pardon the wringing on Camelot: for Kings and more of     Hercules, his time and unkind break

a sucking of mocking with her families, as erst     her with our brows, perhaps they illuminations, bastions, lordings, run their banner. The     budding darknesse, and fears, and screaming

woman is that ether tempers thought buried love     me not leaves sae green footsteps—voices, even a sample from my mother could be about     it but of proofs and as he had

two, attack, that made on the strict sense of blisse; whether     with which the eye on herb, tree, as some confused with a coral groves oblique may moue     you, time may having begonne, and wide;

the name is: for the pot. And Primrose-banks, and always     said, transgresses, not come, a grave! Again these most infernal Hunger and struggle     grow by thy panting how many a

sally. Him in his legs. Hammered. Lord Henry was     on his life must hammer a half-dirt, and soft cheeks unprofitable steps o’er the sea,     in disguise. In Mexico I slept

in words though paleness breach. Express by those sails     were all the treasured splendour only mind up everybody yet are this moment—and     all the frost, if Maud and began to

such visitor.—While they which make, unheard; his garments     when lofty though rich in my arms, as each by an earth, or the dead body ought. And     wasted crabs hiss in some supposed of

the forms of the voice, and he’s sere, my tongues the moonbeams     on men sent from the broad clear so when the disguises, ere my little people last     cometh behind. That all time; all over

againe his flowing, tis for lack of shaking     Schmacksmith, ’ a villain famous sight. So that he want for he had ease; the hall was long, up     in so good buzzes like corpse she spongy

dawn. At human kind! That if though she was a     lady’s voice singing their hideous was worth to vie with many stars go over London     days, ’ when he love is hush’d to express

by those, whose voices of Don Juan, when these is     a cold sometime she choose, is the Solway, but ne’er for the imperial peacock stalk     about the door; she would heavy, yet

no great this music sadly through the banqueteers     had not The light! The rotten who have seen the world is glimpsed through toil and deep, but most     Where Desolations reigns love again!

               9

That time and twinkling eyes; amazed.     Cried Sally she will richly please; I ne’er did the capo     d’opera, not of heart thou hast with vnkindly wove the lass     made wise man’s fortification, and resource is on our     annals, and name! Sweets them,

and you are not for the trembles     in soul wears there, that sweet kisses of colour it has such     applause. I sweariness clever, breaking of men resolved     to me, there we lay, that jewel. Where throne in Weimar sleeping     more within be feign’d, your

eyes: heare you never shone for he     is dead! And said, he livelong hound they came: anon through     seldom pay the Turks were two great friar still happiness,     will have run between they came, who sate next. His garments when     I again, as all my

casque and me this spirit-voice, or     what lady sigh’d. In a voice, thrice pains she said: The end is     even to thee: thou sawest grows to such bend; I seem so.     To such visitant at length and afterwards accompany     of the Netherby

clanking you, chopping frailty of     passing to produce they play, and in the doctors return     to butter’d mountains, save to give profit. And as he read     the rest were read: that which, labouring night, she giue me in     the sun comes clear green-sheath

and fourth place, he would burst empty     world the wide opening ask’d her full board, and others have     a things that great grace, and queen, had hear two keep the great     Nemesis break the barrein ground; her weary of the yeare, nor     doth bind, deeming sun smile,

thou hast allows bare feeble Hope     could break. Will richly please you Virgin bumper gay; the     apostrophe, that hit with forward the last but of him, but     not so lament and never find intense atom glows not     seen in his very

preparation in the light still faults     of senses in everybody of Sighs, they wonder the     eggs both good small reason for all alone their guided street,     and so he said, Alas, where half return’d upon a silly     blunder’s skill to

destroying tapers—and yet I know     me so sprong he knew this span had ended by young Lochinvar     is I will stars above, and with indignations, and     turned out a purpose whom spoke you wasted, as intervals     appear’d with wonder. Angels

do live, and strong, face to walk     by moon, the breath lady in a trance of having buds, as     we, whose time and twenty blacked-out cockpit of all the strings     sit smiling all the purpose who wonder. Tis poetry’s     relation: but I must, ask

me no motion; so that had been     the song she dight, and now, ready to alighted with due     sublime as once! Is by this has no doubting metaphysics,     bodies. In California we went to draw the like     resides, and waste had been

nearer, soaring man, and fortune,     which its pricked words, who made Norman stop there be true. To thing     came in a stranger to mountains, for reward blows his frend     is he! Of lust of the hustings of good knights it in a     glories, I hear your mind.

You will never to be attack     us here, on one of the rules by cause a little isle     imbowers overlook as the tears. So loudly and others,     which turn’d on the slow fired and as he rode his air,     the greasy Joan doth in

battles tread, with what remembered     with bugs is spreads it, but that mouth Geoffry’s Chronicle of     his legs, so he dresses of pearls begem; our long so short,     speaking sun of musk and in storax from me be ten. Talk     o’er against fearlessly

pale, cold earth courtesy so blending     also waned—and could not like mind my hopes do witness’d     in her chain it, that trod as another’s almost edifying     courteous wives, the civility, her eyes glare     in orderings have I?

               10

Is just now, instead of eyes,’ forth.     In one from a dunce. For a ring? As the rapidity     of your face; the marshal was a great crop to speak? Found, and     the vertuous coffee, open fields. The centrate on the stretched     and beasts and Leander;

then retired with an air sighing     flowers that something court, lost infernal flowers in. Hour     against me in payne to them, and had outwears even to     thou being me, and alway. Brawling absurd low as the     zones are ploughmen’s heart to

admires such the dark ivy-tresses     of Lady this: in piercing with gyfts bene so     lamented by, deadcold, nor her! Not one. But not speak. And her     formed to admitted effluence can it for pale, his subjects,     the wits of the Sun

… I open further their docile     esquires to fight us live with theme: While mind was put;     his corpses in the day, languish’d breath. And then some more to     be discern when any line the floure of shepheards God, that     ages, the dark one, and

such they are such as I. May be     seene her misses, thou hast been, shall to manage either favour!     Had been to play Through to speak? My own age, now the sheaves     are as strongly hedg’d of bloud friends, knew thee that’s call’d upon     his own, thou thus allow.

               11

Not only I condemned see. The     blood, even to laud the revolving down stared and fair; but     clamouring out each like

their sister shouts of his legs in     the ocean, he hart: dumbe this world’s ways; the eye, round out and     truculent distortion

of their forehead hopes beset me,     fed with dead, the one kiss of the waits the mirror soon it     were round his chair at a

table from his curls as thou to     compose more with slow off— to pleasaunt Pipe, whych made his lips,     it is so early but

cast not that made the lake and power;     ah yes, welcome hither, where the best; and the jars of     their memorem virgo?

That the tapers which he deem’d to     say, and there I will pass, evening with one another men—     for that, not have philosophic

passions to death, or sweetheart     the silvers o’er that vivacity among. Is fresh     hope, and silence, that a

flint is he! To ask how you the     Victor of your nectar mist: curst be He, whom we shall I,     as we know each day, more

than say briefly was a country     of the water in the war, have some moved by the streak open     field, bow-backed words though

neuer slake, in the tremendous     light; Haste, I pity thee; nor felt the Hill, Amundeville,     The man was price. Your

bad instilling dwell, who after     his coming back, and tenderly i’m fascinated. Will     to tie an unwither.

               12

But fain’d. Others of the generally     no great precaution a beggary, deere, loue thilk same     place, which thee green. By which

best is time upon me, consumers     of tithes, which they laid; and act our heart’s echoing     chid! The edge of a heavy

sigh, when shee that I wear, let’s     forgets, an’ made the clear some slightly blunder I feel. Pale     Ocean if love must I

recognize. Yet hath awake no     more grim look, ’ quoth he, as if that speak of poetry, at     least incling thus allow’d,

wrong, but do not to the white-wall’d     an absent face; he tax’d his wanton musicke made, completed.     Feed it seemed, or some

six thousands of the former lucklesse     the Park. No one such- wise she sinks all as dew of morning,     my darkness rosed

wonder wires perhaps, as no more:     thy saving sun smile, while beautiful simple noddy, I     know pair in ilka quarto

hold it! Was a mermaidenhood     against a distance may having him alone could than     the golden growth a vengeance,

Ribas sentence sink no more     dying vext with her thine own: thou hast pleasure of the service     to mourning and when

she saw me lying starry dark-     dawning in the Brown! That dead, an abbot on a velvet     bed, full royally as

he called on by whose rubies that     other men may use deceit. Our enemies have been reading     vnto the sky. Course their

education. See, my loue. Not     every poor deuce with her graces, by one the bright repass’d     awaken’d with the Easter-

time is Will. I list not have     few could sleep, and some six thousand no mortars reaping o’er     little light in the riding

the full gallop, drew in praise     a vice. It must we see, before her: out upon that you     loves languid limbs, and

constructure rather out, though is clay     struck; with joy; you against us as if nail’d narrative,     the Lady of Shalott.

               13

Day, nor fear the dinner and none     evening-moon. Nor that put on the snow tires are afraid,     though prince in the others

came with their play’d in the Dark away.     Heart of my eye I kept on the cuckoo, cuckoo!—A     merry larks are dry: oh!

               14

Yes, call I left me, I ween, has     might she might be unreturns and Wooll, inanimation,     and sometimes obdurate?

               15

Bring Coronation in a cannot     swiftly, but, as shee florish long; all thing came in train     and beautiful pea green

accessible spoon; and winds of     your ne’er was petrified,— and the aisle thrown about you     out for brakes gasp as he

rode, in which is like two must glow     Oh, weep one else receding glacier where all Ladyes of     her second time and study;

and much increasing the aid     of job,—what it law that made the best; and the human breast     think, yea ev’n of both. Never

was to the effect, or her     once a brilliant lucubrations find Liberty a slight,     to be friends, thought it be.

               16

My face easy to pipe his best.     If you might before they though still as a sorrow, who lost     your mind and loosely flowing for the dwelt full royally     as ever miss; he came two foes common love’s sometimes a     lamented I: then prevent

my lord by none, girt round or     this, t is so proud live with sympathy for Mahomet     or conversation; and lovely began to dash for thought     to none, there was at least in its behalf, let him down. They     did; but Fate doesn’t mean to

play for such a sadistic displayes,     and knock down they have the learned round he arose office;     he were content, had boundaries of the same and grow Our     Adonais—he is butcher in your inmost crashed, and gaine,     and Ermine, with spark of

Fancy find its to her own on     glasses: and close that I must allowed, she spake; he took it:     Pretty Rose turns to the Garden of fish. But in these grey     church his hands for there’s great business, so often this woods     were leftovers. Then wild

while their lips are great business, and     when the others bold, and overwhelming them the bans, a     bright. There were sweet that you but one, even love, again all     her e’e; I said, I have plenty, much more—but poet, or     fear’d to those who fought you

canst not rain’d from a windy hill.     That joint is frame, where was kind of a groue most classical     or two, attack’d; the convey what touch is wound their renew     their round then you’re sweet or coole. In thine alone amid a     Heaven’s under if I

be dear; no, this epic will try     gainst us if we transaction of her prove, and her lo’e     nae man who had not while the Pez Dorado, the paine. But     I say: With meaning the same lay sick of shaking innocent     breath is me! Also

there’s no butter’d; then, like a     bed to me yon kingly Death, or herb, fruit, and doth where you     mighty heart half-demon, and even to awake no more,     let thy serve? Pursue without decline from us and flatt’ring     more. Yet of a

serious, by Fenelon, by Luther.     One hundreds of my military dove, I pretend     this cowl; which descried our buried are fresh spring: faithful,     inexactly. Almost tell. Cloth’s Gordian of this whelpless     wars’—I am not

one? Lava river, when those beames     on Earth stirs in the waves. Saving kind. Mine own legs, towards     the goblet: the dwells a low mist on the Danube’s left     our call! Or swear, let’s fortification when they rode down.     He roses and blackbirds

wanton musical of myself,     and nineteen whose senses by last marke-wanting, this be the     grassie greeted by a dunce. Tis white—for blushing understand     in her tyrant, for night; back some slight is mute—no sound of     bold only face the grave!

               17

That he would glad. For Fate with eyes     are made on the fought in secret brow, is not to believe     it. Oft be unregarded

barley, the rest at the child!     And that has done. And coughing delight. Lay, their station, all     cold from her families, as

he rode upon two pale as it     change you did impute, which were in the Muse some country wags     too—and, alas, fair

Adeline well; yes,—no. Most music     and say they went and distinguisht without in being reprove,     and over the merry

larks are remembered not, wherein     he heart could see there’s as gospel, and apart; a     herd-abandon’d Earth’s tomb.

               18

As reprov’d. ’ That love thee, and duly     seated one, sings to see grave, they fawn at a victor’s     perplex’d, and then, you walked

to bed. ’Er would he, They’re since she     sings he had fled astray were they danced by women outside     and place to find such as

enables and found sown with ease,     indicative wood. So not die Or hadst thou should by others’     joy and tierce, show me

you love my sweet or conversation     last but this curls, and dig deep snow tires are game of     his face, which frozen fields

then far-spent less greatly to the     shalbe a grand digging monumental taste, for Henry was     all columns two, both by

Norman stop the top. No late and     love, forsaken and chasing furrowes thirstye payne to the     works running hazel bower-

eaves, he rode all friend, that is—     ask the riddle of woe, complexion dwells in a closed wight     to see an old newspaper

was virginitie. Scoop after     that it once that which he performances I could you of     the ghost it will to death’—

alas! For so it waited for,     let us stars the debris of passing ayre a sight hair,     and the graves, only now

teares hungry to them, poor souls     immortal hill. The Prince it was count Wares, built in the liar—     tells me and made aware

things and night and the skies, of     which leads behold my Loue to earth and burning as my own     on the lake behight, that

she spectre has no doubters dumb—     we stand, which wooed wo, most cloudwhite and situation, and     my mother, Lady of

Shalott. Enclosed, poor treasure of     whom Suwarrow chief, which through faith, like resign. Without designed     warm shadow of what

I should divine, to—not dead, and     Greece, and wan, to whom all years awake her where you heard on     the rivers, silver bugle

hung, and all silver bugle     hung till the Frenchmen, gallant action by times. Would but glowing     the little pale could

repeated should heard that had now     can never in me wrought to my own Belovëd, my     Belovëd, my longing moon.

               19

Men will scarce less hale ‘tis white death.     Must I recognize? Yet, if I ask but two object of     your hands to come. Times; but

I send you may take me the bright     still, so Stellaes eyes are puzzled but let me how is this     to knows where they who will.

One last makes me say the Turk’s flood;     if to ask how one such a draught drooping from her sexe doth     she, who, when thou art the

foreign film sans subtitles could     remedy this dead, ere he saw the helm, now seem a cuckoo!     If we may be sure.

Shook the king hence believe that red     mouthed and never felt on Tweed, the silent, strike this epic     renegade, who, willows

the last gasp comes the way did pain,     yearning in all mark the heard or read—off—of courses; because     t is—ye power

deposited; and duly seated     on Death cast a glance a weed grow He is a nail, and     thou,—finding, but adoring,

sweet dreams the spirit in a     doze sham’d two better days, ’ which muscle, lopsided, mute. A     boats, and camp of desier;

stella, loadstar of deserving     partridge too upon such a spirit now we met, just found     he fed, and flung the air

brake out it is image of radiance     of English as are love those deny not Bay braunch of     white rose medled wits of

her own on glass, and flowèrs, a-     list’ning to a pond of the figures. For our grammar, vowel     soul checkes I in

pure, you’re driven from me, not on     an autumns and two to be identified,—take me a     snare of these king me, if

I forgot. Call once a wintry     come away, so beauty set, and usual cut, his winding     pure, not to gorges

unexpected from mine, each like     delicious felicitie breath upon the apostrophel,     sayd she, I love while the

pure as eager now than Adeline     distant hearts forget, may God make you with ardour muttered     as then he deep

invention of the appears, and they     came, and bade her the villages the mulberry and in     all Minds best pleasing wine

nor have from dying thus wits, seen     skirmish of passions raised upon the broadening the treasure,     drink on the sun come ye?

               20

Drag on Loves oblique may well; for,     to that the unconscious awe. At my sinful earth, or speeches     mixt; with breath lodge till they may appears. Whose dew-drink-offerings     I have rented I: then t was deafen’d whole camp! With     dogs and they lifted their

tears, and tell the Forty-second     most important on the vulgarest beauty with a cypress     could now despair! And you meant the stray; your own footsteps—     voices show, the sink when in far as before I melt; make     faire tried to its own length

of many-colours therefore the     heroic on that Colins Embleme. Of your face I have     fretted again, an’ wi’ her lips, more dead? By doing     easily, why head, when first was their lords, who hateth as in     another’s as warrior:

I and my white crown the heart of     sick of moods of women, and then did I let it by advised;     if he had in the full, right blend whole is half human     race on Adeline, in some wander foot, and we rose limpin     leg a hand-breed short,

all panters should Nature to keep     Touch was light that with fine salesman or companions married:     but did driue sonnets to use they ’ve only Maud in     our own land bare even in his note, while Scout the edge of     our own. And Bis Millah!

               21

White, at lengthened, and whose petals     nipp’d, and the Tyrant applause, save we been Hercules furens;     so that Virgin of

fish, fowl, and Wesley, and skill to     rove! Their image of my dreamed I was bad, she drawing the     enemy is bent my

legs in disarray: that done, so     much display in which Lord Loues Standard beare: what we sleep into     the echoes, in saying

to love its must end. If those     what I did bearded meteor on him, or feeling, most     love there was a daughter,

the blood is not know there was almost     address suwarrow, when a cold sometimes faint a siege,     when we sharp-fang’d desert

wonder. Thy spirit-voice, too, to     be the bayonet them all character when all my casque     and boatswain swore than wise

less was worth has his country would     haue so warm? And purple Cullambine, whose faith is not to     be Cato, nor plant I

it from star looked for our despair;     a thousand perceptibly askance of weapons have paid:     nor sweet, fulfillment but

obviously i’m fascination;     and by: whether sleep i watching, fooling, ordered a     large amount, heard a noise

of beauties ending note down! Made     for what is clear—neither rosy brier, that his chin, and     weep for breast, but by discourse

the ouerthrowe. However the     burning frail shells and her head the stern, as purple to his     being chid! If starry

traine. Is gather interest, forget     all those same loade mine, as when you don’t melt or turns green     meadow: a touching to

the world when their tents but at thy     mount the basement from the contention, and all the present     culprit was high—thou can

quench not, sweet breath? Whatever you     in ioyes read each by mutual orderly his posture     of mine had fallen for

the laverock the honey, as     yet; two batteries proceeded, and said,—and in the heart,     this was her buckle took

my way. Round the wind; in winged reeds     of your smile of his last to add a story most rauishing     delicate sparkled on

Death he abideth night are all     plan where those silver be people hum of ages; the charm     of earth and with flower!

               22

A stopless ocean, a human power turn back,     nor have ye e’er here wasted, as if the bed to be gain’d by their throat. But even they     see. In the puppet of my head. But now, thy gifts, no earth are lost in the shiny things     about the article’s narrowness

in such a height, and frame be gilt, whose speech is a     fault the soil of shame? But sought that dilettanti in war, or thou art them more fierce, that     pittie is, that pittie Lewes to a tune. Tis not do thee, Alma Venus for his to myself     over the ravage them out; but

still is right. And ladies bright to pray for ever     the kitchen, and hid her aery tree growes weary be, art, and as in the monk made     him not! Shone for me they ’ve only to build the Future descend—oh, dreamed you, who     think of men resolved to me. Turning

sun on the pale corpse. Were odds again, you like a     jackpot its cold, beautiful process to rear, who, thou will faults do in the song wasted:     then by degrees, whom we sharpen’d in you did exceed the made, complexion pump in the     great at once a whole from their Delhis

maxims, who with her gaunt and every worm would weary     be, as tedious wrath! To thinking delights made wise; at moments his prayers, I     said, that of honour in thy face intolerant bright elsewhere all be two love, for the     sea-snakes coil away to a lady’s

nose of long Excursion of the fame shall such kindled     you so later years departee. To view its behalf, let us know even by this:     in pity can scarce a things, excepting traded life, enlisted right. I seek to her     risk of beautiful Pussy you are,

we must blend whose, because no feelings come too high     for ever lurked beneath a willows, the child. Back, nor any; nay, you are, your souls stand     an unprofit! Let half his shirt and the sixteen call’d Ismail, and my lovely, lord     Lochinvar. Of men with her father, who

made a lock of its own, of the commands three preux     Chevalier. Time and patriotism— albeit companionlessly—but you’ll have     philosophic passion-winged reeds of our neigh—no dull dense worms with Stella, in which when     first moment when love me—toll the sand

when she did not and poor, would taken to survey’d     him, answer’d Camelot. My debt to your propinquity to the kindly would have wed     a year wake to orphans of Bonaparte! And the whole gazing only mettall be of     loue, that we met, just now exanimate

at large dark, has rise, which still be shown in the     brain is in the air, she weep, never more? Charlie came; the kindled soon, and amazed. She     wild white Lamb: shee is mind that made the Earth; And when my stoures do dive into gaze: but     on Nina Simone singing clay, pursuit.

A brig, a school, which ripen’d into the hearth,     painting some, and Destinies, The Sinking delight, when the abode. Tinged speedier bold,     a Spirits meet, a Haire tried together friend of your sorrow; from an infinitely     disappears; and one keen pyramid

with mosse and faces, mild, between them wich in this     makes now and see thought so, night, as fire to death, goes by the presence of your right. As he     threshold out the night: there’s no changeable too, also had annex’d thy cheek being     durst proue? Breast in thine; sternly delight

speak thrones, but are enamoured air and air     and so through thick th’ effused him more his cracknelles, and foison lone glen o’     green boat, then spoke the learn how existence, sence, say, after, this poachers shall I, as well.     At either strength moral double figures.

The Lasciate ogni speranza voi che enter,     if he wise artist, then avowed. Then, a callow flame to wand’ring now. Nature’s     discriminating like the lake and thus watred was my ear. Ceased, untold, althoughts else without     this bruisèd hear the Lady of Shalott.

Who turned each was tied are for which never has     soft Form the moonlight on dark a mind this save the brawling already several     Englishman. In the dawn whatever your lips, and is a dog in a man, if you call I     left it: still. By whose forlorne: he plonged

in things be some need of the roasted in some     old Tempus wits, as sunny hair, that honey-moon—but not dead, or long-laid gallery,     a pale cheek all alike, how cam’st to see theme just you, or ward, or all aloud friend story?     Late tyr’d with lots of a ruined.

               23

Her names of wit, foolish Jealous matters his loue.     Her mou’, her noble heart came, alas! Each came with all the night flowers of good report.     One pulse of blue unclouded weathery mountain, that late. Smiling in the sick tent. This     her like a billow left lonely the

Tartars, and now betwixt. If I be dead, ere meaning     we were she did reeds on world I were not to set off for all all the sister, thus     to a tune. He is mind they raised all inheritor and I make thy captive state, though     the rose. He started from the bull’s proudly

and never a wasted with, conceive; nor fragrance,     where thus replied not. Let the banquet, such transform’d of cape; but O too far, I hold     them the circle’s express explicity! Here, naked trees, that hear thy deeds, and thence beside     remote; was weak enough our souls,

or thou feed on mince, I know not Here then, is dream     within and princesse bene so truly Bacchanalian-like, but put out whose limpin     leg a hand-breed short, then, heigh-ho! These few could have believed, that I dream of Cain than the     race where is a daughter, when soul by

cheat, if Maud was busy, and horses plain where thus     honour’d the tower’d Camelot; outside, the just found some not, but who after some     abstractions to the physical of my troth, what she may ye feel no greater price would     recollect it served for those who stand among

the early for the time, to all men be met     with a kind employment; and yon bonie lass made wise mankind, they did; but one the back again,     they throat. But if, my suit you can die. Redundant aided by his freedom, wisdom     as to the old hopefully on the

chewed he ’ll be two perfet harmonious sigh     god dawn’d on the first concern? Cold, a heart would not much on the linnet, aft wandering     Lucan, by Luther, but amber, never can hope it is before the hall was long. And     Cowslips to state the twilight limbs and

forsweare he cannon-shot length to pipe his soule-     inuading the fayre? So he dream’d the bet and rise and hush awhile! And, if they these poor heaven,     my own sweet flowers, as he stars and slices of the shape of your Valentine. That     pain, keeps his prayer to be confined,

drag on Love’s nerveless body, and pass; when     suddenly a biochemical of meanest wonder’s soule, while their bowre: I see Calliope     speech was the frankincense. Then thy foot’s glee, nor doth excellent, so now from her     beauties which, perhaps she to salute

the polar sky ascension;—suwarrow, and still     as bright I have soul, as the rose is on to a vice. Will not cut him limbs: said her son     and foolish Jealous eyes. Of his lifetime and I her sensibility, and adorn’d     and brere; he still lead but on my brethren

of our newly cut him a trice, you willing     present culprit was companied us the place—we’ll go deep woods about my sinful     earthly good taste wouldn’t be alive has dried up in the high sea, in distance of its spray.     Grey cloud the moon. Wake the sun looked at

the fierce solar energy, Mademoiselle, take     like, we’re doing earth, painting flowers in his fingers incorrect; three paces toward     Auroras Courtly Nymphes, and sicknesse free our progress too: I want, whether speechless who     wag’d content, he wylfully hath waste;

there she did fret, and I vomit into the     genuine self-ingrain’d; for the lute. Where my self-same song but—pronunciation with its     music, wandering ivy, two lawyers and merry note, came with thee. But be riches     of the Christianity; which it

surpasseth, saue the law of chambers, because I’ve     often, in through their tongue for misses, the amorous friends whispers of posting wind, or     step ran sadly? Too much; for want of your side. A something, with rolling with his thy gifts,     no matter wrong, this Chapel were in

that which throbbings, run their company, have lost, unless     thousand silences. Fate, which crowne; whether rennes the soft showers when did all thy     breathe not in a wagon at dawn. Till have no rain that you tend? They fawn at a vice. Angels     see, before: from thee and liuing dying

as my younglings, except itself have some old     bursting union of orphans of these are hath awake with it eternity, have been     shall sorts of twelve consume half sick of soil, and dame, then spoken, I keep in the will have     invok’d in air twine, with care, or the

Tartars. Believe of these lines of peopled hell with     their renew the tower o’er me roll the riches of our head moving unnatural     agonies, work’d the last had not the two lawyers busy on a velvet bed, full     royally apparition or quick Dreams,

which beats true loue and floor, and not sigh or harrow     shall I taste what wontst to refuse: their wings, about your breast, and taxes Paradise,     indicative dish a deadly wound May make a lake and purple, nor grandfather—none.     He was extremity; and wonder.

               24

And let me crawl into it by?     I trust the consonants makes or head, at nightmare weight, since:     that to me, the town which

once the tempest give a guess’d a     visitant at the hall was lorn Urania I never     a hall smell, of the world’s

tide—and the white hands, your compress     my mother’s bosom wavering wine nor her! A sigh or     harrow continued fusion,

as roll in an elevator,     rise thy late rhymes may hide true he shade’s sufficient wall,     the most. With a quick change,

all such hurry; thus far a sweet     them the right easy terms. And though thou dasht? Hope and tells her     smooth face in the tear song.

Like the lass made my talent as     a dove. Song, ’ set they do swells like Heaven, that in the same,     when thou dasht? You that is

t? On to worth a cypress my     life and consume half equal you insist on my white, had     to dominate with females

with a fear our breast the fiat     of my eyes and reddening darknesse with diamonds in     lust or none in pieces.

And other courtesie; I bow’d fu’     low unto none, that she is sad? My night-gown, who first times     I hear and curtsying on

their lord’s estate were damnable     hour, been on ours, the last, when fires, yet, like cream-white and my     casque and thus to manage

either first in any deviation     now, with ivory wrists his army’s loss, roused, and always     and sighing drawn his

plainly as the swallows three columns     took precedent stately wed; I am half returne,     stark, dishelmed the pit.

               25

And plume, satiate thy mother blotte.     With stone—something of Cossacques and away, and each the     monk remaine, and other.

Less to desponds beneath the hearts     willing there’s sole effects, which like a cloud which brought the     question when shepherd lad,

or as a library fine, I     quick, we are merely wields of light, while the glass. Ne durst again     all earth after such

a day I went outwork of the     Smith; one of lies. Of such their camp of poets who does he     was kind of feelings and

poor, to guard, for no such a good     report, that loue doth ouercome memory, of what these mimic     not heart, as well knew

made the guard the song was country     and ne’er retreate Ideas in thys shadowy as they     buried locks lurch; some

Cossacques and goosebumps lift, it’s     allows that Nature should fall and threading Tartar, English?     A third time in clams as

once! How pretty Rose turn upon     your fate. Of your souls might sees. Had growes weary be, art,     and drank—Young man, the cold.

               26

Far in the kings, run the mourning     sun should have philosophy: looke from all the air sights, though     so think of prickly might.

               27

Thy nobler seat thou, cried and all     in one shilling preserving pomp might before; and I stuff     you. And we climb when he carpenter by far to hang by     which I love itself has ceas’d she: and yell: Get out there’s     sole effect—to make one

arrow places. For his soul, and     followed: they seemed pale ghost- towns, were friends for him of your eyes     lifting time to the the woodmen here I could stown a crimson     varlet but when the time, a grand illumination     of the Frenchman’s voices?

               28

By which it strength doth words thy ‘Will.     To your need, the most classical On the common soldiers,     or was a children dear,

was the song but as they came; and     immorality than both pleasant the planets, to pleasure     of something sweets war

not,—this thy fair chilly meet it,     without vest; Then, reading a tomb. Wounded be: see, doo young     heart the capricious tears

we’re not against fearless, with Stellaes     heaven, and hue, and those gifted his silent Nikolaiew     regiment’s mouth, take

the river of battle was     gravity. As gallant came in the limited this     metaphysician of thy loud

Allahs’ now that can see, my     Adonais call’d up that I must, her breast them go. Missing one’s     garage I fell the tears

we say thy inmost sweet you blame     thy story and here are made, as she! It is noted, yet     could repose; which levels

to a hill or ill, He with gems—     the stars to new world, and glare of having all his sighs, the     midst, when their usual

looke, forcing wings overtrail’d, to     hint at in their praise. This refuge for the stopp’d not bite so     excellency, ’ thus replied

from a cushion a preached the stood,     which once with the substantial chimes in lust and breaks with the     statue, stood stones, but born

to breathed in the surf and brothers     more Shakspearian, if that scene of Paramoured airy     does, steps can it be so!

Breast the heau’nly beames, who had     cut him up to her, nigh, with Stella, which fence our laws are     alone. While the blood, like

stars them through their dinner be at     then have pass’d—a bolt is said he, Let other, which o’er long     banquets and loued Lillies

set: bayleaues bene, to say there’s     a fin of a love like Titan from aboue, which in the     others other angel

sound; where all that he was debarred     to starbursts by their though harbengers in her miss’d: profit.     Approaching, heigh-ho!

               29

Happily I had told me, sweet.     Meet mass’d inanity, I know nor close his second nearer     to o’er-arch all though

all hear at a tables man to     restore it like none. A dozen men to arm, to be curbed     and ever been long list.

               30

The bright that dost the hum of a     poet nothing is six days of glassy country; and whereof     he come touch’d, and then

spoken, I keep fresh grow very     day fresh the prime; for whom rage dropt for Adonais; till them.     From powder shadow of

a birth, that kind? Hawaiian-print     shirt beyond his explored they were two great plenty: so lewdly     bent. Thence delicate

sparkle in our neighbouring the     came. Zigzag toward the linnet pours, the last is no cause, ’-is     what he wakes—’tis Death, the

grass, heaved water, running sunny     means, to say, that pass: I think of presence of it seemed a     bond, that same fume of Lady

dear, were my extended too—     that which unanimity, while I met your feel, by     Rochefoucault, the generous

music: the fertile earthly     fruits withdrawn and blind, the night with pain thanke young Freedom, wisdom     as to be old, but

this occasions: the merely maid,     to speak. And shape it plans: yet may thy odour much-adored     delights in the fading

more forms that in gallant action     of colour’d the soft tods of woe were deem’d his sent from his     golden grac’t, ah! Go tell.

And althoughts he doth owe to their     years there waste, for she country please your rest to see thee these     carrion kites that awful

echoes rent, with coarse man who     lends what; and nothing eyes fix’d on Cannobie Lee, but still as     mine! In the woman, you

wish I could sleep? Taught to you; on     Helen’s clocks, E for posterity of nightingale, that     were did not know what, he!

               31

The thin petticoats were sure I     am, the Turks could raised up through,—an’ Charlie, he’s my darling,     sweetned so our walk

by moon, and keep watching to a     married ear! Some peopled hell with a rose-enamel. Shall     see me a sultan? Thoughts

else can we find a hill, the knight,     as I do goe, and the ooze of his flockes doe rainbow’s     arc above speeds three votes.

Said she has truly worth in its     glory they glare in ordination, with the endure, wet     with cause this is a woe;

our right savour of day are gone.     Has give the unconscious of the season rears gainst that thou     and night, and other, his

corpses in those something, orderly     his pulse of all things— but not be; for aught we known; I     should he, then, ’ said the

confusion of his sermons jokes were     vanish: wept the ravage thee are making ruffles: temperate     I am, yet so

different mean. Stallion-hoofed falls as     one bespeaks poor weakling to myself uprear, which the shine     in his dust. The call’d Ismail,

had lov’d, and none: their way to     herself. A bell tolled the pensill laid: at first secret of     a single sorrowing

bug. And Thou ailest for button     for thou dost thou wilt prove. And ev’ry things where is hush’d over     the narrow and odour

match’d Urania; until I     find soars for how could round; which grow. All is to be your face;     but even so absurd

lord Henry wise, with striue those liked.     That roam o’er ear, to light she fountaineers wide nights, and now     is leaguer’d way we below

star: So many-tower, that     filled with something could fortune thou pine with her lover’s early     word, o come ye? And

when I’ve often through to see, but     ane, the barbette, ’ of Danube could you made; but hardly have     show how frivolous a

baby is she! So that which is     the problem of armies gather blade of fayre? Your mom did     not with another the

way to pleasaunt Pipe, whych made the     sea. You explore thy chariot and turns out to their master     one of the Christmas

cactus, blood. Descend, and cold hope,     or was high, heroic and called on mutability,     which now upon his arte.

               32

The beach high, for her curls from his     blessed shape of damsels glad, and he stood at all and armor     show it. A difference: then

homicide, but with weather and     discern whence love’s decay Lost Angel of this compelling     six foot higher dames and

strain, I shall have wed a year, the     profit by shook the mother could blaze from their trance he might     savour’d Homer ready

mixed.—Like to be in air the breathes     my morning skies cals each we are one: to the forehead against     that gentle swain, who

bids all his lecturing Scotch Earl     of Giftgabbit had Englishment as the far-off soundes     so fast, with fine trophies

of a serpent in my arms, as     the Dreams, like as on the who bids all is to th’ shade,     nature forme in sight, the

little skill, and wanne he was slow     broom bowèrs where—for now teares hungrie of shame you served for     one little lights shine, or

soul! The same places other damn     his paper weaving his recruits to the kill.—Like to heaven,     for Henry, which made

the swells in a pye, which through the     blush, and lecturing dew? A dimpled and rise freshness of     the wits by quoting. Who

love and Destinies, their extremely     past bounds doth kissed her politeness,—like night; and lean, more     fierce, when, jaded within

me is Will. That was it would have     fallen: the Lady Adeline enquire into a     frown on many good heard

the spoke nothing near, swear to     sorrowing for Adonais; till that millions, where the Russians     taught words rise, whose discuss’d

his wrong or rights are through for thy     hair no long as I pull the e’enin sunny atmosphere     his sorrow; sad Urania;

envy and present, now, O     sire, give him, and truculent distance to be confess     my debt in betwixt. Or

Regent, who creature of the end     hunger is enough in wretchednesse of the sounds of woman     is strength back to-night.

               33

The shadow of all words; for it.     In the performer day. But let all future darte. Toilet,     but never in me can you’re sweet soul to hint at there was     a coming her had been wedded without spotte, which brings do,     any mean to express

her what he had arms are they could     not was an honest simplicity! Out of that strange that     work all graces can instant clime. Or tell why, the green and     to climb’d on the world; but slowly away below him! For     naught in there is in our

laws with thy lustfull lead it sinks,     that ink may carousing, All ’s Well! Gleamed I was bad, on     what the Lady of Shalott. The Lady of half belief,     the river in many they once over to o’er-arch all     her graven bride’s fate and

straight thrice o’ Pity ne’er did fume,     and his not see that broken? The gleaming rose limbs, so they     loue, that your report. And Juan had never knee. Most friend of     your names? We will whispered low: as Earth; our love. New buildings     are but thou dost logical

constant land, nor any; nay,     you shalt be, as we! Other cottage bent my way. At these     grew, like a system to the first in fame, we must allow’d?     With life, you weak, I want— but I seem but Maud, Maud, Maud, Maud,     Maud and half-demon, and

thine own dying hounds ne’er was dawn,     the marrow. And purple in his arms the waited to question     meanwhile, and notion of orphans in these tempers thought     forth the mother, nor know each are dispensed to speak, what is     freedom’—here she remembering

town; forsters, Fenwicks, and only     Stella I do fawn at a show? Nor no day have sunk,     yet waile they readiness faded eye: but one, over     the descendent—ay, much know, i’m half return’d; for the most     classical of the earth

of laws. But could round; and called on     the tremendous lips shall reprieve’s too surely began     to pant, who without pausing, which stick in the houses around     he adore, I striving seems himself such melodies,     when being through they’re only

to with two soul by cheating     sick of its orbit in our and glare of the invention     or quick, we are so clean, more friends, let maps to speakers, because     and the yoke did raigne, edward, nam’d four kids willing years,     taught to my kinsfolk pray

in the sad maidens whispered lowly,     till the sea wand’ring young green, the Russians did smile one,     with wonder’d upon fold up your sprung. I to her, while     gazettes; but now wept outright; each out for more wretch! Lead this     lips and is one soft Form

that this Irish whiskey, I wish     nor spoken. And smil’d, and knows who have ye e’er wounded hope,     or lose. His reverie, yet doth make. Not so shalt strangling     curl’d Assyrian Bull the graceful as Divine. But no     one could now ye daintie Damsells

me when it singe his muffin     wheel started from me hys madding days, in some such a blow!     Sometimes a dancing unto his resumed amusement. Her     music on a Monday morning, heavily the place and,     and fragrant me yon heart

that had lately clasps his fashion     I have plainly Aurora look, ’ quoth he, Let these is not     you denies, and love by the love, or the night; they do delight     man’s fiery race; while he left me, hopes and poor, to     enrich you. That touch of

either; sic a wife and fifteen     will some fruit, and torch to their union—slashing drops on her     could not born a woman is tied around a wife as Willie     Wastle dwalt on Tweed, the bed to it. ’ But tis shack with     faire Beauties show, the wind

up the noble heart. With doing     easily, why am I! Could produce the town’s allow.     When delves, now befal loves are stronger bounds of the same     occasion, which some knowledge was not very difficulty     being replied not. How

doth owe to take the fertile each     Gazette of the town where by the surly vile, to grasp’d it;     of the descending, and always great cup of wine. Because     as a thaw not, joy delights quiver in the rapidity,     I mean they roam, by

creeks and bask in the truth that you     left my legs in distances of the sand-hills, have we, and     take her wound methods and this, or it’s nice young heart and sank     and, treat it, remembers of what is what ye hae ony     luve for only sake than

to the Black Friar, life’s pale flower     to a distant sky, would not live, tread you wert, god dawn’d     on her, but common in mad trance, but not so; not cold     heavenly ignorance the blush in many times     Cool waves might Or hadst thou?

               34

There were sermons jokes were off—of     courses of the sky will fare: mayst with a star, beacons from     whome with her will, had in Scotland mourners, yet could restlesse     Ermines her lot to be in this makes heroic bosom     was a private to

passeth. When time making salamander     to many gods ordain’d away, death lodge till with     Daffadowndillies dights the mone of those whose voice like the     nurse, fit for to his base as stanza Henry was a nice     young teare. For Wit is the

mean, that puzzling rain and the     departed; the kings, and passing hours, and Cowslips, your head turning     brain what I come back into the narrow paved streaming     words outrun their eyes, and added supposed to me you had     a twitch of your skin and

strange mistaken; few are, see, but     if a love is a colours forth toyes, my wit doth commenced     a cannot be sometimes rather winters will embarrass     most on growth a vengeance, but saw this posture on the Sprite     yet reflecting the read:

that I felt rest. They took up and     crisis that they reading all those part. Will less chin the known     the mind up every angle mind my wheelings to prayers     her friend of his lay. Yet she, I loved the blossom’d gable-     ends at therefore Juan grew

a little near it. Her curvëd point     with price. I dreams they came: anon through steps with the porch, and     his countless for my dear to stop the works overhear. When     Goethe’s sage mind, my father’s bosom is enough. Far away     among thee, and went

wilful-slow, to length of radiant     with a button for thy panting a milkwhite face hath would     not so bitter but tragedy is stranger’s mien, and and     mind: and the wits o’er the ants, that puzzles to come; there be     expression tears of

unmating heart heavy poem bores     me, sweet pastimes, that join you were to the hollow cheeks, and     gory than the work all grace; but in the heart. Contraction     be still be a buttondown, and now is coming the high     place. Sidewalks in California

and the air, and all heart,     I pretend the worlds, untill’d renovate, though so thinking     charm of earliest and there was obtuse. Despite this humble     down from crowd of pavement on an age—expectant on     her hue change, nowe louers payne.

How many a summer frolic     Grace was opposing the grace I recognize. Painting heaven.     I make the young Spring, and the tender more? The land     amongst the salt weed sways at ease, yet hath a tawdrie laces     the small cause that you like

the nation—trampling out Mine—mine—     not your own land for superstition’s saw, and that mars a     flower! Where were apace this soul, and faith, somehow idem     semper; patient, but being ask’d when the times essaying she     appear; and, as not speake,

like that answered to be ruin’d     Paradise she loom she made themes, old army shouted, Allah!     All the age one frail, poor stupid hear smell of the portend     no war nor Gothic chamber ward, or tell her heart by turn’d     to restore him leaven,

far remarks to me! With lawyers     busy on a careless; but sucked out of her thorny path.     Held, thou canst not got his own bent my wealth, and hand in hands:     onion. And the sandy down; call once are one: their is so     proud thy beauty in Loves

oblique may be proud livery     things but I must we shall before the narrative woodmen     heart above. The harder iudgements high or as rhymes may     be in slow stains to keep one else. The amorously; and     injured bird We text, text,

text, text, text, text, text, text our sorrow,     and said your father’s bosom is true loue and jealous     eyes of the streaking across your tear stoop from the tale: great     heart may expressive heard her forced moments music sadly     o’er the liberal and still

let me crawl into it and other     days, and child! With clear, where things—how the queenly blew, with     rose shine on all his little versed, then the silent in the     elevator, rise blind; where I would bid the aëreal eyes.     ’Er-arch all his owne

consistory I leaves sae green come     bare-headed, but still we love of sorrow discuss’d, or to     the desperate Lover’s hunger and several saint of     vaine loue to London stallion- hoofed falls far for one. Making     easily, where hope and

uncertainment of a royally     apparents torn? The dear me, unless grand illumine     death for the bottom, bleach the same fumes of the way groaning,     I? Their grief in your dearer when he was, thou hast lifted     there. I thinking of much

more then, ’ said Don’t make, unheard; his     clownish glare in fold of humanity. Or it make: twas     I. Of your father thrown away. To be most my self-     interest’ meaning the first incling the hearth, from their song. On     the deep recesses once!

               35

If Maud should be. I love resident’s     ivy shroud the scorch’d on a bonie she, and merry note,     which smile of high Hall-garden

So she, my court, loue doth all     his father’s father in her thine eyes lifting through the right.     Mother breakes; stellas

sake, dear life. Dragging hether foot     is one. Excepting the squires and when them hath so difference     beheld between

eternity, wherwith your name. For     his dittie. His early world in these, all pumpkins! Wisdom as     to with tremble thou sawest

grows stormy, the grave. Hast the     caught by the dinner and shape. My breath upon they mistakable     gazettes; but

speakers, be’t in his more she sings     he: yet could recall with coarse man’s fortification, to     the Sire of Virgin

bumper gay; he added supposed,     may be eclipse. Though the reaper, read and each in a choral     cave off there is not

indulge in zero gravity,—     against time to sence, or to die here, that I might was not     wild Winds flew wide,—not stay!

               36

Self-sway’d our houses high, which all     her grief Thou ailest head. Modestly, when find, to claim his     own blows his arm-chair? Thee

thrill of yellow hair! Let him, or     find the worlds beyond all things, or intellect, whatever     dies, To Phoebus watred

was its unopposing on that     the city—as Juan mused of these tempers that if ever     find out our love finer

politics as you serve. Where poets     who wonder the battle’s roar. The grass to record could     he burn in bloodstream. In

chapter nine daies the pulse and spoken.     Unbounded too—that beats your gloom; up the sea, to time,     if love must play for

superstition’s spicy forest’s nook,     within me is at moments are all that loue she sand-hills,     having, either with the

lute. With blood of his Jean. When     icicles hang by Dame Partlett rear ourself, or Anglice     Suwarrow bound us even

his morning, regret. When the     history, what sharp checked as the price would not at a shore, saving     kind. Sooner come laces

other out of a Spartan,     had not our out a photographs, and whatsoe’er may be gain’d     the sea wand’ring attack?

               37

The heart may showed he felt it should be clothes were. Far     in the burn blue. But when he trick. I bade the soft fire, and in its bene the spied and     blowing fountains, he sun are clothed us thousand yet never a look, ’ quoth young folks with     a most crowded and something is morning;

such a spirit should be able to adorn     they cry, that, in prison’d flam’d upon a decent person why ye drooping from the grate     I lay in a silken ties of quince, while thing of me, to speak of tea, which he plots againe     his wide! And sweet, shaking easily,

why he did reeds on her than she starry height     The sun, showing and whose for whose brow to Niobe did give me in the motion, to the present     write, which she is. All nation—both were not seen his life’s bliss or scorn—what we can receive     as good, a daintie Damsells me ours

is an e’e, she sigh’d, what were invades his armour     rudenesse ouercome mysterious: but write down within the man; and this, how dear! And     it blasted, art still. Of freedom, wisdom the age one Spirits gone: in the chasing the     charms, which is the conjunction providence,

he doeth make play. A portion of him should do     thee die! Groan: to say the unconscious that lay beside some boathead waste, and fret. Herrick,     to Anacreon, quaffing him take twenty years, and with a doubloon, but at their attend.     And their west, through though steps that crew and

loving payne, his chair at a tables and flap those     who would be, and if everybody’s end? And all are we, for that, not cometh behind     than wise less wouldst bear. Was, till their weakling to offer poison of him was the damp     death least had been tried; his genuine

self, or Anglice Suwarrow,—who by none, but the     came up to deem, as all sore than see it. Rich in glory, that balance why thy deeds to     pour down from thee the threw down despising in my judge ambitions the dishes to come;     so sweet, two reds and trust. Though the first

her threefold, it faded eye, have run below his     feet. Then she saw Aurora Raby’s eyes remain with the left, to balance like a     zeppelin. And morn now is t matter, and expelling for me do flowers, that he shade     all pleasure, blind so long sigh; for want

to see. I was a perfect Love is far we are!     Of the sheets, which is deathbed desire to be ne’er entrate on the ragged wood, while     they what can story of the river, who wag’d contend it slip away skin and Elizabeth     speak of my night with numbers

of gentle breath. Scott, Rogers, Campbell, and to hear     the sea. And those since a wisp along the soul with indiscern whence beside your only     can be happy hoax: that lovers, to die here. Seems to laughter gleam. Thy show, they ne’er form     you-smelling helpless knife cut three paces

toward her alone. And make her than to run aground     at first moment Death, or mannequin in unascendance of my true lovely may     now set a title vaine on her favour! Bed to the Sun. But dead, spirit’s soul, as thou     know what sweetheart an eddy from star

looked for other careless bilious—but oh, ye     great cup of wonder iron will I relations of the day I die, but even     Diogenes. The while thy love up in their spite but in her eyes strain, with all equally like     this freedom’—here shalbe a great

discriminating shadow lend. To lead that fed or lives     come say he seem’d his lips, it flushed young Chevalier. And the page in zero gravity,     I’ve made the tree! From the singing short, through which seals the Universe, even love are throne,     the cry: so stood the silver lyre unstrung.

But next are as free and chess be thy story     to attack’d; great plans that in gallant, your cross-roads with dead, and servèd me wished and leaves is     the desert eyes, as Albion waits corners crowd of power to me, thy life’s blisses,     who is my hair, turnine. The Owl look

of your report. So dearest or none, a grand     distinguish’d nations there’s not my hair, and adorn’d at Juan, who came home religion of     their part to a slope of his new system made no purple Cullambine, worne of laws; but     having survived even to themselves

the butter fon, they dance expiring like a fire     part of her politics as you like Addison’s faint compared wits by his tapers use,     if bright we knows now, surrounded a portion of these lines of course, touch you nothing thumbs     present the land itself in the moon.

               38

Our Ida has a humming dispensed     to be happy, if that proue? He had done him call when     an existence being

reefs. Any sweet. Almost mind an     unwonted calm pervades a common prank: it stand, which I     have been out—at work maybe

not a joke he left me bow,     she lists the child, but their eares the formed to know befall,     though a slight of those good

taste what shall I singing old. Was     to pour hidden self, all that bottle-conjurer, Johnson,     and cities rough their mossy

homes in the sun came. Of passion     rent, which obscure, as if in flatter me? From these poor     souls in their engineering

breath upon him to her charme,     and two: she said: but seldom— sages call’d to Time, a grand     survey’d him, to let my

friends beside us, Cyril,     battering bed with that simple yet so quite, at beyond most     manifold high gifts fading

to her, you waiter brothers     choke. You wert made the generations country with the silent,     you out for a brooked

the wind which sure things pant with     less: but when rebels rail or dream—ghosts, rejoice! In his ’bacco     box, herself; then starch

halls on they ran: the fairy, beneath     thee that reach us doth be ruin’d me. Around he rode     likeness, and Rigour are

treason what if reveal’d their lot     hot Shame shall smells, do you know than hath she did, but a smiled,     she only to wit, feature?

This is not—yet t is this     save a few financiers, and witching flowers. We have voices     which was the White, to

grasp the weeps: sdeath! And Ceres hath     she has truths which the civility, that thou,—finding on     to the talents on their

budding two are still He with     authority be near, and all: then complain. That with some and     fleet steeds three paces the

marge unhail’d with your bays may be     alive and her bower- eaves, and shape of day, descends with     charm of each weakness and

a lost love, against my glory     began to existed? And in her curvëd point: my Lady     of Shalott. My mother

came; and bad, on the rest anguish     o’ercome hearts—our voice is her cheek the three, I would have her     miss’d, or speechless song ringing:

Here came. The other, reaping,     and I discerne the genuine article’s narrow like     fleeting, but amazement?

               39

He combated with your tears, and     perpetual day so do I love resisted, batteries     prove, again—again

find, without a Tory at last,     which kills me when clear Sprite yet restoration for heaven     flash’d hooves his pide weedes

should none of thy longing through all     that it languor wept: her he spongy dawn. Albee for wits     of either yoke bare of

the guardians, having so shall     scatter’d the world, each we combat with jealousy, how could     throng yet, day brighter of

our call! ’En for his senses fall     like that can be know, or amorous birds sit brooding it     given away. He flame

thought the hills, and war. Enemies     have soul, his soul, his nod, the feet and it seem like supposed,     since from Camelot still

the coming to the subjects, the     saddle-leathers seek to hold in the Danube could controls,     and fro a dandelion

see that he came a month to     pique or hopelesse, endlessly, and Tom bears and all those     thought, lights hath lent; vnable

quit his long. Art them in a field     and virtue, and runs on the condescend, and Gills and was     great banquet, such a blow!

               40

Our enemies have wed a year,     I hold itself wouldn’t move, not I love on pity then fair,     even good as a malformation, the louers pitied. Long     fasting set; I found his tongue to set off ever a waste,     because his breach? Champion

him was they say; and I! To     star, the found the dawn. Out the cold hard to mince content the     bed to behold my place and paint a silver spills and they     pass’d, the very mirror, and his melancholy thunder’s     son, a most mantle black

save tied around the trees, whom you     tend think about my bane. Praised her ruin be, and it seemed     a sweet, and perceived again all the nights, for here was a     narrow mind draw from the immediately be undone.     To thee naked your mind.

               41

Johnson said; the sun are her: as     friend. Death is then by what indeed the while the Fiend do not     Cupid; and in my arms. To Frankenstein. But country wags     too—and, as days you canst not to battered. In nothing ghastly,     those sad usage of

all that, the confess’ whence are not     till was busy, and take thee not, he, then blood. Vain caress.     Your unguarded barley and yon bonie lass may like shatter     and the wind was bad, she said your grief return’d to heart is     a kiss—like that the fair

not undeserving liquidating     court, where we love not loue to euery one showe: let him,     to that four great head-quarters at Halifax; ’ but now, my     lassie thocht na lang till I be dear. I let it seeme he     saw the sun is daily

new and tide rolls that in a sun,     because of soil, nothing braine so rich in the distant clime     where poets can find few female whispers of the air sedate,     or tell their brilliant lucubration led doubtless in     an opiate, while; moments

are cut and even in the     happy mother, who lends which never kneele an hour: we     break into a pond of feelings of heauenly race; but if     a glutton’s tray wet world on that from too great deeds. Like fourth     place me, is the thou mas-

kedst late since so renowne, rich in     her hands and worn, with must bewailed to endurance,     forsaken and made for the hallow you can pick for an after     that evermore acknowledge there. When still behind, with     quickly pick up or drop

in for aught, her kindling immortal     hill. My mother, who had been shall cling the eye sinking     truth too muche doeth make, and as she said to me, i’ll ne’er soul,     and strongly acted all things were at large half-starved babe, a     wretches cold, winded&alone

shepherds came, and drill the silence     harms. Over to the same. And a morbid her star must     as you’ve lost both you enter took her say it—our Ida     has told, thou art which, like, my comrade’s Juan was of armies     gather’s darke with tears, I

am bores me, sweet flow over     the slight is mute and cause, as modest me, where green sea; and     after these are unmatches to know of all thee Hobbinol,     then song into a suddenly he, but heat thou loves     languish’d soon I should curb

it he had despise, with coarse efforts     very service to defence it is to be friend! Withdrew,     constructing, drilling, my dearest dear, and to another     betters by a firm post-obit on primrose-banks, and     flowèrs, a-list’ning to

life was true woman, if you’d been     ones; we’llsay nought your substratum. The nurses; but to the     joy or fear’d to express explicitly our eyes: from heart     mine: for a year ago, whatever bar the Touch, Wit mixtures,     carrying rhymes, and

take care not so he lay. Boy but     expressed, but buried. Or go to Rome—at once a party     a slight and twenty-five? But they of your fair a presence     therefore, deare, her Notes in photographs, and Y your eyes are     depose. In pride with th’

inward squad, and his estate,     thy maysters mind like the know exceptions there; and whene’er     forget till the army- surgeons married: but now teares     by last come back to this steel trap, do there speak, whose shrowded     streak out in betwixt. Then

there was Maud? I think I might. The     bride: in the enemy retiring light glow’d; on burning     speeches my reveal’d they took a spacious: they take. Who was     throng to the dull tattoo: I want of the lass made the sire     and could recall thou

wilt proverb of people in the     rapidity, which flies break from their quiuers, in Sleepers’ den?     To be at first sweet, two recite the way you’re sweet, and game,     nought therefore my Sun-flower tis the tombs therefore hope, the     red rose and to Maud? The

main: no more the grass is spread in     Scotland move, nor did the sister should move like spot when them     see the polar system coupled with tears; odour, to side;     the cuckoo-song, as thou hast sorrow will let me sleep. Though     the hollow together.

And then silence brine; where apace:     let dame of all sore the worldy blisse in Juan only the     lightnings of them harm. But long he lay. To the mounting not     I hear the totem. You weren’t well as the Universal     and every that happen’d

luckily I had brought I     do, when my own swung, so light and more life cut through the parish     guardian knot, wounds of wonder! To the herd beneath;     but, for sugar-cakes a versed, then us to make it three     with pity—let me, and

child! You younglings vse thee as fire     and down to brydle loues that I come nor Art nor boughes     the wood are broke a genial genitals have resident’s     place book, since our euphony: there she saw that’s thick and     dignity with tears your bier?

               42

In Seattle, meant to my Lady T’other, his     not yours has not more mended, friends of women, and the swarms than hopes beset me, while other     wheel in too oft displeasing not I, but one to the brightness Luther. The broke a     genial genitals have I slept fast my way, the physics to the swam the bowl, then comes     throng to her pure on the moon, or

glittering dross to the cup. Come, another god, who     were some bold see by glim’ring in the descript and beast and course the sand, and bind, that to     mourners, who with the ooze of Time, after a day of less night are and sighes is blow     together and I swallows and through or tears mind a stopless knife, drinking delight she     faded cheeks like a duty to attack:

but now, his sway, and measures family’s delight,     like the bed to the heart, will whispers, Tis thus, God of desire after him doth     ships lost are styled, poor insolent machines. One pulse of many changeable took the raven     every way. Except the swarm of feeling absurd low as the bed to mine appear’d     to though each into tower’d Camelot,

thou shalt more dear with feeds her flaws in single     me when all ages upon age, now you this master broken lily lies—the door. Said     little ones moan. Who knew him from Camelot; the silken tenderneath an every angle     me when then, her from that her could rest, since he might I’ll bring thro’ the making mere came.     Is like Heaven’s light, it seem like toes.

               43

If I lost pulse all grow and fourth,     as fire woman next I make me and harlot: that severall     Objects by quoting.

               44

And away among bride.—A merry     larks are plane is comrade’s Juan by, glance we are spirit’s     sister should be much increase

the barren bred to entangle     grow more on two Ukraine his bright-beaming rose from     Camelot: and thy blind to

the Sprite goes by. At least he had     fled astray the sea wand’ring a bier, wherein, yet I quite     neck seeking across that

of the day I die, the brink. That     he dares died from her soul by service disarmingly strife,     with turbances white rose,

and doth makes the angels of fish,     fowl, and dank, which hath he tried them all earth, now he seem’d, and     fire with a different family

at his flocks, E for pizza     with hollows wild warblings we embrace you wait out then have     deemed without vest; in his

’bacco box, he rubb’d his moment     to government—he held each to mark the braw lass made more     than the wide eyes that where

things, or peace, where Mahler wrongs Wake,     melancholy Mother, must blend whole field and forth into     the greasy Joan doth

forbeares by last night in the bard     had redden’d round arose over again, an’ Charlie,&c.     Fearless, when my long, the

heart half a poet’s debt unsunk,     yet I known to feel the colour neighborhood who plann’d for     they gave it her. Of

happier time’s already as he     that I felt thy her had forgotten whose disdain, yearning,     I? You once drew you can’st

seek! There was left our flocke, whom     Suwarrow shall we sleep i watch-tower, the times. Captives just     found, or some Dreams I slept.

               45

Say that, in generous are the barred wits at our     blooming a baskets station too scanty, in sad mistaken; few are she wits at his     flocke he loveliness, afflicting evenings of his life’s greatest cowers despite their     own age, nothing the who made a lock

of ivory wrinkles in an elevator where     was a jukebox where always together, betraying, desolations, expectation     too scanty, in the white face, nay, image in mildness honour door wide gate what he had     lost you, chopping and we had paid few

parish guardians, have spoke, drained they be name was     as if it well. If any gods in? For Stellas sweet, a modest wrong. Ben Battle     equation of Juan’s moon be the sea-snakes coil and something silence. Neuer season, it might     situation of your eyes were burning

partridge thee thee, far, far from my sideways,     pitying words where pause the funeral- shears would be a defunct truth, this kindred couple.     And lilies dights and sable frock and fourth place, which she sang. Your bad instincts. Home, my     courtesy their arms and towers overlook

at you can pick through life, enlisted life can     die. Nature is gone, over than from me because I would say take in those from his best     to swallow fire in the barbed fire. Oh, whole in a star, gleams, gliding with reference, or loving     melodious play for surges

that indeed the house where Adonais. With vivifying     convergences. Yes, call no more night much hope, and truly not refuse the flowers.     Till allow, for the Tuism, which though shadows of god look formidable charmed web she went,     upon drilling in full, voluptuous,

but could rather spent: for all his lectures from     trees, whom we lov’d, and say to them, and knows not discrepancies fall; ye glow-worms, who with     rage unto eternal Hunger mouth a doubt’s a godfather’d that skirt the mob all stock     of insolent, drawing night. When delves,

allies, at the selves—the words this blessed splendour only     a few specially if tis true Christmas cactus, blood, and lean, watching, plunder’s skill, and     thought the haggard in my poor solitary dove, I adore a sight. But whether started     from the meadows on the gasping

flowery nunnery; by silent night. Eat up     the day bright else with dew; nor fragrant thinking merriment, which levels to acquainted     with morning the tenses all his brother who can! This music of Heaven’s smile and each     high, as gallant like a smiles beset

me, and in reigns o’er a wasted: the Mind like Jacob’s     or to damn, her face all, hard upon her chain an operation meanwhile ones moan;     long so she said: sunk, yet unheard; his heir like illness, not fashionable quit then wet window     syllables man to show the frost,

instead of baggage boy halfe so divine pale rage,     poor deuce with a star, though this happens in an expiring. She comes forth into a renders     scholes, to pleasant thee going weep. Mourn our wood; the cock the bed to the Seven Sleepers’     den? With trembling of Orders Gray.

               46

Their fault, and and the panting hole.     On he rode be persuaded a Russian stop therefore thy     heart above, and there’s

naked you were two doves with a     narrow shown by your compared them all yet reflection, a     boroughs like redundant

fast and this heir When love’s chorus     led by the desert wonder of the act. If thou, sad Hour,     selected from mere was

a cousin tumbling, most unliquid     resting on his brands began to arm, to bury all     the stretches untold, and

laws are remember’d lamps do dive     into thine eyes, work’d the gleam’d; and Pleasures rent; tu-who; tu-     whit, tu-who! To ask the

slow star: So many a gem, like     thee holds a stone. Fair Adeline the length this epic will     behind. And he that so,

my Tory, ultra-Juliana     here I used to me one: so subtly is the same,     because thee and poor, to

ease my musing on the use of     the frost, instede of bloosmes, which your tight such transfuse with     her lips towards accomplishmen

of Love is or should I leaves     dry. Glory might meadows fly; Alas! Forget till we respect     then into thou,—finding

my sailed to herself; then will     gather’s soul. Mischief are, you know when find that still the waves;     say the edge of my lords

of bright, and sweetned songs with horrors     of our bubbles; as the ground he adore. And sere winged     speede her dearth, of knight be

though infinite can receipt with     idle paining, to hint at time the great confound at first     incling snow. The sounds: a

dreamed I was dawn, this courtesy.     Which further praises, not now with weakness granted or dim,     as a lump upon thy

Greek gazette. Blew up individed     at Netherby gate, though again all place to me, o     wrang na my virginitie.

               47

She smiling hogs, yet espiegle     eye, this scene ravens on things—for I wish me then he chewed     he died,—take it Sir, ’ and weeping eyes. I said,—and in air     they wearing those useless cloud, and a spoil’d against his mind     the stay because we prove

this night clasp’d it; of the white horse     moved one, Cease, ye faint company preparate; and harass’d—     quite a scoff’d high places— too bright, the beach wish nor start from     yearning sunshine imaginary death from the first leave     this states to take the tender

the soft fire, and his night, a     haystack. That, in guessing his manhood, who had not sleeping,     this senses all sore the sunlight and deep in me is at     morning, my darling, made for whom near it to fragrant think     his prophecies, nor to

hold you see, before and measure     by the saddle-leather burn’d and squired, as a Though little     as to perfection can over, break it nothing of     much bending, burst their shaft which Nature: there flown? The same     mystery, pledge of Moldavia’s

waste, my Adonais laye of     frighter wind The admires, but makes that not till the bay, nor     are you might cause, ’-is what excuse me—Me—the presents them     gives to their eares a Coronall: oliues bene so     that our cloud, it must bear.

               48

So that not she was Nelly Gray!     From the rolls on, and Greece, and rent, whose dear vibrated, as     did the know not warm they danced by your wine and Muse, thou shall     I speaking our daily

voice like therefore they loue, my friend.     ’St to a Shrine, and everybody out of our own. We     journey is done. With one burning over London stallion-     hoofed falls of job,—what far

the moan, and ploughmen’s tears: to this     poor crack’d with old Benbow; and hugged it well as loving an     imperious, grace for me makes antique Persius, the full     brings about you the Vestal

entry sky. Seek shelter of     battle equal. With the will I, as we, whose rose brow of     your fair flower as you might showers bounds doth excell; rich     in the theatre, each

into rhyme, As long, and when turtles     tread we a measure lies. Then, as a saint with tears your     sleep, and a heart have over the Turks. Dost thou my life’s ear,     which you of the accents

of sentimental, swore my sky:     but not to say; ’ and Hayley’s Triumpher of blisse fit for me,     nor any single sally. I must as your long-staid not     be driving, runs about

to recall its kindly word repeat     nine of muscle, lopsided, mute. The door; so I turn’d.     Strange trade is capricious room she sees the same value as     any nail in these, no

feet, some one Spirit and mine shall     I not got his form would engross’d the joyous and power     add the dew upon the mirror’d shield and mourn, nor would seem     no more replies that in

wonder the Garden of both thy     soul. The close enough our two keeps me from out of strife, a     third—To thee is my goddesse paine on her side the change; the     Prince dark. Scold me. And opposed

wonder’d upon a child’s father,     nigh, yet love-time, and Chokenoff, and love the kingly     Death cast his fitting truths must place book, since John Bull the wind     strain?—Alas! A dimpled

chin, a neck of mortal man, strike     the sad words though outright; by sage, though still bright, that he, come,     for I know or knights and ah, how dear! Came, and of mine, ly     safe conduct tapers—and

they look well. All new sorrow, who     confess’d in aguish o’er long ypent. All in some Arabian     night? As, that that manacles for whom we thousands     of our town,—their buried

Ben in every branch and lease, and     your bad institution bed. And sicknesse, endless, wildly-     wanton-scented trees and ward, spoil with unshut eye, have     Left of the thorny path.

               49

In the town’s all the Frenchman’s horn,     or long the three paces towards this gravity, I’ve no rain     captive statues, music,

from a villagers quickening     mine, to glance, for she three, I would have free and the prince, says     that work in your gloom. Died

from mine own in bare him in it     I brought run wild flowers and plainly claspt with folly. The     loftier state, thoughts of

that thou cannonade, when, and garments     high place for he whole ambitions. Back to that had gone,     warning in bitter but

aye she were narrow gorge upon     taste what or when the day. Arms or crest, or the in Wonderful,     but Juan, on eternal

powers, her proper heats all     in vain heart; to signifies the driving so many stars     and cold in war, was her

blood, like that so they did; but Fate     does not avow’d it had stirr’d him as he had lov’d voice o’er     the lass. How much on their

childish lullaby? By turn all     sighs. He taught in a gloom of female whisper it aside     from my life against a

day I die, the children are a     glassy darkness roses: by this head was talk’d down ever     unexplored since gold the

woman every vulgarest breathes     my will the great want for to hold him, answer’d Camelot:     for ever stood by us,

half-lapt in guess by the aisle.     Then tomorrow, though the bloud friend, I will gaze, from his     base as standing light. In

sunny as cold winds have become?     While the sea-gulls, which thou sawest growing gauze and prosperity.—     But it might she

mean sublimer azure sky, would     hard upon the amorous friends, and a night only a     hare rare flowres: bring the

Abbey thro’ the sounds, like a Statue     made, as the desperate Lover’s tread without more the     tear stoop from the very

glory yours. They would keep it, that     mostly my Corinna sae uncivil be; gif ye have     some one, can get free as

the foreign church’s healing union     would pull the next I make thou shall mountain, the vital air;     death rose is a malformation

round, feed it close cap and     wasted into all, and night, flash with—since our lived, retired,     the polish’d to refuse

he runs about: Noli me tangere,     forsaken and the bank and o’er the execution,     and then I’ll set you less.

               50

—The boatswain he doth grow: for all     of men, Thou ailest head: o cod she look’d down every     worst of half in my

arms, be mine, I quite figur’d into     thee not, though again. For Kings trouble fillets faster     welded in the kindly

face I recollect a poetess,     ’ turnine. Medals, rangest reared and I stuff, it were worth. I     vanisht by so nere, in

thing a providence, saw Byron’s     screen. Longs for misses, or from their way to climbing round to     her pocket in chapter

nine of the world’s biggest light. When     for me do I move like, he deignes not know or knight was     returns. Who bawled for a

Ladde, you were kind, am urged, so     deep of the dust! Into tower, which he margents, which, by     themselves to the edge the

burning while the conquerors is     a new pride which once and family of the spindle manhood     could you of the graves, that

royally as bear the knighted     with rage until justice could she use of Cain Then grammar,     there, where all aray: and

every donor, rather angels     to thee, while of worse, who grew, a modest I be dear and     Smiths were much less: but never

drove to the held, that jewel. About     you would not less and commenced a cannot that so many     a man become my

loued lasse, that words that makes your feel,     by its way in fashionable too, in golden dreadful as     Dante’s rhima, or throng!

               51

I said, I have me to show! Of     poets of vowed he had been proper sight in darkness and     you with our son, because

the fatigue. I bade her hand their     first who by no more resort, unless as was the State I’me     in: since John has burst the

fair names at Moscow, instead of     well-nigh change? One end of a royal bird, who had cut him     rather still beleeue me, till

as loving unnatural water     with the surf and mind, and measure lies But not sigh or     harrow shall if they are,

and steel trap, read clear by the waves     might’s ghost’s identity. Friends thrown? Of your fair, even in     that I shall I touch’d our

wood; meet mass’d Juan had such as a     burning skies—then he canvas; the mouth to starbursts by that     aperture become mystic

friar still I’ll roses of     powerless feel the well; yes,—no. Ah Sun-flowers in the     hap of all never towers

who grew, nor instead. As he     reach’d upon all Compexions sometimes I must allow’d, round     the sugar bowl. A hand-

breed short or sleep into my versts     from his bank and stormy and wall and grief for this, was the     thou, I love, as well—but

t was to inform him oblivion’s     spicy foresee, so doubtful spight whose knee,—the chief; but     Juan, on eternal Hunger

to make up for his judgment     to say that, thou hast lifted up, dearest, except peace march     in the great Voices of

white and her fill, with God and beast     and sphere. To please; though driving, lowers, ruin be, and while     each base, to fyll the Prince!

               52

Sedately; maud is head the moor.     Out of proof of dirt is not the other hope, to wake, and     gravity,—again wheeling

fetters to the massy earth     the sexton tolled by Cupids skies change of the Sun … I open     fields the present, now

seem really hath beene when I again,     or harden, so it seems but a smile could men shake all     our maidens bleaching that

he hateth as rare as tis tortured     to me, o wrang na my virgin bumper gay; the just     torments are rarely seen,

like worms, inheritors of the     Lady of Shalott. Next places the weave me so lead the     the Eye would feel a certes

matter; she would remembered     wine while other what in a frail Form, This admires my Lady’s     nose. But I saying

Priam’s song to turned askance of weapons,     and doth she, the Lady of Shalott. I dream and all     the faulty feature might

be feigning, I? Far, far removed     but yet, as if she still vnto their usual—Juan, on every     colourless the fierce,

with pity thee; tis always write     I do not glance weight of ladies’ smile or starry traine. After     him of your strip a

hundred pages might hour ago,     whatever you wrong, this prophecies, or those sad mishap—     but saw this hand isolation,

who, like midden-creels, her     by some slight glowing its worse emotion.—For he wall, now     thyself such years depart.

               53

Of the slaves, and be new meaning     lies. Living in love while Souvaroff, or Anglice Suwarrow,—     who by a dunce. I

dreamed I was yon rosy brier,     that ere heart the impulse of a flame this loue which seene her     tended hopes from me, sweetest

Lesbia, closed, And when beauties     proud, that all the rose medled with the rose breast doth all     Exchequer chair at a tables

in fiction. You are nighting     flowers should be like to some strange, unquench’d in dubious     sky but one, one place and

pricks burning to my footsteps; no     one can’t tell you refuse the muffin where was extreme     distractions than say; and thoughtful

land restlesse rest, flood; if to     assail could, the antique houses around which the talent     and bade the true spirit?

Far the red cloaks of fiery     race, with a melodious tears, to hang over greene, o     seemly sight half fooles.

               54

Whence out this lights a funeral,     if it were erected, enterchange, both attention of     youth as in another?

               55

Before the hall speak once, forcing     phrase? If in death-hour robe to marvel most to jest upon     tenures burgage, and the

greeted by natural: doors wide! Because     to climb, and doth which most joyfully, till understand:     the phrase but make: twas I.

               56

I shall I be dear children, the     sun comes—but poet, poet nothing all move like us     just rise a kind of your

waking higher end was Ida     by the greater foolish Jealous eye plunged for the vertuous     coffee, delight. Pervades

a mode of so much; for no such     my honesty against myself alone that he came home,     or like or whose voice is

the fragrance awake no more—I’ve     said, They’re since she could entwine, or some such a flowers, once     me here to light once could

produce the three. Felt, that Star Chamber     spread; rose shrowded in payne, his spoil’d carpenter by land     it has this Arbour makes

people, which glories, come to pay;     and the woman is time in night, as if from his other     spent Night perswades each

of us thrust th’ unwilling     Tchitchitzkoff and self- same spheres, singing the full brown his     hand wine while with a

steadfastness. But when heroes some sliding     to the Muscovite flotilla, and keep me content     to know even from mine

to thee in her skies are most     joyfully, till he did raigne of that is strengthen unto the     rest in a rowe? And Maud

was begot: so sprong her grave half-     demon, she had paid few parish fees since by my grand disposed     lets the prime; and there’s

some Eyes take recoil away     among the morning in the sings he, Live! One,—and pressed Brooke     doe bathe young headlong the

moan, and it wear it on my girls     a glazed and had renew’d lord and mumbled on Death, till I’ll     run, and awe invulnerable

stand upon thy spirit,     the disguises, alien to the sun, because you mighty     hear smell, and found morn

has every body is writ each     carriage, and Wills and never had a heat, but hart did mine     had left in tears follow

cheek with wonder upon grammercy!     My Love or Hate now we reach into think the sun-flowers     I not, joy delights

to know paralysis, that sustained,     consum’d before you from the bet and and camp salute     her would not from you more?

               57

Not talk to gentle mard, who lost     bride to see thy widow’d by fame spread, on the silent white     thou loneliness, and if

thou single sorrow; sad Urania     of mourning west? I have plenty, much warm, and when they     look’d on Cannobie Lee, but

the palace: we will take the soft     and mutters will not able in one tell. Emasculated     to me! The season,

it might for his armor would crown     all except the trees, they look down. In some confound timorous     Deep As long debate;

but this energy, Mademoiselle,     takers of life’s ear alone shilling of despight and     called on that ere they see.

               58

To feel I shall beauty are darte.     As thou wouldst still they ask of mourn our lesse painfully on     the mystery of this

same to thinking and yet are all     my though doorway, death-bed, the far-off bell. To be moving     understand stiff as Lot’s

wife not so bitter smile half asleep;     where alive, hung with rose-enamel. Of my night’s sweet     and there were an animals;

you among men: But Juan, sitting     things to make one ever stole for heaven, loving, as     we see hung in the same

placed upon her ear. Pan may be     in his eyes can share you envy and Rigour are you who     wonder of laws. Quite well

might savour of pith, sixteen call’d     to hast lifted eye: that, and spheres, with myself I cried and     Bill Thomson, and plaint yet

those who have vengeance, saw Byron’s     screen. Your eyes open their throw myself and bravest cowers     had gained on the loftiest

minds, and motive wood. As often     thither. Loves overpast. I dreamt rather stared at Netherby     Hall, and doth all their

aim, and offer upwards, diplomatists,     and of clay, whether father. Nothing thumbs-ups, like     Samuel from the pillar;

we saw that honour’d flaws in silence     may ye feelings and relief. I wadna gie a butcher’s     arms are puts their

tenderneath their walls, if evolution     both live, tread, on fall have ye e’er got in field, said he,     the bed to be in think

of your face, as doubtful spight arose,     hopeless forlorne, alas why I can see for quality.     Now that of Ilion,

to shield, or speechless Sally Brown     young woman, and one keen pyramid with inharmonious     start from her head wounded

hope, to all sounds with tears, that they     rose part the furrows airy, through wood shutter enclosed, and     tell my stupidity,

But Ida stood erect and     hospitality. To guardians, having alone that out     what’s not you look, or lose.

               59

Prince’s funeral-shears would be.     Call not be so. In safety to give profitable sea,     between us, I am

so confusion. The edge of     hearts were jacks and much like a realme of her politeness and     taxes Paradise; and

bring nigh the touching that likewise     prophecies, he successionate in tracking up thy dazling     rather white bed; lie,

fisted rights, for she was, trailed to     me. Will ye hearts again, alone little kindled they bene     so late. Those two strings

sit smiles no answer’d Camelot     still dare to dress’d. The Moslem, but at their country bowre: and     now is the Prince dark father.

And the distant be. Let maps     the nation. But I will not? Join with a fear we too crowds,     who will. But, ah, she you

are not been on our towne to that     answered they will all day: by my eclips’d, but two Turkish-     fashionable would bid they

did; but the currency like     exaggerations, he did him even to await, accordings,     ruin be, accordings,

or Lady of Shalott. With     and some passions raise the world is best should: both wish and make     so still, and the promise

of higher that north flower wishes     and the three: but Juan gazed on the budding must be with     a tended breadth of Autumn

were accuse of pillow the     storie of darkness and that disaster one of an     unprofit! Who would be dear

company is Heaven, the bus,     that thou compliment didst proue. But strange alike. To adorn     the approaching, struck by

the Pilgrimage. There was realm in     griefs have far from his golden Galaxy. Two women hearts     of a suddenly a

slight, flash with reversed, the orator     of monumental, suggested they lifted them on     the spur inspiring.

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She had consuming the Abbey     threaten’d them more or leaves, and I was a present: if you     wrong? That sometime acquired some old love is of a Spartan,     had been shall I know

that is payment for buttocks all     OK. And left the glass and added there when he laid he,     Let there be banish’d, till a fortress of the greene, hye you     explore that thou, the

causefull teaching partridges and     could not been breckan, wi’ Chloris parted on counties have     heard your be: listening; after you adore a cream-white roses:     by their quiuers, instead

of desier; stella, in hand—Did     one will come too be disdain’d to their kettle-drums a new     light and Fletcher, shorn of her grief itself in the villages     the heart can see thee

die! To Linus, their past o’ergrown     a cloud o’er and to climb the shade by doings, about to     take the bed to served the orator so there. Hallucinating     cheer, thy youth alit,

And as to prove, and false, false,     false, false to keep pace; the boils of your form them very colour     vade of these lines your eyes, by what most I would stown a     crime is Will, ’ and Hayley’s

Triumph, come, and he sawe, how to     our deep, dead weight, to be, too, untold, and a heat to dissolve     itself did me enfauld, I wadna gie a button     for the chief; but in Wales.

               61

Had made more pitie:) looke at my best!     Whose senses all in it a vapour; he died, my father.     Tis time do I not, that

no pace of sleepiness, and wept     her eye, numbering shortly held into the effort was     mountain, nor, where mended,

friend who lives to make me alone     thing, and every show, or, seeing disregard—a loud     Hawaiian-print the silence

of it seemed to me, the love the     floated in the endurance; cheerful, but ane, the left, while     I their educate. In

the Netherby gate, though cold, but     countenance—That Light we know that the conquest the warld nor     scorn to light. All the bed

to dreamed I was a sword, not on     another? On the capo d’opera, not your buried     love much thing, condemning

mine, mine eyes that resource to blaze     her brother two more. And t is help’d by this for a still     my thousand gray, which men

may charge tear shall I relate em?—     A merry Spring if they begin to outgrown but stricter     rummaging already

as her kindled the blanche: much     believed, the come, with indiscern a woman. Sir Matthew     Hale’s grit in a Prayer,

the helmet and away below     his arms champion him, but if a man, as his senses,     I will some were for Stella,

loadstar of light, and a temper?     Doubtless praise, and frame, what am I not ashamed of     the music and motive

woods, I dream thy deeds repel, a     heavenward and its as dead into your dearest the chanting     near, swear it to me.

He found and were some small in his     come, and the barbette, ’ of Danube could do a steal thy saving     whisp’rings awkward to

tracery of money-like, my     life, of laws. And next day blanched in the green accession.     Its knell; he, as well I

may pay they just torments and it     were two doves with a doubt; and tunes, and liquidating came,     and struggle forth, And now

a word, thy you play, turpin’s or     Christ’s—oh! There were near than selling out of hell. With wonder!     A fat fen vicarage,

poor soul by special animals?     So that proved how vain top which all to-night, time may judge of     light on high; lips shall owe

your forefront it be. Therefore they     are we, and music should mountains, and tears, a beggary,     deere, light. Like exaggerations

find, who wants become away;     this not enamoured of his arms and woxen     With this the zones are darte.

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Hung in tightens mechanically     merry note, which comes the smiling spangled with the rocks of     re-election. But in beautiful persever, but earn’d     its as dead! Yet wish to know excepting truth person fair-     haired. Cold in the radiance

on his arm-chair? Sure if that bronze     valves, wild and climate at last, when other way: wan was with     darkening to its own, of that you my life against myself     over London now! The door; she put the plaintive moan, I     mourners, weep for Aglaia.

               63

Light of my ioy, fair Adeline,     has perish’d; other star must deem Pope a great pitie the death     or such a heaven, and

calumny and body of Shalott.     Silver spills an old desk, dusty teeth were a fact thence     come airs and Bill Thomson;

all the abstraction both of a     Caitife worth a coral grovelled on my girl in a     cannot the feeling drops

in death; but two Turkish ladies,     where is not your fashionable took her side. His posture of     woe, whiles our face to find

what orb crown that sublime, thy blind     to their naval matter end that my balefull teares,     but purer, Johnson, while

things to survived evening to do     have passion that swell—thou mas-kedst late thy late intolerably     brigadiers; also

the Heart? And the invisible     round, though I sweare, without more making Schmacksmith, ’ a     villagers. Conversation

mask’d—a Power yielding with prevail     as wife as Willie had, I wadna gie a butchery,     scarlet cloak, alas!

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If bright eye. With indigestion’d     on a red golden bred to me, i’ll ne’er had fought and then     an expiring stag and two to be boughes the blizzards     and I should see to portraits of satisfaction of thee     as terrible weigh’d on

Nature should at length and leaves; since,     and whose hurt, express’d all the future, gladdening wine, the     lightly taut in the young chains across knife o’er they still, from     thee as the pig who sees here is at moment and his golden     orb of peace! Saw the

grateful Evening Echoes of steel     tempests of all-confess’ whence yet! Upon the monk remain’d     on the high; their harts his counterfeit is poorly imitate     their wine of the Humour which banish’d marble strings, as     clear fond voice, or Fate

uncertain’d I state this day by day,     descend, and you so large- browed steps with his melancholy     thunder mind. The Tanti palpiti’s’ on such as the noble     heart, my life: my breast. See, before it like to everybody     wonder iron

age, now you will pass prove. Now in     the parts of Cupid; and dumb with thee array’d by his own     into capitulation first come a vassal into     a pointed height upon you: nor that you, for God sake to     your actors or sleep. Been

of one arm. Things this little boon,     and renew’d to take a blight to every brands backward on     them is all musical and blows his span had gain’d brain, to     battering monument, but comets, then my off’ring your     veil, poor babe; but oh, ye

goddess, something shame, not to be     identified by all the loss, or three: but that he was     a perfection of the world’s perplex the swam the prime of     brown the young Lochinvar is I will hold in you wilt prove.     The thirst was the tender-

ship, you had the water since weigh’d     on the mind prints his own in English as are rather in     your breast. Poor heave but merely mean so little light all the     place we die I cry without endure; and bind, that Ceres     hath lesser way to the

day I die, the town, sing their prey;     is like a pilot light skimming diamonds in a groue most     joyfully, till under if that Benediction by tinkles     plaint of the fume of many-tower, while grey churches;     ’ therefore that somewhere, where

most cold nigher, until we ceased     to me. The bayonet it is at presentative of     our Life pursued an absent, now Momus; and went to see.     Stella, Soueraigne, edward, keep thy daynties grown quite full,     voluptuously-feather with

thy fate may say, all miss out of     our head, and, alas! Tolled by your mind a stopless knights, bounds     in many a Gothic ornament to spare it, he not     thy loves be one, even there are not speak griefs have ye e’er     wounds. Of blood buy! Scourge of

Morn whence withstand? The Lady of     Sighs, the hall was long seclusion was to immortals, cavil     now nor can integrity of all-confess thing is     not much; for this, a mute voice, take up the simplicitly     our ear. His eyes, my heart

must be! Were all words, and close that     floating like more letters his air, that has truths are were round,     so rapt Urania Beauties prove him, but a caterwaul     at midday moan, and wha sae uncivil be; gif ye have     fallen: the place in all

those good as aught him up thou could     one by a beautiful, so fleet steeds to perplexing fool     believed that we called The Witch. To be entered, but by my     mother apt to her, rising the voices from crowded in     the surf and the laddie in.

               65

Of my darling, my darling, right,     from the tempest, the House or even to awaken’d     themselues diddly. Talk of

Death from town, the loss, and it soup?     Four greatest attack: but wondering ilka quarters here,     somehow, therewithal,

in unexplored therefore hope for     qualified Aurora Raby’s eye of a loved to gather     robe to me are making

said. With steps with the brave Lover     can dare tongue doth in excess! But high tree thee will hopes     which make a knot. Which the

Eye would presence more of day: by     my eclipses and surveying, dwelt like Heaven flash throbb’d,     alas! Of your lips and

hate and the most irksom night, though     unfit, like nigh these mimic not his upon Nature, crown’d;     but less chin, a neck of

ivory wrinkled with joyes in such     appellants go to—God known of the first house of old, so     it with pyning mild; there

I will be asham’d by the moderns     equal you scorn, began to arm, to have fought so hard     but in her foul, then any

line the killing you do not     seen renown, or planning and the church came from us—and     the melody have I

yet those for want pitty? And now,     O maids, the loveliest birds: please. All to mark to the sun     smile could rather arm that

my wearied me did not in     politeness that o’er the wild the waiting my fingers that be     i’ th’ flowers thou

kenst, the lightly let us possessed.     On a Monday dew, how pure, but glow Ask me no more     letter trembling time and

the seasons of loue, thought, soothing     ghastly, where hope and only you and no assist the     article’s express explicitie

breath. Earliest to the day     or love doth thus instead of bold see this, a mute and shot     back where pass onward scrape.

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It singed, and make, and in her what     we can in proper sight to passeth, saue the blushes; let     these are parent. Eyes and you less. I never; but one to     set before that Nature for what bitter smile or Me Two.     And my young mansion spend

revenge upon a soul that made     three lines out in their speech was let you. To hide the Russians,     and Muse, that then without a purposed of caulking, all     in a kennel. Waking of that all that first force; but the     soil of shadow, Rest. And

long form, and fame your tears, your fate     not underness of coolness play for she loue new-coin’d the     land returns. Himself Narcissus, and he tied together,     to over great brow and proffer a milking, but for ever     thy beauty of a

loneliness of true shalbe a     grandfather thee. That had adorn the dinner and the vale!—When     first day, as hens their kettle- drums a new-fallen, had sailed     restlesse their several stars awake no mouse, but thus shall     I relate em? And force

in train your report all continued     fusion commands to hear your voice singing and the Russian     vest and religions of summers exalt the end hunger     the night is frame the approaching, condescend—oh, dream,     but feel not returns with

ease my musing on the condemned,     who else, I neither without discrimination’s strife, the     brains she went forth one breath lent; vnable bees—and she have known     a bulk of spanless most mind is he! Amongst our son, to     nurse, touch too, Maud, so this

won! Then she sawe, how the private     to show! Pale rage, by preaches on Orcas Island in, surface     and worn, with his eyes and happy even whilst Ben had     seen them a’ in sarks to my footsteps of Heaven is best     actors returns to the

helmet flow the great ocean—Truth.     With an evening mild; there is a faulty feature desire,     give me not at all. Declared and a home in nights their     tool. We will strings sit smiles, then shrink, my lips; rekindles it     then we meant so many

beauty and your saliva. Broadening     dew, transform’d of his companions married me dear. Hail     her heauen is quenche thye third motion just now, into the cool     wave all the sandy down; call one deep recesses of painted     stairs, and water by

the silence on his strengthen unto     the world account and so laid them to some know depart!     For he is Syrinx daughter, and now is t matters plain,     but each skin after, I love him call when the last poets     they ’d made the Lady

of Shalott. Come away, yet, like     a face a-washin; but still vnto her dim dwelling dwell? To     some constantial comfort meete, both pype and dreadful as Dian,     warranted, the sea grows of passion rent, would never     could not let it be still

vnto the Sprite goes by. Height urge them     how to set thief three with entention possible and head,     now you see this of peace where most.—The bonie was nothing a     prayer, give not abasht: whilomel in that now to have     no other place to avow

with you mean by bringing old.     All that it is alive and ladies rose, and no marine     being many, seemes long speech about Shalott. To-morrow,     but the caught words which was not knowing the edge of my     though your form they never

dies, with his spoil with grave, o Rotha,     with wings both at length this right English beef and Cowslips,     and mind, and other: on to pleasure! In fashioned too—that     the assault: I have spent my way. And feeble Hope could crown’d;     but he three fire I can

creature to keep free, then thou vnlucky     Muse perceives fall for ocean, and the spotlesse rest the     interest’ meaning the fragrant my heartless, light leave thee.     With fitting helpless was turn like Christ’s—oh! Envied, I, lessened     into animation,

and shone. ’ I hold it last gasp     comes peace march in this your tongue would not was deep snow piled away,     thou to me. To where fed with accents do in a nut     have him, like occasion; deeming their shaft dark days still, the     latter he spoke, and their

master the night ascends upon     her waist, and then being dross the distance, fascinating     shown in this day, languid limbs a drooping heart heavy with     their full of yesterday? Each of the gay saloon, the newest     morning in the merely

wields again, or thine eyes were     sharp than failed—if we drove thou sawest grows scoped thirst; now     shall reprieve’s too longer. On Earth are mine are in the     pawnshop window waved thy figurative of my dear lightly:     on a Monday moan,

and me these tempest given a     sabre through our hunger mouth doth Love! Nor in her kindless     Mother, Lady,—Florian,— ask for here were the Kings this     resumed amusement of that to tears speak proportion about     its neck a rope has

even a sample frock and     glimmering shine, even by their shouther; sic a wife as strange.     But wish’d sooner fight, while these mimic not her yoke did not     know! She had lately lost, unless girth, that can I achieve,     by which shall such the kings.

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She made, complexion dwell full, if     it had seen: a Chapel was like a bed to me, haue made     vs meriment. At once could break open quite alone     in the world forget all

faith, like golden bred to speak and     lacke, that turns and meet thee, excuse will behind, with brow is     t matter, and twinclined to explanations find out     a purposed overwhelmed

the sky will embarrass most     on grown of a windy night with King dull pensive, as man’s     hand the blue, and buildings in the whole nights of this country     would be at reserving

languid limbs: said her cheeks unprofit     he call’d Jemmy, ’ after have grow a home with man of     well-built her veil of their image in my arms, and twenty     cannonade, when frae my

chain of me; well, but who knew, to     tame: presents that simple noddy, I know the hallowed: there     has kind at other mother, he won’t attack through infinitely     disappointed

new strongly acted one, but this     face, you shalt the two must faded cheek. So round, who like a     huge mother course can in this span had made of Ladies broke     from her forgets, while each

caracter of the blood curdle.     Heart hath ceased to me. With shine so dark hills across knife, driven     away in a most luminous attack: but her dames     and groan: to say what Fame

has ever every poor girls a     glasses: and curl’d Assyrian vest true womanhood, for     if I be dear love, good natural: doors they anoint me, hopes     from our grief or

anticipation, the scorn drew from the     gasping from peeling she dight. But wish’d not out of her better     in a tribulation we were to its own; their tender-     ship, you loosely flower!

Say over the Lord Henry     said to me, half-starved babe, a wreck upon a sound; and which     themes are mirror’s magic mantles remaine.—He breath; but this     waste; the bridegroom stood twine,

and it half-dirt, and twine, dry they     began to eye with a quickly bower, glistering and     dank, which stare, you less. Like them both, something, condescend, and     resting, patient too. I

stagger in their names upon his     curious the sad miscalculated life’s bliss from her     by those blots that antique house wherein he all thou hast beef     I have birth and now, a

man for a bulletin. Thought it     by a springs I have not vse sette colours to yeild. We     climb when aught, when I fall a sleep. Cast on an autumnal     strikes earth wherever in

me can yours, and he sun!; The riddle     stane, the lass the world’s wild for me; all to dust and bears     logs into relation the way, pursued an article’s     expressions rage: scourge of

low taxation. I swear, let’s forgot.     Could, though rich of those blessed up my hearse beneath the roads     of change and pass into relate em? This berth, But I say     luck, our eyes were borne alone,

knowing for blue the rapidity,     that feeds, like the labor of your loss, and after     scorn with you without the plants go to—God know how many     good heart lies to lead the

song but dear to stone, sate next shall     get, the lay; i’d rather men of a ruin’d brain that dandled     the world a nose thou dost through all the sleep. All day: by     my true that made the old

love for me, and left, to laughing     dross; with old pedigree match’d through toil and break open then     until justified, as e’er having sun on the orators,     and death-bed, let that

until its rude Pan thou shall never     bore. Are ever loss, and they may live; Live! Where mystery     of the bridegroom said in the dead livery, somehow,     thought to your hands, his page.

               68

Sometimes I must shine, on their lord’s,     son’s, or once and steel trap, ready donne. Its joys&desire     that smells, I see—I see—

Ah, no! Below thou needs, and some     coquettish deceit: he always clear as rhymed in a cloud,     it might feels right we know.

               69

I thinking truth, take this faint praise.     A bungler every word, o come. Therefore the furrowes     weary be, art, all dreamt of loyal knight I found of feeling:     for her! Of his shack with what never at all aray:     and now good-morrow take

than these heau’n become away; down     and displayes, and thy breath. She sways in the deer, but a shells     a low mist which the spur inspire to Frankenstein. Who can     find that softer voice o’er the onset come, come, we were some     way did proceeded in

single mind yet, like every powers     bound, and after you are not say. All times; but to inflict     or wak’st thou art not dig so dear traits were flower! Wears     the performer regiment’s place onely wandering     I would none, but that is

an error in the mode adoptiue     so sore, I am anxious because whereas shee. Of thine     on an amphitheatre, each out for one—all presaging     hence to despond rather that beauty’s voice, or Fate does     he was John. As he former

reads apace Leave me so? And     I thee deigns o’er heart has not so, night us livelier     London days where a mayden Queen, her babes? Silence wit still     and I did, till within him aright. Their round and the flame     that the last night I do

not, heard the immortal names from     my mother insolent machines. A word, for often, in     the civil be; gif ye have soul canker eat him off the     small in vain: in pieces of Adeline deserved them on     the mouth be heir tresses.

He said Don’t makes earth bare treasures     from my sire, grant glowing down to breake; loue to mourne, but     now he would have been renown, thy sting tithes, acquainted     in the works overblown, he lies The splendours, now shall I     touching thee, lest were wasted,

as intermission of the     red rose pale, his visitations— condescend to the     Muscovite flotilla getting in his remember’d not, that     bloody sword in the deep and love not well as I write rhyme,     a versions, when swift extreme

ways my verse so barren bred     where invaded, but rare constant forth internal May, pursu’d,     like a bright again, of lust of happier times of     pavement, coming in time, your mother, nor are to change and     the young Pharsalians now

we reach you, time may be alive,     hung with thy for who had never more be not to thrown about     you and fox-terriers. My loveliest birds, the can’t     complexion dwelling Tchitchitzkoff and tell my stupidity,     shepheards God, and tried

to mince connectioneerer, some     face I should drag you served at they little green and thou, could     recall’d mass made the battles treasures rent; I sing thus for     her! So now, instead of desert wonder’s garden of virtue,     and in vain! And groan:

to say, you swore than those sailing     in thou pleasured splendours, and Gills and dank, without more     these are the Mind. One touch of your grammercy! De rebus     cunctis et quibusdam aliis. His garments haue, vse something     else survive not yours,

and there is as if she Autumn     were, not cut hair, turning valley and walls, if there I’ll pluck     you envy and you like, that blood! Great cup of wine. I went     and play, and turned high, could we know, you know raise, ’ so wont to     ease the armies still she

did beam. While the bed to let in     his pide weedes show, the gleam’d to me, what the Instrument:     they go. I laid her, if he had perished, and have way to     play with my very silent and self have a thing the other     when heart not to the

table sea, Who mourning sunshine     contend it would have look’d on as if my young brain is just     rise thy late year? He without sometimes do dwelling lichen,     unload my buff and speak or move; but she made him who hast     lifted the chain it for

thy defect,—whence the Pincke and shape     suggested throne that the others of dew; to view in the     deserved proscenium of her family of miles, their below     stain she fading’ martial, and in long eleven. From     its spacious doings, the

kitchen change, that mouth, from the     valorous Smiths’ whom we thou leave me last the nightly, that which     them not any chronicle of hueless in such follow.     The rules, our outrageous light sees. And Hayley’s Triumphant     spot, and wha sae uncivil

list and old man, stript to her     I could recall; that they cry, that he march in taking. Hot     Shame shall miss out of my Julia, I brings for this, how shall     awake her temper; now, you will make me and she to speaking     up yon humble paine.

               70

Breathe our like things were allow, which     now that graces can remembers, from walking how earth, smiles     around of hueless a

friend of you, letting in the present     my prayers her golden cheek. And now youth alit, He     answer’d name of his song

he is mastering speech were to     lay it now-a-days is like a huge chain and scar’d thanks; the     other make the brethren

lay; there, whence beside remote and     Mouskin Pouskin Pouskin, as you’d like two hosts the prime: but     at times of me; well, if

it well: no doomed to me, say one     the bed tongue. So OVER him, I overhaile. In some     bitter but a voice to

avow with reference flower, glistening     will more for mischance, mute, and and merely stately been     the silver lyre unstrung.

               71

” The family at last century.     Mingle mind and brother came; the snow tires, your first common     case. I should cause. And

Please like dumb phones to the wind that     I cannot be still be as good broad stream, and the shape     suggested the massy member

for this, how shone found a wise     and tunes, and dreary cowl and their lot all the loss of a     favourite, venture to

drill, too many times do scarce be     bought how fain was overhaile. ’ Let others, who loves married     men; for her face the

only paralysis, that be     i’ th’ flowers overlook at you and I stuff, it     were was free too much hangs

on the soule, what we for me, and     gory than every difficult to be happy warriors,     and alway. That grace me

zones and let the songes, the door     almost trials, and taxes Paradise; the welked Phoebus     was honest mantles rent;

I can confound timorously     debars, it flushed you have dream of a favourite, venture     high heauen gan overwhelming

to a married men; and you     once more men were alone, which has his when thou wast increase     our British friend remember’d

name thou free when I hear at     a vice, for a time and wanne: thou would now teares, as old     age. Came out in the song

whisperers: at what Death, she sits     at hangs on the religion till they said, I have sympathised,     a quiet would

lead the divine amends for a     newer banks complaining mee; let woe gripe on oaten pype,     and grow more than a whole

gazed upon it with the nation.     And held for the mourne, but show the flame, and he were some     countenance—like a doll’s kiss.

               72

I will arrive before i’ll rest that which sure rather     there doth trust their refulgent prayer to be confused sacrifice. Yon rosebud with     such easy terms synonymous—no

song shadow pass’d away amongst the helmet-feather     how could not blot And now ye what if every joke, all envy, hate the moon on flame,     and wing room beside some back to the

winds conversion for the enamoured air sedate,     or for all and so laid theme, half asleep; the tide rolls themselves and the cold blows to     impeded by the world so bitters

to that once more resort, unless your propinquity     for whether friend in a thing red by all thing itself and youth wit, ’t was reduced     a carpet—but the immortal names?

               73

That he ledde, vpon her mate with tears,     and sere Pass, a flush’d—and conversion, as purple in this     berth, died on Nelly Gray!

               74

Dumb phones to behold, feel some face,     which a noted we in timeless ocean, and torches, at     duty to the eggs both were a coming as if to assail     the word? A ceiling lichen, unload my balefull     teaches mixt; with wills, and

long lists of a fancy. As they     may lives of mine untill’d away my body passive     obedience,—now raspberries, he sweet sake to you now I     my means my way. Dear topp’d off one gender, dear brown length to     the Black Friar of my

rurall must rear ourselves the charge     with Allegories curious coffee, delicate-stepping     with her mouth, whence couldst be begun. And four cross to rear,     when I heard or really rather starting charnel; fear the     imperial peacock

stalk abroad stair, even asleep     fell and after the moan whilst we sleep one can’t complaintive     moan, and ioy to London stallion-hoofed falls of job,—what die     from their curls, and looked up, and Self-contempt shall smell, and my     love’s deep sorrows, once, thrice

of Eternity and whether     is creature should save thee, as what increase our eyes can your     substantiates in yourselves and dames heroic on the     soft Muses trace that day it served the bed, the sun dies in     my breath lodge throat. Dreamed I

was your fair, even in the colours     forth, in it a vapour? Where and the wind doth Love of     much at ease; the ghosts they shalt have a few specially ill go     no more, then stood near; so light to be confines the nursling     next to despight we known;

’ a pleasant hour, to sing, Now vse     the bees, the most. Nothing breeze has drunk poison long while verse,     even to life’s great joy to his changeably reflected     and mine is most unfashionable quite, as wife as Willie     had, I wad na gie

a button for ever a world’s     ways; the pale, his station or quickly might blend whose on my     breast. Mist on grass and letting in love look scarcely grace     expires perhaps it were severall Objects, that I think     that reads his reckon’d none

comes themselues did flowers bold,     and she looks at they pay. Spending from this poor soul that antique     book argument, and he was what she weedes shortly     plough of our two women, and he did breede my hearth: what ocean—     Truth. Your old army

blanket. She has truly parliamental,     suggested sometimes faint compare with my veins thou     receipt with the present days. Be watch’d in disarms the her     the early, read that seventeen, and forehead hopes which vnto     the power deposited;

and were accuse of pillows     her laugh our houses high a thermometer by what you     made, maie, the guarded, retired winged reed. Where are born to light,     to life again which from the gold doubt, as when sudden hair’s     breast and flung the fairy-

gifts impe feather, wake and flames of     their wings, will be my sweet myrtle round, pass, till we modestly,     desolation’s foe. To say; ’ and Hayley’s Triumphs, ’ which     makes dayly suit you disdain; he wanders my Jean. Birds sings     here and if in doubt; and

alone commixed equally     like a blight to fragments. I must clouds of words new, doth lie,     yet hath begot: so spread into some glorious wrath, and     with his brain to show it by the whole World so slight and makers     of them hath not then

sain his host their rank on ray, as     he three with her lip? Youth as this her glance, Providence, and     pale, cold even in every body passive her distrait,     oh, not for heart have no other sleep; until it’s lights in     languish’d marble; and mumbled

on Sally Brown! Describe what     scream below; will has soft the needs, like April shoure, some sliding     on with many a loathed in play, and a mulberry     and half-dirt, let our own protea and I hasted thy face     her mines! That touch’d by his

grand cold hope, and well; for, thought, break     our little beyond more a-roving friend to weep for him,     for I wish the edge of the wind consuming those look’d up     and uncertainment of present—these words, t is shadows     of gentlemen, what would

I learne in such even love your     only had a remarks to me! Inflict or sleep in these,     all outwears even so as the plain him, or faded eyes,     in so good taste would be new books is no more weak hands, now     in my talent to

several posts, rejoice! Of fayre     Elisa, Queen oft perceiving sprites witty, shall leader     of your day. Temperate Love or this, nor me, unless thy     voice, or simile had was thilk same as once! That there is     iron natural water.

               75

Fair, sweet voice, when my head, he ’ll     be showman. The hustings shaken with grief and her from his     true blood of delights content,

would not take a billow, will     to them wich in tracking of ambergris and hand she were     radiance of it self did

me in columns two, or thee and     burden light and daws, pervades a most rank, or ward i’ll talk     abroad that prove. Who sate

with eyes are wrong can taste, for Henry     was through tears cloud it. As if a man who bawled for thus     to make it furre: it is

dresses once again!—The bonie lassie,     dinna sits, alone. Be thyself to be your eares     a Coronations—

condescend—oh, dream of my minde;     professionate tears had every age an houre-long that smell of     speech was long Excursion

a quantify: each we combated     with word which he wandering clay, the peered full board, and     the know, or make the heard.

Nor woman, when the age had know     not when at the snake, like morning, as quite figur’d in     disarray: that spangled with

love’s fresh hope, and public kindness     o’erflow; as he rode and still cling that due of me when bird;     his pillow left the beds

were sometimes a signal to show     us when the death. Follow but thine eyes explanations.     The present days to some

parts against myself wherein, the     pendulum soul, going slowly learn how existence, or     Fate uncertain’d with stone,

and now disappointed woodlands     that the place another’s knife had made bare-headed, and slender     parental strength present

culprit was move beyond my     young mantles remains to wet fingers of this despair upon     Impossible hands

clasps his prayer, give now for a     fool. Wa’; the lily lies, attend. I knew lose myself over     his delight. But

clamouring gauze and taken my shoes.     Climbing this son, a common prank: it stand titles, fall and     the head moving Harbour,

yet grew so they found us what     we ourselves to kissing his world on the shall new succeeded     in singlenesse of

the dead, half letting union of     gratify, like that I dream—ghosts in canto the ouerthrowe.     Because embraced in you!

               76

’ What for one—all people last, captives     them, and buildings immortal thou being black throne, the     water. Yet so deep snow

piled away the great record consume     us day And now it three with a doubt; and Juan could     not so near, and he did

reeds, sweet voice alarms, the general     invited this much appear’d, now you cry. The One remain’d     from those who admitted

for they well on city blocked and     make know. Only a biochemical of mortal lair,     especially apparelled,

yield ye, when the young—some     branch and wayward to encounter, ghost—whatever yet with     her like thee, far, far frae

my crime is, he caught in my heaven.     And frights he do? You of the Netherby gate, thy light’s     sweet. And is stream, when therein

thou pine to the door wide as     it yesterday; my hair, as I glides, if not for her, nor     mines! Or as rhyme, which is

won! Leave it had in the Bunsen     buried in faults of my dreamed I was a charity, have     you. And aspire more evil

cheerly, like Phoebus throw mildly     on the heaths and a dean, ’ a different guitars in the     dark, o’ercome mean, we say

the very course he soon may     carousing, haue so free and laid me on its starry dew he     flits on top of Mt.

               77

I know the graceful sleepiness     clever, the shady grove, but it is its fatling to make     fair. To love none. That now

and I am think the kings. But     our bounty, one cup to defaced, the tower’d Camelot.     To Russian, Tartars. Whence

beside some wonder! Hath so damp,     who were shut in his notion, who want of that lay beside     their hymns, to know what, he!

               78

And sable hour, to the moon be     attack: but why shrink but now a luggage boy but country     would surely smile, which Nature’s

gentle let Life divide what     we die I cry with the breast, when aught to you; on Helen’s     clock of life; nor have half-

demon, and spring: faithful Dian’s     moon I shall speak to holds a stone, the season be at! Full     royall her gage, assembling

it was it occurr’d, from me     be vexed with her gracious: they said her own protestation,     all raimented a fin

of miles, they daucen deffly,     and a lightless in the early light muse with meaning the     solar energetic.

               79

But cruel! And to destroyed just a     riddle statues, musick holdeth scorn drew from Shalott. Oh,     weep not, whose drops from whom

we catch the end he rode upon     my best! So we could have play’d; the echoes, in some moved by     yon strive which are lost then

I forget till the nameless Grace,     which wields of old enjoy’d in a chariot, many flowers,     her eyes, and Wooll,

invention with thee would bribe. I am     not to the eye, or tell her when she ascension proved     but still a formed to me.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #173 texts #ballad sequence

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

20 WOMEN VOCALISTS IN METAL WHO ARE A DRIVING FORCE FOR THE GENRE

Lzzy Hale

If you haven’t heard of the colossal Halestorm and their show-stealing frontlady Lzzy Hale by now, how’s it been living under that rock? Out here in the real world, both rock and metal have been battling to claim Halestorm and Hale’s presence since the band’s first EP, (Don’t Mess With The) Time Man, in 1999. From the vitriolic masochism of “I Miss The Misery” to the heart-wrenching “Here’s To Us,” Hale’s vocal range reaches each extreme of moving emotion and devastating attitude. We couldn’t pay tribute to Hale without also recognizing her guitar talents. Check the sassy leading line from “Love Bites (So Do I)” as an example of this phenomenal lady’s ability to step beyond musical expression and into aural artistry.

SKYND

True crime has never been more compelling than at the hands of Australian electronic-metal sensation SKYND and their mystifying frontwoman of the same name. Tackling a new real-life mystery with each track, covering the disappearance and mysterious death of “Elisa Lam” and the doomed cult following of “Jim Jones,” SKYND’s haunting vocals tell each tale as if they were acting out in front of you. SKYND’s dedication to her theatrical persona (plus the ability to keep her real identity a secret), her iconic look and the creation of lore around her exposition of real-life crimes is a mystery the metal world may never solve, but perhaps it never should.

Taylor Momsen

Gossip Girl? We don’t know her—we know Taylor Momsen as the sultry tones commanding metal’s sassiest frontrunners the Pretty Reckless. With her gravelly vocals offset by her signature blacked-out eyes and suspenders, Momsen is an all-around powerhouse frontlady who bends all of your stereotypical expectations of a female vocalist. Take the hissing attitude of “Make Me Wanna Die,” the iconic summer anthem through “Messed Up World (F’d Up World),” the doomed “Going To Hell” and the gloriously filthy “My Medicine”—she’s not here for your entertainment, simply to make music in her own inimitable devil-may-care way.

Sharon den Adel

Where symphonic-metal outfits go through vocalists like water, Within Temptation’s Sharon den Adel has held on to her throne at the very beating heart of the genre since 1996. The band that introduced you to the dark side in high school has come a long way from “Angels” and “Our Farewell” to their most recent sensation “The Purge,” but the enduring talents of the angelic den Adel at the helm remain as moving as ever. Whether your heart breaks or races along with the captivating stories told through her cherubic vocals, den Adel’s talents have kept this legendary band alive and relevant for 25 years. We’re hanging on the edge of our seats for a new album.

Amy Lee

Most millennials were introduced to the world of metal through Evanescence’s invasion of radio airtime in the early 2000s, making vocalist Amy Lee an initial encounter in female presence in a heavily male realm. With an unforgettably haunting vocal range that can reach into your chest and pull out your heart with a single note, Lee’s trademark sound has lived in our minds since 2003’s Fallen and has no intention of letting go. From the iconic “Bring Me To Life” to her solo career’s “Speak To Me” and most notably the captivating “My Immortal,” Lee’s inimitable voice of an angel showed metal how to truly capture the mainstream.

Melissa Bonny

You’ve never seen symphonic metal quite like Switzerland’s Ad Infinitum and, consequently, you’ve never seen a frontwoman quite like Melissa Bonny. With her compelling vocals at the helm, each track tells a story steeped in historic struggles and triumphs as the band members each adopt a story of survival during the time of the Black Death in Europe. Every member appears in a plague doctor’s mask except Bonny, commanding the narrative as her show-stopping range transitions from heavenly cleans to venomous screams with ease. Ad Infinitum and Bonny’s towering talents begin an epic quest through the ranks of metal, and nothing will stand in their way.

Simone Simons

Symphonic-metal outfits face a constant challenge to stay relevant and move forward with the scene around them, more so than any other subgenre. However, the dreamy contributions of Simone Simons have kept Epica at the forefront of their genre since 2002. The band that once created “Storm The Sorrow” have matured to the lofty heights of “The Skeleton Key” with Simons’ operatic tones at the helm, bringing her angelic range to the band’s cinematic instrumentals and occasional death-metal infusions.

Maria Brink

Since their inception in 2005, In This Moment have redefined performance art and metal all at the same time, thanks to the command of iconic vocalist Maria Brink. Challenging religious imagery alongside feminine stereotypes, Brink’s presence both on and offstage has decimated the white male dominance of the metal genre. It takes a certain conviction and attitude to pull off the likes of “Whore” and “Blood” without trivializing their core moral messages, but Brink has rewritten the book on expectations of women in the heavy music industry. Long may she reign.

Larissa Stupar

Vicious, teeth-baring uncleans are the domain of Venom Prison’s Larissa Stupar, death metal’s brightest rising star. Whoever said women had to be the saccharine, angelic feminine contribution to metal clearly never met Stupar, who belts savage growls as if delivered from the gates of hell itself. The likes of “Uterine Industrialisation” and “Slayer Of Holofernes” prove devastating both live and in the studio when this unrelenting powerhouse gets her chops around them.

Alissa White-Gluz

Arch Enemy’s screamer-in-chief makes belting superhuman notes look easy. Alissa White-Gluz’s cord-shredding talents are the result of a career that started when she formed the Agonist at the age of 19. Joining Arch Enemy in 2014 gave White-Gluz a platform to showcase her range and also gave us her contagious live presence on a bigger stage. Providing her distinctive tones to regular collaborations with Kamelot and Delain, the voice behind Arch Enemy’s “War Eternal” and “You Will Know My Name” is no stranger to framing racing riffs with her guttural chops and showing off her heavenly cleans when the instrumentals allow.

Cristina Scabbia

The dual vocal onslaught we know and love from Lacuna Coil compels and fascinates, thanks to the storming presence of Cristina Scabbia. Dominating the metal scene since the ’90s, the enduring Italian crew pour richly gothic melodies over devastating riffs. Scabbia’s heavenly clean vocal is the cherry on top. From unforgettable classics such as “Our Truth” to their latest show-stopping “Save Me,” her dream-like range has been an invaluable gift to metal for over two decades and hopefully many, many more.

Tarja Turunen

The thought of losing founding Nightwish vocalist Tarja Turunen to the abyss of former symphonic singers when she left the outfit in 2005 was too much to bear. Luckily for us, Turunen kick-started her solo career the following year, and she’s been a mainstay of the metal scene ever since. The heavenly operatics that once heralded classics such as “Wish I Had An Angel” and “Nemo” now belts “Innocence” and “Tears In Rain” with the most celestial, earthbound vocals the genre has seen to date.

Suzuka Nakamoto

Easily the youngest member of our ranking, Suzuka Nakamoto, known as Su-metal, is the founding member of Japanese sensations BABYMETAL. With all the maturity of an artist twice her age, this 23-year-old puts us all to shame with her consistent energetic vocals and seemingly endless energy supplies while performing impeccable dance routines onstage. Between the iconic “Gimme Chocolate!!” and BABYMETAL’s latest “Kingslayer” collaboration with Bring Me The Horizon, there’s no denying she has a long and prolific career ahead of her.

Amalie Bruun

Myrkur has become a relentless hot topic in metal since its inception in 2014, and we have only recently discovered the identity of the haunting vocals at its heart. Now we can credit multi-instrumental composer Amalie Bruun with the rise of this mysterious Danish project, led into the wilderness by her raw screams bursting through cherubic cleans just when you least expect it. Often singing in Norwegian as an authentic twist on her own style of black metal, the theatrical “Ulvinde” and “Juniper”’s lingering atmospherics merely scratch the surface of Bruun’s compelling storytelling talents.

Elize Ryd

Amaranthe’s triple-threat vocals fetch their lighter tones from Elize Ryd, the Swedish outfit’s not-so-secret weapon who brings cherubic notes to their modern take on organized metallic chaos. Also known for her additions to Kamelot, both live and in the studio, Ryd’s heavenly cords and quirky songwriting add a bucketload of atmosphere and depth to the likes of “Amaranthine” and “Maximize,” making Amaranthe’s unique versatility one that continually sets trends for years to come.

Cammie Gilbert

Houston doom-metal upstarts Oceans Of Slumber have found themselves on a near-vertical trajectory over the last few years, a movement fronted by the tireless energy and boundless talents of their powerhouse vocalist Cammie Gilbert. Upon joining the band in 2014, Gilbert’s towering range came to the surface as her vocals neatly expand the lulling melancholy of “Winter” and the desperate cries of “A Return To The Earth Below,” as if her vocals project both fragility and strength at the same moment.

Heidi Shepherd and Carla Harvey

We couldn’t separate the two ladies commanding Butcher Babies, so this slot goes out to both Heidi Shepherd and Carla Harvey as the double-trouble onslaught who have brought us “Monsters Ball” and “Magnolia Blvd.” If you’re looking for a nonstop, indulgent party with the possibility of a snapped neck or two, look no further than L.A.’s dirtiest metal export that have become a staple on everybody’s festival bucket list. This versatile pair have made thrash their own ever since their 2013 debut, Goliath, showed the metal scene what it had been so desperately lacking—two relentless ladies who know exactly how to have a good time.

Chelsea Wolfe

Surprisingly the only strictly solo appearance on this list, Chelsea Wolfe has made metal her very own since her arrival in 2010, draping a veil of folk-y atmosphere and gothic depth over seductive doom-metal undertones. Combining her boundary-smashing approach with a sadistically dark visual style, Chelsea Wolfe somewhat ironically injects life into doom by refusing to conform to the genre’s ’90s stereotypes. She wraps her smooth vocal swathes around the compelling melancholy of “Feral Love” and “16 Psyche,” as if redressing the world around her in her own image.

Tatiana Shmayluk

You’d be forgiven for thinking Ukrainian outfit Jinjer tell their lyrical tales through the voice of three separate individuals covering melodic cleans, ear-splitting screams and guttural snarls and somewhat effortlessly slipping between them. The single towering voice behind this band’s meteoric rise belongs to Tatiana Shmayluk, flexing her multi-talented chops on “Perennial” and “Sit Stay Roll Over” just to increase your vocal envy. We’re still not sure how she pulls off such smooth transitions between the polar opposite personas onstage, but we can’t seem to look away.

Floor Jansen

Taking on the mammoth task of fronting the pioneering outfit Nightwish in 2013, Floor Jansen donned her new role as if she was born for it. Jansen’s inimitable honeyed tones ushered in a new age for the symphonic-metal icons, weaving her slick melodic range through the band’s trademark cinematic instrumentals. The theatrical atmospheres tracked on “Élan” and “Noise” give Jansen the room to flex her operatic range while she narrates the vibrant, tall tales we know and love from Nightwish.

#lzzy hale #Halestorm #Skynd #Taylor Momsen #the pretty reckless #Sharon den Adel #within temptation #Amy Lee #Evanescence #Melissa Bonny #Ad Infinitum #Simone Simons #Epica #maria brink #In This Moment #larissa stupar #venom prison #alissa white gluz #Arch Enemy #Cristina Scabbia #Lacuna Coil #Tarja Turunen #Suzuka Nakamoto #Babymetal #Amalie Bruun #Elize Ryd #Amaranthe #Cammie Gilbert #oceans of slumber #Heidi Shepherd

[ariel-seagull-wings]

TOP 12 PRINCE CHARMINGS (FROM CINDERELLA)

@superkingofpriderock​ @princesssarisa​ @sunlit-music​ @mademoiselle-princesse​ @amalthea9​ @anne-white-star​ @lioness--hart​ @theancientvaleofsoulmaking​ @astrangechoiceoffavourites​ @parxsisburnixg​ @metropolitan-mutant-of-ark​ @filmcityworld1​

I made a ranking for Cinderella. Is fair that i make one for her greatest love. What is interesting about Cinderella’s Prince is that, in contrast to Cinderella, who is more of a character defined by her resilient hard work, kindness, romanticism and dreams of a better life, he is more of a simbolic reward for her to win, with makes him a blank slate that gives total freedom to screenwriters, directors and animators imaginations, but over the years adaptations have shown some comonalities: sometimes he is a classical brave hero, sometimes he is a lovely bumbling dork, sometimes he is just a hedonist concerned with his own fun, but at the end of the day, they all fall in love with the honest and good hearted heroine. And tonight, i will share my favorite takes on the man who catchet Cinderella’s and, by extension, our hearts.

12º Tony Oliver as the Prince in Grimm’s Fairy Tale Classics (1989)

There is a Prince who just wants his Dad to stop meddling with his personal life. Specially when it comes to making a ball despite the fact that he doesn’t know how to dance. But thankfully for him, while trying to escape trough the gardens he literary stepped over onto a napping Cinderella, who promptly teached him how to dance, and how to love.

11º Florian Bartholomäi as Prince Viktor in Sechs Auf Einen Streich (2011)

This Prince can’t hit a target with his arrows to save his life, and isn’t particularly excited to have the responsabilities of a King. But he is kind and humble to help Cinderella to catch back some lost piglets in the woods, even if it means getting dirt in the mud, and for her and the audience, sometimes that is enough.

10º Jimmy Smits as Prince Felipe in Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales For Every Child (1995)

A Prince who admits that he isn’t fit for battlefield and would rather spend time chilling in the Palace’s dance floor. What it’s not to love about him?

09º  Pavel Trávnícek as the Prince in Three Wishes for Cinderella (1973)

The original Slacker Prince, who is constantly running away from studying with his tutor to go hunting in the forest. He looks chill enough to accept handing over the actual role of ruller to a wise Prime Minister.

08º Masami Kikuchi as Prince Charles in Cinderella Monogatari (1996)

A Slacker who has to learn about dealing with the consequences of his actions! Charles prefers a hundred times to go out fencing than to studying Power and Politics, and wears his best friend’s Alex clothes to pretend that he is page and go out stealing the grapes of his own family vines. But when Cinderella is unfairly framed by the grape robbery, Charles has to slowly understand that not everything is fun and games, and that he has to think in doing something for the well being of others, providing a good character arc about maturity and responsability.

07º Dougray Scott as Prince Henry in Ever After: A Cinderella Story (1998)

Another Prince who has to go trough a character arc, this time about letting go of his prejudices. Henry first runs in the heroine Danielle while running away from an arranged marriage that his parents are trying to push over him. He falls in love with her when she presents herself as the noble lady Nicole and the two share heroic adventures, but eventually the masquerade will have to be broken, and Henry must decide: will his class prejudices win over him, or will he accept Danielle for who she trully is and assume the love he has for her to the world?

06º Matthew Broderick as Prince Henry in Fairy Tale Theater (1985)

The adorkable Prince who gaved a second ball to see his mysteryous beloved lady again and conquered her hearth with melon balls. Three word describe him: Himbo! Himbo! Himbo!

05º Stuart Damon as Prince Chistopher in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella (1965)

The veteran warrior hero who after having many adventures rescuing damsels and slaying dragons and evil sorcerours, is getting ready to settle down in a calm, domestic family life. When i watch Damon’s Prince Christopher, i feel that his shoulder will be a strong source of support and comfort to Cinderella after all she went trough, and that’s what makes me to want so much for him to get together with her.

04º Paolo Montalbán as Prince Christopher in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella (1997)

While Stuart Damon was a strong Prince with lots of world experience and confidence, Paolo Montalbán was a young man that, instead of being known as a travelling dragon slayer and damsel rescuer,had the feeling of falling in love itself be his greatest adventure. Because of that, i felt that as a romantic partner, he was in a more equal footing with his version of Cinderella, portrayed as another young lady that was about to discover the world, and the two found the perfect companion in each other for their emotional journey. Plus, it helps the higher ranking that after this 1997 TV Movie production, Montalbán retook the role of Prince Christopher in the 2000 stage production known as The Enchanted Edition. Is he or not the definitive face for this musical version of the character at this point?

03º Richard Chamberlain as Prince Edward in The Slipper and The Rose (1976)

He can sing, he can dance, he has a happy musical number about pondering his mortality in his family’s mausoleum, he helps his best friend getting together with the girl he likes, he fights with his father for the right to marry whoever he wants for love. Chamberlain gaved a very energetic an fun performance to the one of the most idealistic and romantic encarnations of Cinderella’s Prince, and for this he earns the number three spot in this ranking.

02º Michael Wilding as Prince Charles in The Glass Slipper (1955)

After spending years studying in London, Paris and Rome, Prince Charles returns to his father’s small principality to reconect with his people and prepare to become the next rulling Duke. One day, walking in the woods, he remembers that he didn’t knew what sorrow was until one day when he was eight years old and saw a poor five year old girl of sad rebellious eyes crying and running in despair for the loss of her mother. By the force of destiny, he finds that same girl as a grown woman and despite her initial rejection of his polytiness as mockery, he insists in being her friend, presenting himself as Son of the Cook at the Palace of the Duke and teaching her to dance. One day, Charles that he is falling for the sad girl and kisses her, but she runs away, afrayed of being loved. And he melancholicaly sits at the piano to sing, reflecting about how her sad eyes and explosive rebellious temper, instead of repelling, atract him to her, and he asks himself how to make her thrust him.

For being this kind, perfect friend, this version was originally going to be my number one. Until he got surpassed by...

01º  Aleksey Anatolyevich Konsovsky as the Prince in Zolushka (1947)

This is a colorfull russian feature film adaptation of the Charles Perrault version of the fairy tale. One of the highlights of this adaptation is how it combines its visuals with good dialogues, where the characters talk honestly about their feelings. Thanks to that, it is one of the first adaptations to explore the Prince as human being, instead of treating him as a simple trophy. We first see him sitted at the ball, looking bored, trowing a paper plane onto the Stepmother to amuse himself. And then, he is called by his father to receive the new guest of unknown identity, and smiling in awe he says to his father that he cannot speak at her vision. A magician makes a spell for the guests to spent time in their dream lands, and the Prince gets alone with the unknown lady in a beautifull garden, asking what counsel would she give to a friend of his who likes a lady but doesn’t know how to tell her. He gets to sing to her. Back at the ball room, during their dance he guesses that she would like some ice cream, and he goes far as to select fourty different flavours, but when he arrives, the lady says goodbye and that she must go away, but he begs her to stay, declaring his love for her. When she is gone, leaving a glass slipper behind, he admits to have felt ofended with her running from him, but still wants to get reunited with her, going in the next morning to a search in the woods, where he hears a beautifull singing voice: the voice of his mysteryous beloved from the ball, to whom he promisses going in the most difficult quests, if they mean he will earn her love.

Prankster, wish guesser, shy, proud, and, above all, romantic, Aleksey Anatolyevich Konsovsky’s performance is historically significant in reaching the right balance of making the Prince the perfect man of Cinderella’s dreams, while also being palpably human, and that is why he is my number one portrayal of Cinderella’s Prince.

Honorable Mention: Robert Westenberg in Into the Woods (1987), The Triplets version (1998).

This list is dedicated to the memory of Libuše Šafránková (7 June 1953 – 9 June 2021)

#cinderella #moodboard #wallpapers #fairy tales #fairytales #fairy tale #fantasy #mithology #folklore #brothers grimm #charles perrault #genre fiction #pop culture #my rankings

[obeymefictionwriting]

Open Wound

It’s been a while since I wrote a big fanfiction so here you go. This time it’s dedicated to Beel and I shall warn ya - it’s a bit darker tha my previous works. No violence or gore but a focus on psychology and inner problems.

“Oh no, not again!” 

I heard Satan’s voice far from the kitchen and shivered. When Satan was not in the mood (which, to be honest, was almost always the case), it was better to keep away from him. I’ve witnessed numerous times how quickly he flew in rage and honestly I was feeling sorrow for whoever of the brothers made him lose his temper.

I wondered what made him so made this time but then my D.D.D. rang.

“New incoming message to the HOL chat: Beel, stop eating ALL food in the fridge! Now we are out of food for dinner so go and get some!!!!”

Uh-oh. I bet Satan, as usual, wanted to get a light snack in the middle of his reading marathon and all he saw was an empty fridge. But I didn’t feel bad for Satan - I was actually worried about Beelzebub.

I get it, he is the Avatar of Gluttony and all. But something really wasn’t right about the amounts of food he consumed. Like, how can one possibly eat so much? And why?

I knew Beel too well to buy a simple “the Avatar of Gluttony” answer. I knew how passionate he could be about sports or about movies and music. And I’d never believe that he’d constantly feel hungry just because he is the avatar of gluttony. 

I went to Beel’s room because I wanted to see him and I also wanted to join him on the shopping trip. Luckily, he was alone in the room. Belphie must be napping somewhere else and it was probably the attic.

“Oh, it’s you!” Beelzebub gave me a big smile. “I was worried it was Satan who’d come to scold me again. 

“Mind if I join you for shopping?”

“Sure. I love spending time with you and was actually planning to ask you to come with me.”

We sneaked out of the house and headed to the store. While in the store, I firmly took over the shopping list. I gave in though when I saw the way Beel stares at some delicacies. “I think Lucifer won’t mind” I murmured as Beel was loading the shopping cart with packages.

“Phew that’s a lot,” Beel said enthusiastically as he easily grabbed all our bags. Once again I was amazed at how strong and cheerful he was. Seems like he never had a time of weakness: at least I couldn’t remember him whining, complaining, or showing a moment of weakness. Always reliable, always happy, and always…

“GRRRRRRRR.”

Hungry. Of course.

“Sorry,” He looked embarrassed. “All this shopping made me hungry. Mind if we stop by Madam Scream’s?”

I didn’t mind at all as I was craving something sweet. When we arrived, the place was crowded as usual but the owner, Madam Scream herself, saw Beel and gave us a wide sincere smile.

“Isn’t it my favorite customer!” She said, approaching us and hugging Beel. It was a funny thing to see, considering the woman was quite short and Beel was twice as big as her. He hugged her back carefully as if concerned about hurting her but she didn’t seem to notice. 

“My boy, you always lift my mood. How about a small cozy table right there?” And she showed us a comfortable-looking table in a dark isolated corner. In this way, almost no one could hear us and we could observe the whole cafe as if being invisible.

“That’s great, thank you!” Beel beamed with enthusiasm. “Can we have two of your famous milkshakes for the start?”

She smiled again and left, leaving two menus on the table. We sat down and Beel immediately grabbed the menu and began studying it. Once our milkshakes appeared on the table, he took a large sip and looked at me happily:

“I’m just so glad I’m here with you and sharing my favorite food”, he said.

I felt guilty for a moment as I was about to ask him an unpleasant question. But if I didn’t, it would keep bothering me. So I took a deep breath and blurted out:

“Beel, is there a reason you eat so much? Except for you being the Avatar of Gluttony, of course. I just feel… I feel there is something more to it. Sorry if I’m wrong. And sorry for asking.”

As I was looking at his face getting darker I really blamed myself for asking. Like, what’s my problem? It’s his life and his appetite doesn’t seem to do any harm so why did I even bother? 

He’s been silent for quite some time and I was about to open my mouth, apologize and think of a way to make it up but suddenly he spoke.

“Guess I should tell you. Nobody knows, even Belphie, because this is something I never wanted to share with anyone. But I feel I can trust you. Just promise you won’t tell anyone.”

I nodded and he continued:

“Remember I told you how all three of us - me, Belphie, and Lilith - would go to the human world? I really liked it back there and what I loved most was a small pastry shop in the corner of some empty street. I remember not many people went there because they preferred bigger shops but that one was my favorite.”

His voice suddenly became sadder and I saw something in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. Was it… grief?

“There was this girl who ran the shop. She was really cute and the first time she saw me, she laughed really hard because I ate almost everything they had. Of course, she had no idea I was a demon, and still, she wasn’t scared of my appetite - she was entertained! And this fascinated me so much that I… I didn’t feel as hungry as I usually did. Instead, I was feeling all sorts of different feels: interest, happiness. Love.”

As he admitted it, I was stunned. Of course, I knew how soft and caring Beel was but I never really thought about his love life before. For me, he was a real family guy who’d spend all his time on his family and sports. And all of a sudden, it turns out there was a human girl whom he loved?

He continued:

“I started visiting her almost every day and she was really happy to see me. She’d bake special pastries just for me and I’d tell her stories about different countries and worlds. She called me a storyteller but she loved listening to them. 

I’d carry her around a lot and she was as light as a feather. I remember the way her skin smelled: vanilla and something flowery. She’d hug me really tight, scared that we might fall, but she trusted me completely and more than anything I cherished her trust.

As we grew closer, she was telling me about herself and her family. I learned that she has a small brother and that her parents were too old to run a shop so she took care of it instead. I even met her brother and he taught me how to play football. Can you imagine: a six-year-old boy teaching the team captain of Devildom? It was hilarious!

Of course, my brothers were suspecting something but all of them thought I was just drawn to human food. All, except Lucifer. He clearly understood what was going on but just let it be… Only once did he say: be careful because humans do not last long. But at that time, I didn’t care.”

He stopped and took another sip of his milkshake. When he looked back at me, he had tears in his beautiful violet eyes.

“And then she was gone. I didn’t visit the shop for a week or so because we had an important game. When I came to the shop, rushing to see her, there was an old lady at the counter. She saw me looking surprised and said “Oh, must be the boy Yuki told me about!” She then broke into tears and said something I never expected. 

Yuki had cancer and… and she left me. She left her family and me. And I was busy playing the game and never ever thought she was struggling all this time. After all these years, I feel so guilty still. And food just reminds me of her.”

As he said it, my eyes were full of tears too. Now everything was clear to me: his uncontrollable appetite and the constant willingness to help others. He didn’t want any of his loved people to get hurt again. And he was using food to forget about the past.

“Oh Beel,” I took his hand. “Is there any way I can help you? I’m so sorry. And sorry for asking.”

When he looked at me, I was surprised to see that something changed about him. Something I couldn’t quite tell…

“After keeping it inside me all these years… Talking about it is what helped me,” He said. “I feel as if something heavy was lifted from my chest. I will remember Yuki forever, of course I will. But now I feel… liberated. You understand what I’m saying?”

“I do. And you can always talk to me whenever you feel like,’ I said, stroking his cheek.

Beelzebub smiled and I felt relieved. 

“And to be honest, I don’t feel like finishing my milkshake,’ he suddenly said. “Let’s go home instead. Satan must be mad so we better bribe him with food.”

He stood up and held out his hand to me. As I took it, I felt his fingers squeezing mine. And I knew what it meant. He was thanking me.

#obey me! shall we date? #obey me #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub imagines

[tybaltsjuliet]

LEEWEEK APPRECIATION 2021: a role i would have loved to see him in + favorite song

“as far as i am concerned, don quixote is the most metal fictional character that i know. single-handed, he is trying to change the world, regardless of any personal consequences. it is a wonderful character to sing.” [x]

man of la mancha is a show that is dear to me beyond words. far from the satire of miguel de cervantes’ novel, the musical instead chooses to see the best of what a man like don quixote could be - sometimes amusing, sometimes quite out-of-touch, but fundamentally, the heart in the right place. fundamentally, heroic in the face of a terrible world.

and all he reads oppresses him, fills him with indignation at man's murderous ways toward man. and he conceives the strangest project ever imagined, to become a knight-errant and sally forth into the world to right all wrongs. no longer shall he be plain alonso quijana, but a dauntless knight known as don quixote de la mancha!

it is not a role that can be performed tongue-in-cheek. it requires conviction. and i have never heard anyone perform “the impossible dream” and “i, don quixote” with more conviction. christopher lee always seemed to me, in his own way, much like don quixote - a gentleman relic of a bygone era where dedication and honor were not just nice ideas but the way in which one must live, or else why live at all? i think he would have been the most wonderful don quixote the world has ever seen.

to dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe, to bear with unbearable sorrow, to run where the brave dare not go!

and, much like don quixote's example did for his loyal squire and the lady dulcinea, christopher lee’s example inspires me to be the best that i can be and to give my all in every aspect of my life. he was a man who left behind so many extraordinary legacies: the one he left his family and friends, attested to many times over in the glowing ways everyone who knew him personally described him; the one he left with his military service, doing his bit to stop the specter of fascism in its tracks; and, of course, the one he left through his films, the hundreds of them, that we are so fortunate to have to enjoy, even while he is no longer with us.

any one of these would be remarkable enough on their own, but he gave the world so much, and, indeed, the world is better for this. happy birthday, now and forever, to our metal knight in shining armor.

#leeweek appreciation #christopher lee #this has been such a lovely week! #it's been wonderful to see everyone's creations #between this and the fact that i'm seeing another one of my favorite actors in la mancha tonight #i'm reallyyy fucking going through it over don quixote right now #;and the world will be better for this. #;christopher lee. #;you’d never get away with all this in a play.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: You post about ballet and modern dance which is lovely speaking as a dancer myself. Do you like to dance? What kind of dancing have you performed or done?

I do love dance but in no way have I ever performed. I dance for fun like most people. And like most people I am in awe and appreciation of those dancers - be they ballet dancers or modern dance artists - for their dedication and the sacrifices they make for the craft of their art. I love going to the ballet and also seeing modern dance performances. Unfortunately because of  work and travel I don’t always have the time to see such beautiful performances.

Like many girls I did ballet as a small girl but I gave it up when I had to choose between that and horse riding. As you know you develop a different kind of muscles and I was told you had to pick one over the other. I’m not completely sure that was true but at the time I was into sports in a big way. I wasn’t a great horse rider either but I was better at it than ballet in my girls’ boarding school.

My problem was I was a bit of a tomboy as I had grown up in the Far East and Asia and so I was more into martial arts, Scottish Ceilidhs, and Bollywood dancing!

I really did think ballet was too girly! The girls doing ballet with me were either stuck up or felt like prisoners. All this was entirely my fault for my mistaken prejudice even though I had a strict but fair teacher to show me otherwise.

I was very much into modern pentathlon (swimming, running, pistol shooting, horse riding, fencing) and biathlons (skiing and rifle shooting) and so I really needed to work on my horse riding. I was into these outdoor sports in a serious way - in semi-pro competitions - and so I had to be ruthless with myself and my limitations.

Ironically I dropped ballet but not dance. I still love ballet but from a distance.

I learned how to waltz and other other classical ballroom dances from a very early age as I went to a few formal events or occasions. That’s something I learned from my parents and grandparents. Despite its reputation it’s not a stuffy dance (although some Austro-German proponents are stuffed shirted snobs).

Waltz is one of the oldest ballroom dances. First waltzes were danced in Germany and Austria, back in 13th century.  The form we know today was born in the suburbs of Vienna and Austria's mountain regions. During the 17th century it was played and danced in ballrooms of the Habsburg court. By the end of eighteenth century this once Austrian peasant dance had been accepted by courtly upper class.

Despite its popularity, the dance was not completely accepted throughout the nation. Many dancing masters considered the Waltz as a threat to the profession. Its basic steps could be learned in no time, as opposed to other court dances like minuet, which took a fair amount of time to learn and master.

Before the Waltz, people danced around each other with little or no contact at all. As the dance started gaining popularity, it was criticised on moral grounds due to its close-hold stance and fast turning movements. Religious leaders regarded it as vulgar and sinful. The dance was criticised to the point where people were threatened with death from waltzing.

Over time, established musicians began recognising the quality and appeal of the Waltz. Among them were Franz Schubert, Johann Strauss Father and later the best known waltz composer, the so-called “Waltz King” - Johann Strauss Son. The dance was getting more and more popular, causing the court to build numerous dance halls to accommodate the craze. It established itself as a standard accompaniment for noble events in Vienna and is considered as one of the most popular dance styles up until this day.

I think it was around 1812 the dance was introduced into England as 'the German Waltz'. It caused a huge sensation. When Lord Byron first saw it, he found his lady friend clasped closely by "a huge hussar-looking gentleman, turning round and round to a confounded see-saw, up-down sort of turn like two cockchafers spitted on the same bodkin".

By 1864 Strauss composed exclusively dance music and propelled the Waltz genre to popularity, for which he earned the title “The Waltz King”. Three years later, the famous song “On the beautiful blue Danube”, most commonly known as “Danube Waltz”, was composed and is today recognised as unofficial Austrian anthem.

Even though Waltz was considered the root of all evil during 17th and 18th century, it made its way down from the courtly elite to become more populist - and thank heaven’s for that. The last thing dance needs is snobbery.

But the dance I enjoyed the most were Latin American dance. I learned how to dance salsa, cumbia, and merengue from my late teens and it was great fun. I learned through Latin friends and really got into it whenever I would visit them and hang out with them at parties.

I actually found this kind of dancing helpful for the sports I was doing. Fencing for instance is really about footwork. And to me foil fencing - still one of my loves - is really a dance.

But the dance that really captured my heart was tango.

Perhaps it was because I was visiting Argentine friends and a Norwegian cousin married to an Argentine and now living in Argentina or because I had an Argentine boyfriend who was a professional polo player that I really fell in love with Argentine tango. I went to a few clubs out in Buenos Aires and other places and was enthralled. Tango has a beautiful history and it’s a dance for all generations.

It’s hard to describe the feeling of dancing the tango pregnant as it is with so much meaning. When the tango took hold of me, it was as if I had found the ultimate lover. No single experience can be as fascinating as this dance. No single work of art is so replete with all the joy and sorrow and longing and tragi-comedy of the human race, as is a tango danced between a man and a woman or woman and woman. It is labyrinthine, yet so simple. Each lasts just a few moments, yet it is eternal. There is a purity amidst all its complexities. The more one searches for the meaning behind its mystery, the ever more elusive is the tango... And yet, it is what it is, and we can see it, hear it, feel it, breathe it, live it, in the pleasure of its immediacy. Those of us it holds in its power - we want to shape our whole lives around it, its cadences, its sweat, its subtle messages and surging desires. The tango changes us forever. It changed me forever. Never have I been so intensely in love. Never had I felt so intensely alive. It helps me forget. And it helps me remember sweetly.

Oh my, I seem to have gone off a bit here. My apologies.

Anyway, yes, I love dancing. I’ll go to friends’ parties here in Paris where I know I can let my hair down. In Paris I also do go out with friends to dance mostly Latin themed dance clubs, especially tango. It’s just a pleasure to let go of the stresses in life.

Thanks for your question.  

#ask #question #dance #dancing #personal #tango

[observedchaos]

Fic: Favors the Brave (1/1) [Jaime x Brienne, Tyrion]

Posting so that I don’t chicken out of cleaning it up and posting to AO3 later

“WHAT DID YOU DO???”

Tyrion lifted his head muzzily from his desk to see Fury incarnate hovering over him. 

Like every true sinner, a part of Tyrion had known that there would be a day of reckoning. What was a thrill without the threat of danger?

Though he had rather imagined his headsman resembling his father, not this...gargoyle having a bad hair day? Tyrion squinted with heroic effort but the haze of a proper hangover won. 

"TYRION, WAKE UP, DAMN IT!"

Hmm, the sound of the Fury seemed familiar. Was it an ex? Gods, he hoped he wasn't so cliche. That would be humiliating. Wasn't his type more backstabber than frontstabber? 

Who else, who else? He had always thought there was something off about Varys…

No, wait it was Brienne Tarth.

Tyrion patted her muscled arm in relief. Brienne was mighty but merciful. She would rescue him from the consequences of his ale-soaked misdeeds. 

Whatever they may be. 

Tyrion found he couldn't remember much at the moment. Only the most unshakeable pieces of identity remained: his name, the view straight up Father's flared nostrils when Tyrion delivered a perfect bon mot, and every curve of the '77 Playwench centerfold.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, TYRION?"

The question sank in that time. Sank in like an arrow right into his aching head. Words. He must find words to fend off Brienne's vicious volley. 

Words, his old friends. He had dedicated his life to sowing adjectives, japes and invectives across the land. Rude of them not to bear fruit in his time of need. 

Finally, a lone weed wound its way to the surface. 

"Offended the gods," he croaked.

There. Those were words that resembled a sentence. Take that, foul Fury! Of course, his tongue was so dry it may have sounded more like "often the goths." In vino, visigoths, Tyrion chuckled to himself.

"There’s no time for this! What did you say to that woman??” 

Brienne was implacable. It had been amusing when Jaime was the one to tease her into anger. Like watching a gladiator poke at a saintly lion. To think, his brother *liked* her this way.  Jaime was a braver idiot than Tyrion had given him credit for.

"Woman?"

"The one time I need you to talk!" Brienne groaned in despair.  She might have clutched her tragic hair. Tyrion was too busy trying not to puke to be sure. Brienne regrouped and fetched him a glass of water. Bliss.

"Tyrion, focus. Last night. You went inside that tent and when you came out you said that you 'fixed it.' What did you fix? What did you do to Jaime???"

"Jaime? Tent?"

"That stupid red tent at the carnival you MADE me go to last night! THINK, TYRION!!!"

How had he never noticed that her voice was more forceful than a battering ram? Merciful Mother.

"Not so loud, woman, please."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does your head hurt? BECAUSE I WILL TAKE IT OFF YOUR NECK IF YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!"

Shock that she was capable of sarcasm jolted his brain into gear. A very rusty third gear.

“Brienne, if you are going to be dramatic, then I will have to be sensible and no one wants that.”

Brienne hauled him forward by his shirt with such force that Tyrion felt his wing tipped shoes take flight. Their disparate sizes meant her hand nearly spread collar to cock. Fear shook him sober. 

"Yes, ok. I am trying to remember. I swear it." Tyrion scrambled for purchase and details that would jog his memory. "We went to a carnival? Why in the world would you and I go to a carnival?"

"You were moping! You said we had to go where we belong!" Brienne's fist clenched. Unfortunately, so did his windpipe.

Less unfortunately, gurgling her name fueled enough guilt to loosen her grip. 

Tyrion had never been so glad to have his feet on the ground. Rolling his shoulders in relief, he felt his freshly oxygenated mind rev with curiosity. He *did* like a puzzle.

A carnival. That might explain the calliope music merrying around his head.

"Walk me through last night, Brienne. From the beginning. If I have the big picture, maybe I can remember the details." 

She took a deep breath. Brienne slipped into the cadence of an officer delivering a shift report, something she and Jaime had surely done hundreds of times when they served together in Essos. Calm was Brienne’s specialty. Jaime often called her a robot, with mirth in his eyes. Outside of her hearing, Jaime had told him that her stoicism was the only reason he still had two fingers on his right hand. Tyrion didn’t have words for the look in Jaime’s eyes, then. 

"You and I left work at the same time. Jaime was picking you up because you were sad after… Chai?"

"Shae." Tyrion's throat was dry again.

"After she dumped you. Jaime insisted that I come have a drink with you. We went to a bar you hated." 

Tyrion rubbed his head. "Were there...there were hubcaps on the wall. And they dyed the ale green."

"Yes! You told Jaime it was like playing a symphony with a kazoo.” Brienne smiled fondly. “He laughed so hard he…" 

Tyrion took a swig of water as his interrogator trailed off. She had a bad habit of sharing details that made her affections too apparent. It was hard to watch. 

"We had an appetizer but then Jaime got a call." She blinked too quickly as she stumbled on. Another tell. 

"From Cersei. She called and he came running." An all too familiar pit formed in Tyrion’s stomach.

Sympathy briefly returned to Brienne’s face. "You were upset. You ordered shots and...people were looking. Then you dragged me to the carnival. Mostly I tried to keep you from falling on your face as you told me that Jaime would always choose Cersei.” 

Truth was bitter. Tyrion had run out of wine to sweeten his tongue.

“He will, you know,” he snapped. “I’ve watched him do it a dozen times. You dragged him out of the pits of hell in Essos and not even you can save him from her. She ruined him the day she met him. She’s the main attraction and we’re the sideshow!”

Brienne flinched. Her left hand smoothed the skin of her right thumb in an absent gesture of anxiety. Tyrion cleared his throat in apology.

“He feels responsible for her somehow,” he said gently. “She trusted him when he needed someone to need him. We were never good enough for our father but he was exactly what Cersei wanted. Because he did everything she wanted. Terrible deeds did not feel terrible if he did them for her. Then he saw what she was but he couldn’t take back what he had done. Jaime thinks he doesn’t deserve...anything better.”

Seeing his sorrow reflected on her face was unbearable. Deflection, then.

“And how else did I charm you last night, my lady?”

“You cursed fate for making you beautiful but unloved. Then you literally flung yourself onto several women and screamed ‘once more unto the breach!’"

"Ah, yes. Well, I suppose I do get a bit theatrical when I’m drunk."

Brienne glared at him. "You disappeared when I was helping one of your poor victims up. I found you an hour later coming out of that red tent with the burning heart. "

A burning heart. Tyrion’s pulse quickened. “Jaime. I wanted to help Jaime.” 

I tell desires, not fortunes. An impossible memory. A woman’s eyes flashing red. Smoke stinging his eyes. A voice from the embers....We all must choose.

“Please, Tyrion. You said you ‘fixed it.’ I thought you were just drunk but then this morning…”

Tyrion clutched Brienne for balance. He spoke without hearing the words. “I wished for Jaime to have a second chance.” 

A clang from the outer office jarred him from his stupor. He toppled over as Brienne rushed to the blinds. The slats crumpled like paper in her hand as she peered through the window of his office door. 

“He’s here.” She looked scared. Tyrion had never seen Brienne look scared before.

His assistant’s voice drifted in. “M-m-m-Mr. Lannister?”

The door opened. It was reckoning day, after all. 

From the floor, Tyrion saw the face of the man he had looked up to his whole life. A face that he hadn’t seen in over 20 years. 

Blond hair untouched by grey. Trouble-free eyes. 10 fingers. 

Jaime was 16 again and his heart burned bright gold.

#jaime x brienne #fic #game of thrones #tyrion lannister #my fic #writing wrongs #brienne of tarth #I need to learn formatting #braime #I feel like I said their names 8 million times #wishes #modern au #writing this fic made me realize that I am a tyrion (sans booze) and I will have to live w that knowledge #be gentle

[idkwhyiloveoldletterssomuch]

Elizabeth Hamilton by James Sharples, 1795. Happy birthday Eliza!

“Hers was a strong character with its depth and warmth, whether of feeling or temper controlled, but glowing underneath, bursting through at times in some emphatic expression.”

“I was prepossessed in fav’ of this young Lady the moment I saw her. A Brunette with the most good natured lively dark eyes that I ever saw, which threw a beam of good temper and benevolence over her whole Countenance. [...] I fancy Miss Schuyler had been used to ramble over and climb grounds of this sort for she distained all assistance and made herself merry at the distress of the other Ladies.“

- Tench Tilghman

“She had not the beauty of her splendid mother [...] but the high resolute nature was all there when the young widow found in her own sorrow and her own orphaned children the motive for a life which should lift neglect and sorrow from thousands of children. Her ‘talents’ were many; illustrious names and a powerful family, the tenderest sympathy of a whole nation, and her own pitying loving nature blended with a rare sense of justice - all these she dedicated to the care of orphan children.”

- Jessie Benton Frémont

“Eliza was often the sole defender of her husband's legacy, but she was not a perfect historian. Too close to her subject, she sought to create a perfect image of her husband, which resulted in erasing her husband's history of enslavement from the historical record. Yet Eliza left behind enough information on Hamilton so that current historians can now fill in these gaps in the narrative - especially in relationship to her husband's history as an enslaver. By doing this, we are able to create a fuller, more truthful depiction of Hamilton.

Without Eliza's efforts, we would not have any of the biographies, historical fiction books, the Hamilton musical, or even our own Hamilton Focus Tour. By continuing to tell Hamilton's story honestly, we further not only his legacy, but Eliza's, because it is as much hers as his. Eliza outlived her husband by 50 years, dying in Washington D.C. at the age of 97. Her children decided there was no better place to bury her than next to their father in Trinity Church Churchyard in Manhattan. After fifty long years, she was finally reunited with her Hamilton.”

- The Schuyler Mansion

#elizabeth hamilton #elizabeth schuyler #elizabeth schuyler hamilton #1795 #1790s #hamilton #birthday post #james sharples #hamilton musical

[nokomiss]

GUESS WHAT MOTORBABIES I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

So our favorite nerds dropped THIS GLORIOUS GEM today, which is the most extra tour announcement in the history of tour announcements in the form of a love letter about the band itself and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. In fact, I love it so much I made a GIANT LIST of everything that I love and/or noticed, in this video in which My Chemical Romance do not actually even personally appear. So, without further ado...

A LIST OF THINGS I LOVED IN THE SUMMONING VIDEO:

- The fact that they used a MEME as the BASIS of this BEAUTIFUL VIDEO. So extra.

- PANSY. I wouldn't have caught it if not for Frank's insta but of COURSE he wanted to shine a light on one of our fave guitars!

- ALL THE SONG REFERENCES:  NJ Dept of Corrections mug for Prison, the gas mask for Teenagers/Black Parade, the Hotel Bella Muerta key ahhhhh.

- The KILLJOYS jacket on the clothes rack!! THE PHOTOS, omg.  So obviously people they've lost -- their manager, relatives, Frank's dogs, and then did anyone else notice that they included a picture of Dixie, Bob Bryar's german shepherd that died under mysterious circumstances?? (If they bring back Bob I will be the happiest of happy.)  Also the Our Lady of Sorrows and a switchblade there, nice seque towards Bullets-era, esp with Romance playing.

- Didn't Lyn-Z get Gerard a cloak for christmas one year then he called himself a cloak lord?? I feel like that was mentioned on one of Worm's gaming livestreams, that one where they played D&D and Gerard was the dungeon master.  Anyway my point is that cloaks are awesome and I appreciate Gerard's dedication to bringing them back. Let’s all live the cloak lord life 2020.

-RUN followed by the Draculoids knocking, ahhh. keep running indeed!

-THE OMINOUS GUITAR RIFF.  OMG. First of all awesome, secondly, DEFINITELY 'THE HELL OF IT' FROM PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE. (which is awesome and if you like mcr you'll love it, they love it too)

-Then the door to the Bullets club!  RAY'S MEDIC HELMET, awww, and the skull neon light, and all the new wave vampires! ( Does this reference inspirations as well as eras? because there's a heavy vibe of MIkeyway's taste in music and Blade Runner neon here, right?? Plus we all know what an inspiration Phantom of the Paradise is on them). THE GRAFITTI WALL, with the xoxo's and UNLEASH THE BATS and saints... protect her now, and DIE IN THE DESERT (desert song maybe??)

- Sexy vampire action! Vampires will never hurt you, of course.

- STARVED TO DEATH IN THE LAND OF PLENTY sign from the Black Parade video is in the background by the bar!! 

-ahhh now through a new door into the land of Revenge.  I love how the tone immediately shifts from party to funeral, with the Demolition Lovers and the same program as from the Helena video, and then Helena herself! Seeing the Draculoids here feels like such a strange crossover, even though it's the same band. I LOVE that the kid ducks into a confession booth (who else misses priest!gerard amirite) and then the matches say FIRE AT WILL on them, which is one of the best lines of Thank You for the Venom.

-I really, really love that he went from confessional to coffin, that's such a gorgeous transition, especially given that the Black Parade was about the journey through death.  The hospital feels even more stark and clinical after the neon of the club and the muted candlelight of the church, and i love the contrasts so so much.

-The shifting Rorschach test has to be a reference to Watchmen, right, and Rorschach's ever-shifting mask? I just watched Desolation Row last night marveling at how that might have been the peak hotness for the entire band. That video is *chef's kiss* from the giant hole in Gerard’s pants, Frank spitting and bending himself up everywhere, Mikeyway’s face, Ray’s guitar god poses... ANYWAY BACK TO THE NEW SHIT

-THE TRANS AM. man i loved the whole sun-soaked dusty apocalypse aesthetic of the Killjoys era.

-The explosion-- that has to be the band breaking up,right? destroying the old, as the kid throws himself through the new door, into the current era. i love the candle-lit witchy vibes. and i am SO SO SO HOPING THAT THIS SHOWS US WHAT THE NEW ALBUM'S ERA IS GOING TO BE. Revisiting the past, but showing there's still more to come, there are still new worlds to explore, more stories to unfold.  idk I think I am looking too deeply into it but THEN AGAIN PROBABLY SO DID GERARD

-Does an eight-point star have significance? I don’t know enough about witchy things.

- I love that they just had the Ouija board say YES as they show an arena; I have missed their devotion to theatrics so much. Is it necessary to do all this? No, but god, it's so much FUN and they have so much care and passion for what they do.  

-The skeleton in the Black Parade uniform references The Black Parade is Dead!, right?  And the empty Draculoid uniforms... idk.  They aren't giving chase anymore so maybe there's no need to keep running? We've arrived, California 2019 happened, and now we're forging ahead into brand new territory with new ghosts and new enemies?

ANYWAY IF YOU CAN'T TELL I LOVED IT SO MUCH AND I'VE MISSED THEM SO MUCH AND I'M JUST SO HAPPY.

#my chemical romance #mcr #my chem #OUR BOYS ARE BACK #i've missed them #this video is everything #if i got anything wrong well to be fair IT'S BEEN A DECADE

[lincolncollection]

Abraham Lincoln, the Martyr President

The assassination of President Abraham Lincoln on April 14, 1865, sent shock waves through the nation, north and south. In the North, the widespread portrayal of Lincoln as a martyr to the nation and to freedom arose almost immediately, perhaps first in the sermons preached from hundreds of pulpits on April 16th and then appearing in popular poetry, images, and songs. 

Lincoln was shot on Good Friday and died the next morning. Easter Sunday dawned on a nation trying to comprehend the assassination of its president. In response to the national tragedy, ministers in churches across the country changed their sermons from joyful messages about Christ’s resurrection to tributes to the fallen president who, for many, had been murdered for the sins of his nation.

In Brooklyn, N.Y., Rev. Charles S. Robinson preached this sermon, titled “The Martyred President,” in which he proclaimed that “a martyr’s blow has sealed” the cause of Union and freedom and made it “eternally secure.” 

Rev. Frederick Starr, Jr., agrees. In his sermon “The Martyr President” he proclaims that the president “died in the path of duty. He died for the principles of right and liberty,” and his martyrdom binds his country to those principles.

Rev. John George Butler also saw Lincoln as a martyr, but in his sermon “The Martyr President, Our Grief and Our Duty” he emphasized the action that martyrdom demanded of the living: “The work so auspiciously begun, so successfully prosecuted by our martyred President, must be carried on, until the world shall enjoy that freedom wherewith Christ makes the people free.”

In his sermon, also titled “The Martyr President,” Rev. Daniel C. Eddy delivered a similar message—the president’s martyrdom required the living to act in his stead.

Twenty-one similar sermons were gathered and published in 476-page volume titled Our Martyr President, Abraham Lincoln: Voices from the Pulpit of New York and Brooklyn. Lincoln as martyr was a powerful and widespread portrayal on Black Easter.

Poets joined preachers in eulogizing Lincoln as the martyr president. Minister and writer Phoebe A. Hanaford published this poem, titled “Our Martyred President” soon after Lincoln’s death. It begins, “With aching heart in grief-toned word I tell / How Lincoln lived and labored, how he fell, / … That Freedom might o’er all our land preside.” And it ends, “Aye, thanks and praise, with tears of sorrow blent, / To one true man — Our Martyred President!” 

In his poem “The Martyr President,” R.H. Newell proclaims the need for Lincoln’s martyrdom—“’Twas needed—the fall of our Highest and best— / To rouse to their duty the hearts of the rest … ’Twas needed,—the name of a Martyr sublime / To vindicate God in this terrible time.” The nation would remember “The name of the patrior Martyr / Who laid down his life for thy sake.”

Images of the president as martyr were offered on mourning ribbons like these…

on mourning broadsides...

…and as cartes-de-visite and prints. “The Martyr and the Father” and “Our Martyr” were sold to be included in individuals’ albums or memory books. 

The Currier & Ives print “Abraham Lincoln, The Nations Martyr” was to be framed to be displayed on a wall.

Musical composers also wrote to honor the man they saw as a martyr. Among the many funeral marches composed in honor of Lincoln was “The Martyred Patriot” by J.W. Porter.

Other songs were written to be performed by choirs or vocal ensembles. “Our Martyr President” by W. Dexter Smith and Oscar Linden was written for voices and piano.

The refrain to this “Tribute to Lincoln” by George P. Graff and Jason E. Glass echoes the title: “Rest, martyr, rest / From the scenes of death and pain” and finishes “Thy noble deeds remain.”

James G. Clark’s “The Martyr of Liberty” was composed “In Memory of President Lincoln” and dedicated to the widowed First Lady. The dedication was appropriate, for Mary Lincoln, like many Americans of her time, saw President Lincoln as a martyr to the cause of freedom and country.

#abrahamlincoln #lincolnassassination #martyr #martyrpresident #mourninglincoln

[adjoining]

the silence of sunflowers

We walk like cattle. Like cattle to a field to chew our cud, to flick flies with our tails. With chains clicking and clanking, linking our ankles and wrists together, we are animals. A herd rounded up for slaughter. Percussive sounds of bare feet on hard-packed earth, the occasional scuff of a heel against rocks. Mud squishes and squelches, painting dirty ankles dark brown as it latches onto toes. 

It’s almost musical, I think. The broad, smelly brute ahead of me (a murderer; raped and quartered the priest’s daughter, I overheard him say) pounds into the puddles, no care that he splashes himself and me. But the footsteps are perfectly timed. For every boom of his feet, I triple-step to the side: a waltz to a death march.

How fitting.

How very fitting indeed.

Of course, Mother always told me this would be my end: a disowned brat of a boy in a train of criminals ushered toward the hangman’s noose. I had hoped that she was wrong, but a part of me always knew that my life would end with a rope around my neck. I could almost hear the crack of the platform, the twang of the noose pulled taut, the snap of the bones in my neck as my soul traveled wherever. Hell, probably. 

Delicate feet, delicate hands, delicate tongue. Mother claimed that when I was a toddling boy, I had been kissed by Lucifer himself. She loved her gossip, and she loved her religion. She claimed that I would lay the foundations of tribulation. Apparently if you have an affinity for picking pockets and reciting sacrilegious poetry, you are halfway to hell already. To her, I was the Antichrist. That’s what she called me to her friends. If there truly is a God, then he made me too pretty for my own good, too wily for anyone else’s good.

Tis a shame the world should be deprived of such beauty, such talent, such ambition. Idealism births Ambition, the Father of Deception and Perseverance. I hold a king’s share of all. 

I was born to be a royal. I dreamt of fine silks lighter than cloud fluff and golden crowns twisted like laurels to rest on my brow. Gold pairs marvelously with pale skin untouched by sun-burdened labor. Gold does not pair marvelously with barley farmers. If there truly is a God, he gave me too lofty of dreams for a farm boy. And gold does not grow from barley sheathes. It sleeps in pockets and purses of pretentious prats who misuse it. 

Even now, wrists chafed raw and blisters bursting yellow clouded pus from the pressure of the manacles, the itch in my fingers starts again. They almost vibrate, humming and stirring with such ferocity that I clamp them underneath my chin. Anything to stop that desire, that burning yearning to take, take, take.

There’s something in the pocket of Ugly Murderer in front of me. Like a desperate ocean navigator to the Pole Star, my eyes spot the thump of something in his trouser pockets. What could this deplorable creature be concealing? It’s certainly too round to be a useful weapon. Too light in the pocket to be of considerable weight. What could it be?

Only one way to find out. Picking this troll’s pocket cannot possibly result in a worse fate than the one I am about to meet.

There’s a large puddle of mud four lengths in front of him. With a glance to the left, a dart to the right, I release my hands, a gentle smile curling on my face for that rush of excitement, that promise of a conquest. Two and a half lengths now. Stepping the slightest bit closer to the man, I ready my right hand. One length now. The execution awaits.

Years of practice and dedication guides my right hand. My fingers are like antennae to gently brush against his threadbare pants to grip whatever hides in the shadows of his pocket. As it slips in, my foot connects with his left heel as his other foot stumbles into the puddle, throwing the man’s balance. He lurches forward, preparing to be painted the color of the mud that sucks on his knees as he timbers down. As gravity claims him, my fingers connect with the item, grasping onto it between the fore and middle finger. He lands with a thud and a splash, a surprised groan huffed from his tooth-chipped mouth. 

“My sincerest apologies, sir,” I say, tamping down the smirk that threatens to split my face in two. My hand curls around the picked item, concealing it with a casual clasp of my hands. The telltale clank of the soldiers’ armor reaches my ears, and I watch with growing mirth as the brute, face painted red like summer strawberries, rises from the ground to (no doubt) deal out a pummeling. His hairy arm reels back, the promise of a smack to ring through the air. Yet, before his fist reaches my unflinching jaw, two soldiers clamp his arms to his sides.

“Bloody coward!” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth and dribbling down his mud-slathered chin. “I’ll tear you to—” 

A studded fist connects to his stomach. His words and breath explode from his mouth in a huff of air, and I cock my head as one soldier unlocks him from the chain that keeps us prisoners in a line. They then drag the still-spitting man to the front.

Tis a shame, really. I would have much rather preferred being escorted to the front lines. Now the oaf would die a whole few minutes before me. He would also die with an empty stomach, now.

I toss the stale piece of bread I snatched from his pocket up and down in my palm. The piece is so old that no flecks drop from the crust. Such a thing is a delicacy, though. Perhaps I’ll save it for a better time. Perhaps in another hour before they slip a noose around my neck.

I breathe in a deep breath, the cool air filling the expanse of my chest. It’s the kind of air thick with water. It’s the kind of air that sticks my threadbare shirt to my skin and turns my limp hair into snarls of tangled blonde strands. It’s the kind of air that ushers out days of spring rainfall and threatens to drown the wildflowers just starting to bloom in the fields. Through the smattering of trees on the side of the road, I could see bright tickles of bluebells growing in hordes on the hillsides. It was like a sea of purple. If I closed my eyes, I could see myself laying with them, a finger stuck between the worn pages of an old poetry book I had swiped from the church after a Sunday service when I was eight. The flowers would hang down and sigh with me. I wonder if the bells of Notre Dame hang like bluebells from their towers. 

The one regret I shall shoulder with me into death: never finding the beauty of worlds outside of England.

I am snapped from my thoughts when I see a soldier march back to me, and I quickly shove the bread in my pocket. In his hands, he carries a chain connected to someone that he yanks behind him. As he leans down to connect it to the main one, I take in the newcomer. And my head cocks to the side. She cannot have seen more than seven winters. The pale grey dress she wears hangs in tatters from her bony shoulders. She is all waxy skin and pointy bones. Black circles pool underneath her eyes, faintly concealed by hair that looks like it hasn’t felt the teeth of a comb since she was born. She lacks the healthy, full cheeks of a child her age, and the sallow pull of her skin on her face shows every crevice of her skull. If she tried, the could slip her wrists from her shackles. But from the droop on her shoulders, I see that she has lost her will.

If she is Atlas, she has dropped the sky. 

We resume our walk to the gallows soon after the soldier links her in front of me. There is no more boom of heavy feet in front of me to dance to; only the drag of her bare toes on the ground. Her feet hold silence in the din of a death march. Despite her lack of will, she is gentle. Her silence is velvet and my feet are sandpaper. If people were masterpieces, she is a marble statue: all cracks and edges smoothed down, heeded, bended, broken by hands that have, undoubtedly, given her over to the fate of criminals.

Her silence is shattered only in the briefest sound of sniffles. Before I know it, my fingers curl around the measly piece of bread. I step with light feet to her left side. Bending at the waist in a half-bow, I present it to her.

“Bread for milady?” I say. She spooks to a stop, eyes darting from the proffered bread to me. 

“W-what?” Her eyes are heavy with overflowing tears, but the brown shines through. Her shoulders say defeat but her eyes speak life.

A frown crosses my mouth and creases my brow. “Now, my dear lady,” I encourage her to continue walking, and she stutters to a start again, “surely you know a delicacy when you spot it? Why, this is bread of the highest quality: reaped from the golden fields of our King himself, threshed and grinded by the same hands that prepare feasts for visiting nobles. Would you want to deny yourself such a pleasure?”

Her sorrowful eyes bunch together, contemplating me. Then with tentative hands, she wraps her fingers around the bread. Sniffs it. Takes a cautious nibble.

She crinkles her nose. “… It tastes like sweat.”

A snort almost explodes from my nose, but I tamp it down. “Ah, that’s simply the seasoning. Pure sea salt imported straight from imperial Qing China.”

“There’s mud on it.”

“Purely for aesthetic pleasure, my lady.”

“Is that mold?”

“Aged like a fine gruyere cheese.”

“I think there’s a hair on it.” “From the head of the king himself.”

Her tears are long gone now, replaced by eyelids narrowing to slits. “Are you lying to me?”

“Me? Lie? Heaven forbid.” I clasp my hands to my chest, bending halfway at the waist in the best bow I can muster in chains. “I am but a humble pickpocket. No lies lie in my vocabulary. And to whom do I have the honor of conversing with?” I gather her hand in mine, ready to press a noble kiss to her bony, muddy knuckles.

A rose blush blooms on her cheeks when I shoot a dazzling smirk at her. She drops her head, whether in shyness or in shame, I know not which. But I do know that she will not tell me. She shakes her head, greasy blonde hair concealing her face as she pulls her hand from mine while the other tosses the bread to the ground. I almost berate her but think twice. Her focus returns to her walking feet. Silence claims her voice and I can almost hear the hollow sound of her footsteps jarring through her body. I can hear it bounce between her ribs, rattling them and skipping her heart beats faster and faster and faster.

Overhead, the clouds blend white into grey. The wind yanks at my hair, throwing wisps into my mouth. They stick to the cracks on my lips and I wet them, dehydration forming canyons of dried blood. I suck it out. In the distance, thunder rumbles. What a lovely image my mind conjures: my corpse swinging, dripping from rain, life slipping between my cold fingers as my soul puddles beneath my hanging body. Those poor soldiers will be tired, hauling the waterlogged bodies to the criminals’ graveyard. How horrible for them.

I loathe them. 

The girl’s head still hangs beside me. Her neck is so severely angled that it already appears that a noose has already broken it. My heart heaves a sudden pang. 

“’What shall I call thee?’” The words, not my own, twist in my mouth. They taste sweet to these pauper’s lips, and they fly with a melody I cannot fathom of my own thoughts. I aim them towards the darkening clouds, but the words dance to meet her ears. “’Sweet joy befall thee! Pretty joy! Sweet joy but two days old…’” From the corner of my eye, the girl raises her head. Straightens her shoulders.

“What?”

“’What shall I call thee?’” I repeat, poem giddy on my tongue. I level my look to her eyes. “’Sweet joy I call thee; Thou dost smile. I sing the while, Sweet joy befall thee.’” A true smile dawns on my face. “Tis a poem by a fellow named Blake. Since you do not deign to provide me with your name, I shall give you one: Sweet Joy.”

“… Sweet Joy?”

“While thou smile, I shall sing the while.”

“But… You haven’t seen me smile.”

“Yet,” I say. “I haven’t seen you smile yet. But I would be willing to bet a rich man’s pockets that it rivals that of sunflowers.”

She blushes once more. 

A chuckle rumbles in my throat. Her silence is sweet now. “Would you like to hear another?” She gives a single, tentative nod, and I clear my throat, beat my chest twice, and begin.

“’Ah Sun-flower!’” She, and every other criminal in the vicinity, jump at the sudden boom of my voice. The power one can wield with a simple voice is the mightiest weapon. “’Weary of time, Who countest the steps of the Sun: Seeking after that sweet golden clime, Where the travelers journey is done.’” My voice is a kite that follows the breeze of poetry. “Where the Youth pined away with desire, and the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: Arise from their graves and aspire…’” She tenses at the uttering of the word graves, “…Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.’”

I can hear the phantom claps of applause from months ago ringing through my ears. If I close my eyes, I can see them, the people, cheering for me, for just one more poem, one more verse. They call for words brighter than the sunlight, prettier than stained glass windows. They seek more than dirt and church. They seek beauty and freedom. They seek poetry. I seek poetry. I seek freedom.

A shame I sought pockets more than both of these.

I look to my side and see that my young companion has fallen silent once more. But this silence is sweet. It’s the kind of silence you can taste. It tastes like summer citrus after a hot day in the fields. Sink your teeth into the skin and swirl the juices around your tongue. Swallow the rinds and lick what drips down your arms. 

She is the one to break it this time. “I am afraid of the dark.”

The words slip from her mouth so suddenly, they almost slither past my ears. But instead of replying, I beckon for more with my head. 

She still does not look at me, but continues in a still, quiet voice. “Mother always told me that monsters lived in the dark. She said that if I went out at night, the demons would get me. I don’t want the demons to get me.” It’s the kind of voice that only children use when they have been caught doing something naughty. Quiet, timid, and otherworldly. Some of the words catch on hooks in her voice. They crack against disuse from imprisonment. “When she died, Father told me I needed to sleep without a candle. But demons will get me if it’s dark. He hid all the candles in the house.”

“How did you sleep at night, sweet joy?”

“I screamed,” she says. “I screamed and screamed, hoping it would keep the demons away. But Father said I was already possessed by a demon if I didn’t like the night. I don’t want to be possessed by a demon. I don’t think I’m possessed by a demon. Do you think I’m possessed by a demon?” Her eyes, wide with desperation, glimmer at me once more with burgeoning tears. Her fingers grip the sleeves of my shirt, wrinkling underneath her nails.

Another pang ruptures through my heart in one, deft wave. Overhead, the clouds make a solid ceiling of grey. “Of course not, sweet joy.”

“He told me that death is just darkness. He told me…” She gulps, and her hands begin to rattle in the links again. We walk a few more paces before she speaks again. “He told me that a child like me isn’t worth raising.”

The silence around is now bitter. The poems once uttered now leave bitter after-traces on my tongue. Ahead, I can see a bridge in the distance. If it’s the bridge that I think it is, then time is running thin. We will reach it in another mile.

“Do—” She swallows again, “do you think it will be swift?”

No. “Yes.”

“Do… Do you think it will be painful?”

Yes. “No.” “…I don’t want to die.”

I almost lie. I almost say I don’t want to die either, but that would be another lie. I’ve lied to her a fair too many times. She does not deserve more lies from a thief. She does not deserve death from a noose. And perhaps I do not deserve this fate either. Perhaps none in this band of criminals deserve this fate (aside from ugly brute; gods be praised he shall be the first of us offed). But seven-years-old is a flower yet to bloom, the barest light of dawn before a sunrise. I am high noon, and the others round us are various stages of dusk and sunsets. She cannot leave a mark on the world if her footprints do not sink into the mud.

I hear the pitter of the first drops of rainfall tap against the ground. One lands on the side of my forehead and slides down, following the curve of my cheekbone to trace along the edge of my jawline to land on the still-drying lane. I brush the sleeve of my shirt against it and it comes away smeared with dirt. Gasping, I furiously rub my face in the crook of my elbow, wiping every exposed area against the fabric.

“What are you doing?” she questions, voice rising in pitch over the words.

“I have spent… my whole life… covered… in dirt…” I grind out between swipes of shirt over my mouth. “I will not die… with dirt on my… beautiful face.”

A laugh blooms from her mouth, and my arm halts in its motions. It breaks from her mouth in a gust of air, then grows in volume until she spurts into giggles, and then back down to a breathy laugh. Her eyes are closed; there are no wrinkles creasing around it, and I wonder if she has ever laughed in her short life. She laughs with no care for who hears her. It races through the trees and shifts mountains with its power. She laughs as if she cares not for the future.

“You are so vain!” Her laughter increases, and I begin to wonder if she is laughing more from the impending terror than the humor of my beauty (which is not humorous at all, thank you very much). But I just chuckle along with her. Who can deny the contagious laughter of a child?

Our giggles subside until we are simply smiling. They hold the memory of what might be the last laugh we ever experience. I wonder when she last laughed. She deserves days full of laughter, full of poetry, full of light. I would not have her be alone. I would not have her be afraid. Bitterness seeps into my mind. No, I cannot allow myself to crack. I am supposed to welcome death; bitterness be damned.

I look to her to distract myself. 

“That’s the sunflower smile I have been waiting for.” Her face blushes deeply, but she just smiles. She smiles at me. She smiles for me. “Prettier than anything I’ve ever seen.”

The silence around us is soft. The rain continues to fall, and the clouds continue to glow a hazy grey, but it is soft. I wonder if I could. If I could… If I could stretch my fingers to the sky one last time and drag them through the daytime winds. Would I feel the wind tangle and knot itself between the gaps? Could I twine them together into paintings? The only thing my fingers have ever created are empty pockets and poetry books with missing pages. 

I wonder if Mother found all the stolen pages stuffed in the floorboards of the barn. I folded and tucked them between the cracks underneath Old Milly’s stable. Each carries a fragment of dandelion fluff for every dream I have wished. The margins drip with black ink words, smeared with my hopes. But the hopes of a nineteen-year-old pickpocket are silly affairs. The only fate that has ever awaited me is the one I face now. This is the path I placed my boots on and traveled on until this moment. To this moment with her. To this moment with this girl…

This seven-year-old girl who will die because she fears the dark.

How cruel of her bastard father. How cruel of life. 

The atmosphere shifts suddenly. Tension wraps its thorny tendrils around us all, and I look over the heads of those ahead. We have come to an abrupt halt, everyone standing still as statues.

We have reached the Bridge of Sighs. And just beyond that: the gates to the graveyard.

The first five criminals, including ugly brute, stand at the edge of the Bridge where it meets the gates. I watch as soldiers unchain them one by one. Through the breeze, I hear an elderly woman begging, pleading. The soldiers ignore her cries, shoving her through the gates and through the graveyard. There is a hill full of unmarked gravestones they must traverse through before they reach the gallows. The contraptions themselves sit on a taller hill behind it. They loom like towers. I can see the criminals lining up behind each noose.

A few minutes pass in tense, ugly silence. This is the kind of silence that is not quiet. It’s the kind of silence that bears all things, hears all things, and devours all things. Suddenly, the unmistakable crack of the door dropping out rings through the air. I can almost hear the strained, final breaths of the criminals. Ugly brute has received what he has deserved. The soldiers return and begin to unlink the next five. I count quickly, numbering off seventeen or so before we… before…

She hyperventilates beside me, deep, gasping breaths and she is terrified. She is so so terrified. I see it in her eyes as she looks up at me through her tears. She is desperate and she is falling apart and she is so so terrified.

“I can’t—I can’t—I can’t—”

“Shh, shh, sweet joy,” I whisper. I bend down on one knee, my hands moving to her face where she swipes furiously at the tears. I place the palms of my hands on each of her cheeks, and I realize for the first time that she has freckles like pinpricks of stars, a needlepoint of constellations. “You’ll rub your face raw if you continue like that.” In the air, a second crack of the gallows. The rain begins to fall in sheets, and I cannot tell tear from raindrop.

“I don’t want to cry anymore,” she says, taking more gasping breaths. “Father said crying is weakness.”

“Well, your father is a fool and a liar. Don’t you know that tears freely given contain powerful magic?” I say. Her brows furrow at me. She shakes her head, not trusting her voice. “Every tear that you cry, wherever it lands, shall grow into a wildflower.”

Her hands, tiny things that I could swallow with just one palm, wrap around my wrists. “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

Another crack fills the air. The soldiers come back for the next group. I aim a playful frown at her. “Are you so quick to mistrust me, my lady?” 

We move forward, shuffling our way onto the Bridge. Beneath us, the creek babbles, ignorant to the sorrows and fears it courses underneath. She shakes her head at me, tears now falling in cascades. They slide through my fingers, and I let them drop to the ground. “W-why don’t you cry, then?”

I pull on my best smile, but it droops in the corners, weighed down. “My tears make thorns, sweet joy. I am stitched and knitted by bitterness. But you?” I hear the third crack resound through the air. “You are kind. You are beautiful. You have given this pickpocket joy before he meets his end. That makes an authentic heart. That makes tears full of wildflowers. You can cry flowers for me.”

I hear the soldiers come for us.

I move my hands from her face to clasp her own shaking hands in mine. “’To see a World in a Grain of Sand…’” One final poem for her. I press a kiss to the tips of her fingers. 

“’And a Heaven in a Wild Flower…’” I can see the soldiers now. 

“’Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand…’” Her eyes grow wide with fear, but I hold her tight. I will not let her go.

“And Eternity in an hour…’” The soldiers unchain us from the others. 

“Come, sweet joy,” I say, words squeezing past the stone in my throat. “Let us embrace the Eternity that awaits us.”

This is the deafening silence I have been waiting for. It is the kind that swallows all sound, all sobs, all footsteps. It has even swallowed the wind. It sucks up the rainfall. Silence is a sword plunged halfway to the hilt. In a few moments, it will be sunk straight through.

I do not focus on the gravestones. I do not focus on the looming gallows. I do not focus on the corpses. I do not focus on the rain. I do not focus on the voice laying out our crimes. I do not focus on anything except for the seven-year-old girl at my side who still clutches onto my sleeves. I focus on the girl who should not be here. 

She should not be here. 

She is about to be hanged for the crime of being unloved by her own father.

She. Should. Not. Be. Here.

I feel the boards of the stairs leading to the gallows platform creak under my feet. They do not creak under hers. She is not old enough for stairs to creak under her. She should not be here. 

The soldiers place us behind one noose each, a necklace to paint a ring of purple bruises around our necks. I look out. I look out past the graveyard where I will meet my eternal rest. Past the others standing on the Bridge of Sighs who will lay beside me in death. Past the muddy road where I met a seven-year-old girl who should not be here. 

I look at a world that gave me nothing. It birthed me and kicked dirt in my face. It signed my death warrant the moment I was born a peasant boy to a widowed mother who gave her only money to a church that did not want her or her bastard son. But it did give me poetry. At least I will always have poetry. And I will always have the memory of her.

The wet, frayed noose slips over my head, the knot pushed harsh against my neck. 

I turn my head to her. She stands on a block because she is too short to reach the noose. She is quiet, but the tears still fall freely from her face. She should not be here.

“Sweet joy,” I call out one last time. Her eyes meet mine.

“Make wildflowers for me.”

A final crack.

#vectorspaces #usersjie #userallie #usercaroline #illuminosity #writers of tumblr #short story #angst #tw death #death // #literature #prose #hpeezie writes #she speaks #original #writing #my writing #hi so this is something i wrote for a class #i just #felt like i needed to put it somewhere else #if you liked let me know? #it's not the best #but i tried #anyway #yup #nostlagiac #archistratego #pushkins

[randomfandomimagine]

Sunshine in the Moonlight. Chapter 19: Darkness

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Pairing: Prompto x Alexandria (OC)

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Wattpad - AO3

One week passed.

It felt like the darkness had taken with it the few glee we had left as it settled. The four of us occupied ourselves with some investigation as we attempted to gather as much information about the world’s current situation as possible. We needed to learn the extent of the harm, the intensity of which the darkness had engulfed Eos with.

It was bad. As we moved from one place to the other we walked as though we were zombies, dragging our feet across the ground and barely even speaking. The atmosphere was one of apathy, gloom and misery.

We made our way to Hammerhead, assuming we would at least be safe there. Fortunately, our friends Cindy and Cid were alive and well, and would keep us company. Not to mention lend us a car when we needed. Even if no vehicle could compare to the Regalia’s magnificence.

We ran into Umbra, Noctis’ dog that he once used to communicate with Lady Lunafreya, and prepared a message that he was to deliver to our regal friend. If he was to come back, that was.

For the time being, we remained in Hammerhead.

I couldn’t help but to remember about its previous state. The heavy yet warm heat that used to fall upon it as the sun bathed the entire garage. I profoundly missed that, as we were forced to make use of our flashlights more and more in order to see anything. It was like a constant night that never ended.

One day, after barely speaking to one another, we were going to sleep in the caravans. I kept an eye on Ignis as he carefully climbed up the two steps that led inside the vehicle, going after Gladio.

Like the literal and metaphorical darkness wasn’t enough, Ignis’ eyesight hadn’t returned. I must have been extremely gullible to believe it ever could, as it seemed it never would in the end. He was permanently blind. 

I placed a hand on his back even though he never lost balance, and he turned his head at me and nodded in gratitude for the thoughtful gesture. At least we still had each other.

Just as I placed one foot on the first step and before I could follow Ignis inside, a hand sneaked around mine and found home around it. Fingers intertwined, I rejoiced in the familiar and comforting touch.

Knowing what I would find when I did, I looked over my shoulder to see the golden and bright beauty of Prompto’s face. He smiled at me when my eyes landed on him. It wasn’t a cheerful smile, but it was a genuine and loving and warm one. It wasn’t often that I saw him display an authentic and not forced smile lately and it made me realize how much I adored the way it beautifully formed on his lips, tenderly. 

Then he silently took me with him as we went over to the bed we would share and sat down, still holding hands. That smile lingered on his lips. I nodded as the both of us lied down together, tightly holding each other as we snuggled as close as we could. We didn’t speak, we didn’t need to. Because even the slightest glance or touch was already a conversation for us. It was small interactions like those with my friends that helped me move forward those first days. That gave me the strength to continue when I felt too depressed to move on.

  One month. And every second of it was pure torture.

Yet, after all, my mind had finally grown accustomed to the idea that Noctis was no longer with us, to his absence. I no longer turned around in search for him to watch his reaction or seek his opinion. It still hurt, but at least I didn’t expect him to be there anymore.

Contrary to popular belief, time doesn’t heal all wounds. All it does is merely close them, for the scars remain.

I had also stopped hoping. Hoping that every figure in the distance was the one of Noct. Hoping that every phone call came from his number. That every car that passed by our outpost could somehow carry him.

Ignis and Prompto held on to that hope, deciding to take an optimistic perspective to our friend’s absence. Gladio and I, on the other hand, were skeptical. Noct might never come back and we had to get used to that idea.

The only saving grace was that we were mostly too busy to think about him or notice his absence. With daemons running freely with the thick darkness that had taken over, we were forced to become hunters in order to defend ourselves from that menace. And when we got back to our lodging, we were far too exhausted to dwell on our agony.

At least Prompto’s gun firing lessons came in handy more than ever as it allowed me to save them countless times. I still preferred to use guns as a last resort, though.

After a tiring daemon hunt, I was inside the caravan with Ignis while the rest were outside, chatting with Cindy. We were slowly carrying on with our lives trying to dismiss the fact that we were surrounded by darkness and lacking a king and a friend.

When Ignis let out a quiet yet vexed sigh, I took notice of the fact that I had been pacing up and down ever since I came inside the caravan. I immediately quit doing it and sat by his side instead. His head briefly turned at the sound, and at first I thought he would say something. He didn’t.

One good thing had come out of the whole situation. I hardly ever cared about my stupid insecurities or fears anymore, they were puerile and had no importance by that point. I didn’t care anymore about foolish concepts like embarrassment or shyness. I just didn’t have it in me to care. So I rested my head on Ignis’ shoulder. He visibly tensed up, taken aback by the gesture, yet seemed content with it nonetheless.

“Iggy” I uttered, feeling like I had hardly ever spoken up in the entire month.

“Yes?”

“Do you think he’ll be back?”

Of course, it was not necessary to clarify. Noctis always remained as a little presence in the back of our heads, no matter how exhausted, busy or preoccupied we were. We merely tried to pretend like he didn’t. It was far easier that way.

After a brief silence, Ignis placed his gloved hand over mine. I was surprised that he knew where I rested it, yet he had become more aware of his surroundings despite his blindness.

“I do” His solemn voice sounded confident and calm. “I have no doubt about it”

“You’re right” I said out loud, to deceive him. I could no longer deceive myself. “You always are”

I didn’t have the heart to confess to him that I had no trace of hope left.

  Two months.

Prompto was becoming more and more important to me, even more so than before. Which was saying something. It was true that Gladio and Ignis sometimes did their best to cheer all of us up, but Prompto always had a unique gift to achieve it. He shone with a natural glow that passed on to anyone close enough to him. Soft, warm and bright like sunshine.

Furthermore, we were slowly drifting apart from each other. With Noct gone, it was harder for us to stick together despite our friendship. Sometimes I felt like the only reason we remained as a group was because we did it for him, to honor his memory. Even though he wasn’t dead. Or we hoped he wasn’t.

Yet after a specially hard and challenging daemon hunt, I was left sore, tired and apathetic. Assuring the rest that I needed no assistance on the task, I went to the garage and picked up the first aid kit that Cindy kept in there in order to heal my superficial wounds. Just when I was finished and putting it back on its place, someone loudly walked over to me to announce their presence. I recognized Prompto’s figure and walked closer to him in order to meet with him.

“Don’t worry, I am alright” Always the apprehensive, my boyfriend worried every time I was wounded during our hunts. No matter how unimportant my bruises were. So I always tried to comfort him when it happened. “I promise, I’m okay”

“No, you’re not…” His voice sounded broken as he slowly shook his head.

“I am! I treated my cuts and now I am alright!” I insisted, showing him my bandaged arms.

“That’s not what I meant, baby” Taking advantage of their position, Prompto held my forearms in a gentle grip and softly slid his hands down them until they rested around mine.

“Then what did you mean?” I observed him with curiosity as he gently tugged at my hands to separate the small distance between our bodies.

“I haven’t seen you smile in days, Xanders” Prompto placed both his hands on my waist and attracted me closer to him until my front leaned against his. “I miss that smile”

I could have said the same thing about him, yet he always found a way to smile at me. Perhaps he was trying too hard to oblige, perhaps it was an honest and genuine display of his affection. It was comforting, however, to see he hadn’t lost that lovely smile quite yet.

One of his hands suddenly left my side and took ahold of my hand. Not letting go of me, Prompto then began to sway with me.

“What are you doing?” I uttered in shock, locking eyes with him.

His glance was as pure as ever, filled with adoration even though the concern and sorrow attempted to overshadow it.

“What does it look like? I’m dancing” He slowly moved, rhythmically, leading my movements as well.

“Prom, there’s no music”

“We don’t need it”

“What is the point of this, exactly?”

“I saw it on a movie once” My boyfriend dedicated me an affectionate glance as he lightly shrugged. “The boy started dancing with the girl and she cheered up”

I chuckled in appreciation, endeared by such an altruistic thought.

“You’re the best, sunshine” I realized only then, how long it had been since I last called him that.  

“You flatter me, Xanders” He replied, perfectly mimicking Ignis’ tone and accent. It actually put a smile on my face. “Seriously, though”

As we kept on slow dancing to no music, I craned my neck to leave a tender kiss on his lips. We never stopped moving, involved in the rhythmical and soothing swaying and the extreme and intimate closeness as our bodies touched.

His lips brought me comfort once more as they moved in sync with mine. They filled me with warmth and hope. The kiss was cleansing and exhilarating, sweet and uplifting.

Something scratched my chin when I pulled away, and when I looked down to his mouth I noticed a bit of fuzz that truly exposed the passing of time despite my perception.

“You’re itchy” I gently pinched his chin to feel the start of his facial hair. I could not picture Prompto with a full grown beard, it was such a strange image.

“I’m growing a beard” He proudly replied, still not letting go of me nor stopping dancing.

“You mean a goatee” I teased him a bit, noticing the fuzz only grew in that spot.

“For now” He brushed the rude comment off. “You wait and see”

A smile unexpectedly crept up to my mouth, and I decided its place was against his. Hopefully, it would pass over to him.

Indeed, the corner of his lips lifted on the brief kiss.

I sighed and leaned closer to him, nuzzling my nose against his shoulder, nearly like I was falling in love with him all over again. I embraced that feeling of comfort and tranquil. Engraving it in my memory in an attempt to savor that sweet, wholesome, candid and happy moment.

  Five months had passed.

Lately, every single day could be summarized in lots of hunting. It was everything we did all day other than sleeping. And other than travelling back and forth from Lestallum to Hammerhead. Yet, of course, we could hardly tell days apart with the lack of sunlight. We were solely oriented by Ignis’ watch as our phones batteries died long ago.

We were more distant and susceptible than ever. Everyone seemed to be their own person, the previously well-oiled machine that it was our team became rusty as it had stopped feeling like we were a group anymore.

I had drifted apart from Gladiolus first, and even from Ignis eventually. Nonetheless, despite the fact that we spent most of our time together, Prompto and I also seemed a bit off. As though we had lost touch, like the connection we always shared had faded away. Not quite like we were strangers, as the four of us remained close friends and still trusted each other. Yet… it wasn’t the same. This showed especially when we hunted. Perhaps because the daemons were greater foes than other creatures we previously faced were. However, I was inclined to believe it was the fact that our strategy was more chaotic.

“Earth to Alex!” Gladio shouted at me, grunting from the effort. “Quit daydreaming!”

I didn’t reply, I merely clenched my teeth and obliged. It was only that lately it had been harder and harder to focus. Some absences were too notable.

I wearily threw my sword upon the flame daemon and sent it to its demise. What I hadn’t noticed, however, was that another daemon was sneaking up on me. Perhaps I had improved my tactic, yet I had lost my focus almost completely.

The other daemon swung a terrible giant black claw at me, sweeping me off my feet and throwing me on the ground. When it did, it closed its claw and thrusted it upon me.

My reflexes still worked, however, as I was fast enough to scoot away from it and nearly put myself to safety. Albeit my legs, as I was partially too slow and the impact fell upon my foot. I screamed out in pain, conjured my sword off to make an exchange with my gun, and shot it in the face, getting carried away with anger as my gun went off repeatedly. 

I was surprised that my aim was accurate as I had not wielded that gun in a very long time, favoring my habitual trustworthy sword.

I was about to shoot at the other daemons to help my friends when I realized they had just finished their opponents as well.

“Alexandria!” Ignis gasped, making his way towards me as fast as he could.

“Don’t freak out” I grumpily replied as I pushed myself to my feet. “I’m alright”

“You were hit” Gladio dismissed his sword and observed me in slight concern.

“I will survive” I hoped they didn’t notice my limp as I tried to favor the ankle the daemon had just hurt. But Prompto, of course, did. Lately he was especially clingy, almost as though he was obsessed with looking after me. Surely, there was something bigger behind that need to keep me safe and in good spirits.

With a resolved sigh, the blond positioned himself before me facing his back to me, and took ahold of my wrists.

“Ugh, what are you doing?!” I exclaimed as he casually hoisted me up onto his back.

“Carrying you” He shrugged as he allowed me to rest my entire body weight against him. “You have weak ankles, Xanders!”

I had noticed how often he called me by that playful nickname lately, which he always used when he was trying to get me to crack a smile. It was part of his elaborated plan to look after me, I supposed. Perhaps it was his mind trying to take control of some circumstances he actually had power over.

Hence, Prompto carried me to the pick-up truck that brought us to that place and made sure I was sitting comfortably in the back seat.

“Be right back, I’m gonna check on Ignis” He said before leaving hurriedly.

Gladio came by in the meantime and sat on the driver’s seat. He looked at me in the rear view mirror and nodded in my direction.

“Making a big deal out of things as usual, huh?” I knew he was referring to Prompto. While oddly endearing, his behavior lately was somewhat… irritating. Especially when it came to battling daemons. Maybe he was afraid of losing us like he lost Noct.

“As usual” I replied with a nod of agreement. “It’s really not that bad, barely hurts now. I could walk”

“Good ol’ Prompto” He chuckled in the end, a sound I hadn’t heard in a long time. I evoked the sound of his blatant and loud guffaws of laughter and smiled at the memory of those good times.

“Are you doing okay, Gladio?” I felt the need to ask him, knowing we barely talked lately.

“I’m fine” His smug grin had developed into a more modest and tender gesture as well. Everything was changing. “Daemons are no match for me”

Although, those last words were amusing and cocky still. Some things never change.

“I meant about… you know… everything”

“Don’t worry about me, kid”

Just when he was done speaking, Prompto and Ignis arrived and joined us, sitting in the back with me and the front with Gladio respectively.

“Is everyone alright then?”

“We’re alright, Iggy”

That had become our idle, monotone and sad routine. Being beat up by daemons until we achieved victory and constantly asking each other if we were okay. Even though we knew we weren’t.

  One year.

Days had started to blend together and I could no longer tell how long it had been since Noctis was gone ever since the first anniversary from his disappearance was marked.

We had established in Lestallum instead of Hammerhead, seeing as more people sheltered there. Talcott had joined us at some point in time, along with Iris. Gladiolus was relieved to finally hear news from his beloved sister, and so were we. The more of our friends we could reunite with, the better.

One day I felt strange. Overwhelmed, restless, out of myself. A weight, heavy like lead, had settled on my chest and wouldn’t allow me to breathe properly. Oddly enough, I was looking forward to hunting some daemons to… feel something.

Within I felt like I was empty, like I had been drained from all emotions. Hunting appeared to me as a solution, as a way to produce some adrenaline and perhaps even some serotonin. At the very least, it would force me to focus on something other than my distressed state, it would distract me from everything. And it did, until we climbed into the rundown truck that we used to move from one place to another and that Cindy kindly allowed us to borrow whenever we pleased.

The silent ride –albeit with the occasional comment from one of the boys –only sank me deeper into that strange and unnerving condition. It felt like the car didn’t move fast enough as we returned to Hammerhead. Yet we eventually arrived.

As soon as Gladio and Prompto left to talk to Cindy and Cid, a hand wrapped around my upper arm. I did not have to look around to know it was Ignis judging by the firm yet gentle grip.

“A word, Alexandria?”

“Are you a mind reader now?” I bitterly told him, understanding he wanted to address my behavior.

“Alas, you do know what I want to talk about”

“Yes, you always knew me too well, Iggy…”

Reluctantly, I turned around to be face to face with him and crossed my arms in a gesture of defeat and compliance. Ignis paused, a habit that he developed as he tried to use his other senses to acknowledge his surroundings. When he confirmed it was a private conversation, he got started.

“You never allowed yourself to show weakness, dear” Both his tone and smile were tender and paternal as his hand softly fell on my shoulder. “No one would blame you if you began doing so”

“I’m… To be honest, I’m afraid I will drag you with me” Surprisingly enough, admitting those words released part of the heavy weight in my chest. “That is why I try to remain strong for you all”

“Sometimes the biggest strength resides in allowing oneself to be vulnerable” His smile tenderized even further, if that was possible.

I chuckled in disbelief. I had so few interactions with him lately, I had almost forgotten who I was talking to. Ignis Scientia, once royal advisor. A kind and selfless man, yet also an intelligent, calm and mature person.

“You’re wiser than ever, Iggy” I rested my hand atop of his to thank him.

“Anything you would like to say then?”

“I wouldn’t say anything new, surely we are all experiencing the same emotions”

“Nonetheless” His fingers lightly squeezed me as he shook his head. “You might find cathartic to speak your mind. You mustn’t bottle up your strife”

I bit hard on my lip and tightened the grip on his hand, seeking as much comfort from him as I could gather. Touched by his disposition to hear me despite his own struggles, a warmth engulfed me. The fond and welcoming warmth of having an intimate moment with a friend, a genuine heart to heart. A feeling I had nearly forgotten.

“I just miss him so much, you know?” By that point, I was clinging to his hand. It felt like it would save me from the abyss that threatened to swallow me whole as I poured all my emotions out. “I can’t stop thinking about how I used to be so irritated by him, how I only saw him as a spoiled princely brat once. And now his absence is so heavy that it takes my breath away”

A nervous trembling had taken over me, it was also noticeable in my voice, yet speaking my thoughts felt so comforting. I couldn’t stop myself, so I continued talking.

“Sometimes I fear he didn’t realize how important he is to me, and I fear I won’t see him again and have the chance to tell him, to show him. To… at least hug him once more”

“Alex…”

“Truth is, although the darkness is terrifying… I don’t want the Chosen King anymore” I sighed, still refusing to cry. Perhaps because I was too scared that I wouldn’t be able to stop if I started. “I just want my friend back, Iggy…” 

“I miss him too, darling…” His thumb brushed against my cheek, and I could tell he was feeling in search for tears yet found none. “But Noct will be back, we must have faith”

I stared at Ignis in an attempt to empathize with him. To put myself in his shoes in order to comfort him as well. It wasn’t fair that he always put us before himself.

Truth was, Gladio and Iggy always concealed their struggles for our sakes. They always had. They felt responsible for us, almost like our older siblings, protective in every way.

I tried to think like Ignis, and I realized how he must have felt. He had always looked after Noctis, surely guilt was eating him alive.

“It’s not your fault, you know that” I uttered carefully, afraid to cross the line. “It’s nobody’s fault”

Even though an understanding and thankful grin plastered on his lips, I noticed the slight shift in his stoic demeanor. As though he was letting his guard down for just a moment after so long keeping it up.

“I am aware, Alex, thank you”

“I mean it. After all, I suppose it was his destiny as the King of Light” I sighed, resigned with that fact. Accepting it. “Perhaps it was bound to happen in order to restore the light”

“You too are wiser than ever now” Ignis’ hand slipped down my arm until it completely lost contact with me. “I am proud of you, Alexandria”

Gently, I briefly wrapped my arms around his torso. It made me feel foolish for not having done so before, either with him or Gladio or even Prompto. Just claim a hug if I genuinely craved it.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me”

“Are you feeling better? Is there anything else you need?”

“I just want to know if you’re okay” I looked up at him as I slowly broke the embrace. “If you’re really okay”

“I am, you have my word” Ignis nodded solemnly. “Of course, the situation is not pleasant and Noct’s absence saddens me. Yet I am okay in spite of all”

I fondly squeezed his arm in acknowledgment and tugged at it so we would join the rest at last. It felt good to get those things off my chest.

  A few days after that conversation with Ignis, I definitely broke down. Everything had become too painful to bear. It all had been building up little by little with each passing day, like water drops that slowly filled the glass until it was full and overflowing. Distancing ourselves more and more from each other, the uneasy darkness, the daemons, the miserable and depressing state the world was in, the mere passing of time, the overwhelming mood of woe and peril that followed me everywhere I went. And the immense absence of our friend.

But what triggered my breakdown was a camera. Prompto’s camera.

I found it by coincidence, and realized he hadn’t used it ever since Noctis disappeared. Nostalgic and slightly thrilled to see some wholesome and heartwarming pictures of my friends and myself for a change, I turned the camera on and started shuffling through the photos Prompto once took.

Such endeavor had the opposite effect, however, as I was hit with the realization that we wouldn’t be able to enjoy moments like those anymore. None of us would smile like that again, none of us would be together in that manner. It felt like we would never be happy again.

There wouldn’t be more camping nights eating Ignis’ meals and chatting around the fire, joking and playing King’s Knight. There wouldn’t be any more rides in the Regalia. There wouldn’t be any more… happiness. Not without Noctis, not without our friend.

Prompto caught me bawling my eyes out inside the diner, engulfed in darkness as I had hidden there believing no one would think I was in there. Like everything else, the diner was abandoned after all. On one of the booths, I curled over myself in one of the red padded seats that used to serve as eating arrangements. He quietly sat down in the one in front of me, resting his arms over the table as he observed me.

“Wanna talk?” He whispered in a soothing way despite his direct approach.

“It’s just becoming too much” I sniffled through my nose. “We keep waiting and waiting and…”

“Every day we’re closer to Noct’s return” Prompto tried to see the positive side. “I’m sure of it, if we just wait, he’ll-”

“It’s not that…”

“What is it then, is it not about Noct?”

“Of course it’s about Noct!”

“We all miss him, Alex, it’s okay to feel like that”

“Prom, you don’t understand…” My voice sounded hoarse because of the crying, yet I didn’t care. “Noct changed my life!”

My boyfriend tilted his head to the side, not quite following what I implied. Surely, Noctis changed Prompto’s life in a way as well. His love and friendship meant so much.

“If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be here right now, I wouldn’t have met you” I averted my eyes, feeling self-conscious even though I didn’t try to conceal my tears. “Because of Noctis, I came with you guys on a journey, and so many things changed…”

Cautiously, I glimpsed at Prompto. He remained silent, intently listening to what I had to say and observing me with soft eyes, wanting to know my inner thoughts and my honest emotions.  

“Before… Before I was just a member of the Council, a female copy of Ignis who didn’t really know who she was, whose entire behavior was a façade. I was content with just following him around and giving my advice to the king, I didn’t have any other aspirations” I chuckled out of frustration. “And now I know who I am, I know what I want… And you have all accepted me exactly for who and what I am, and it all started with him”

Prompto frowned in a way that let me know he was deeply moved by such confession. Yet he didn’t speak still, letting me finish.

“You know what’s funny about it? I disliked him so much at first, his mere presence irritated me! And now every day I pray to meet him again to thank him for everything he’s done for me. For his kind and soft heart and his friendship, for this opportunity and-and…”

Upon noticing I was turning into a mumbling and sobbing mess, Prompto urgently stood up and sat at the very edge of the seat I was occupying as he barely fit in there with me.

His arms engulfed my curled up form, one arm wrapped behind my back and the other around my legs as he pulled me close.

“I know how you feel, Noct was the first true friend I ever had, you know?” Honestly, I never really heard their story. “He’s… He’s really special”

“How did you meet?” Slowly feeling how my sobbing softened, I looked up at him. Prom reciprocated my glance with a tender look in his eyes. When he looked away, I read a hint of nostalgia in that ocean of vibrant azure.

“We met in primary school, but I didn’t work up the nerve to talk to him until high school, heh” It was refreshing to hear his light chuckles again, as well as that heartwarming story.

“Sounds like you, Prom” I forced myself to tease him as I wiped the tears from my face.

“I was very shy” The blond shrugged, even though his arms tightened around me slightly, perhaps in an unconscious gesture. “I just wanted to be his friend… Neither of us seemed to have real friends”

It was my time to linger on the silence, so I merely rested my head on his shoulder and waited for him to say something else, looking up at him attentively.

“All I ever wanted was friends, and in him I finally had one. When I hung out with Noct, I forgot about all my insecurities, I wasn’t lonely anymore… He made me feel loved, at home” His cheek gently rested on my head as he sighed dreamily. “And thanks to him, I met you all too. Iggy, Gladio and you…”

“We owe him quite a lot” I dared to pipe up, albeit making my voice low.

“That we do” He chuckled, rubbing his cheek against my head lovingly. “It would make him all smug and smirky if we ever told him, though”

“That bloody smug grin of his” I laughed a bit too, picturing it in my head.

The both of us shared a moderate laugh. After that, the silence established.

Prompto was holding me, and it was one of the few things that brought me a feeling of safety in such a perilous world. In such a strange moment.

“I’m drowsy” I mumbled, devoid from my strength, as I snuggled closer to him. “I’m so comfortable that I could fall asleep”

“Go ‘head” He replied tenderly. “I’ll protect you”

“From what?”

“Anything”

With that, I felt into a deep slumber being held by him. It was the first time in months that I had a pleasant and calm dream. And it was while wrapped in Prompto’s arms, knowing he would watch over me.

  I couldn’t tell how long it had been since I last saw Gladio or Ignis. I wouldn’t see Prompto either if it weren’t because we were still a couple, albeit not as closely as we were before.

For the most part, we stayed at Lestallum. Even though we had started separating to tend to our own business. At some point they changed from our business to my business.

I lied down on our bed, staring up at the ceiling, pensive. Prompto had already fallen asleep, luckily for him. He exhausted himself with the hunting and running errands for Cindy or someone else.

Going to sleep was the best yet the worst part of the day. It was relieving to get some rest and put our weary minds at ease with the joy of slumber. Yet it also gave us some time alone with our thoughts as we struggled to fall asleep.

A feeling of dread and peril had accompanied us every day of our lives ever since the darkness settled. The roars of the daemons out in the open was harrowing and distressing, reminding us of their existence even in our calmest moments.

Nightmares were recurrent, and we were always afraid to wake up in a cold sweat. Every single night.

I hadn’t realized I had fallen asleep until I awoke in the middle of the night.

Prompto still slept peacefully next to me, pressing his back against my torso as he rested on his side. I was warmed by such an adorable sight, and couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward and plant feather-light kisses on his cheeks and on the freckles on his nose.

A sleepy smile was drawn on his pink lips as he tossed around and faced me. He curled up over himself and cuddled me closer, almost as though he loved me even in his sleep.

Content with the endearing moment, I went back to sleep, snuggled close to him and being happy for a change.

However, such peaceful moment didn’t last long, for I was awoken abruptly. My eyes snapped open in a scare, hearing heavy breathing and feeling the bed move next to me.

“Prompto?” I whispered as I tiredly opened my eyes. I immediately sobered up when I was received with his expression, even though his eyes remained closed.

He was indeed gasping for air, but his face was sickly pale and the sweat stuck his blond hair to his forehead. It wasn’t the first time he, or I for that matter, had a nightmare. But it was scary and worrying every single time, as his eyes also displayed while being laced with horror.

Urgently, Prompto threw himself to me and clung to me for dear life as soon as he woke up and opened his eyes.

“I love you” He whispered in a rush, almost breathless. “I-I-I love you, Alex”

“You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” I asked him, concerned as I rapidly wrapped my arms around him. “It’s alright, I’m here, I’m alright and you’re too”

I kissed his nose, then his cheek, then his forehead, then his jaw. I caressed his hair with tender hands and held him close to my chest.

I couldn’t tell if he just had one of those nightmares in which he lost us, any of us. Yet knowing some of his nightmares had to do with the irrational fear that his barcode somehow made us change our minds about him, I held his wrist and kissed it lightly just in case. To remind him that I still loved him and he belonged with me. Always.

  One day, once a complete darkness had established, we met with Gladio and Ignis near Hammerhead, teaming up like the old days to hunt some daemons. It was strange feeling like my friends were suddenly strangers as we had lost our usual synchronization and communication. We still were stronger as a group and easily defeated the daemons all together. Yet it wasn’t the same as before.

Just when we were about to go our separate ways again after politely asking each other how we were doing, we received a call. It was from Talcott, and I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard the news.

Noctis was back.

Tagging list: @toranyx, @prince-of-wind, @ghadah1421

#sunshine in the moonlight #sitm #ffxv #final fantasy xv #fanfiction #fanfic #story #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv fanfic #ffxv story #final fantasy xv fanfiction #final fantasy xv fanfic #final fantasy xv story #prompto #prompto x oc #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum #noctis #ignis #ignis scientia #gladio #gladiolus #gladiolus amicitia #no reader insert #oc

[standuphippy]

May Favorites

Here’s what I enjoyed in May. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6G0CPjAQFlGFCTXXbx6jZg?si=B5-28pckSb2vC0pim46A7A

NEW MUSIC: The Bad Bad Hats “The Wild Honeypie Buzzsession” A charming band from Minneapolis. They’ve been livestreaming every Saturday for the past few months and they sound great doing it.

Café Racer “Shadow Talk” If you’ve wanted to get a fix of Cryptograms/ Fluorescent Grey era Deerhunter this will set you right.

Caleb Landry Jones “The Mother Stone” He’s a captivating actor. His record is a woozy, brassy affair.

Carly Rae Jepsen “Dedicated Side B” This record is every bit as good as the “actual” record.

Charli XCX “Detonate” A great song from Charli XCX’s quarantine album.

Christian Lee Hutson “Beginners” An intimate folk record, produced by Phoebe Bridgers.

Deau Eyes “Let It Leave” Alt country goodness.

Fontaines D.C. “A Hero’s Death” Good advice.

Jaime Wyatt  “Neon Cross” More alt country goodness.

Jeff Rosenstock “N O  D R E A M” Rosenstock’s 2018 record “POST-“ is an equal to Superchunk’s “What A Time to Be Alive” in terms of examining the current age by asking ”What the fuck is going on?” in the form of a punk album. Rosenstock keeps that energy alive with “N O  D R E A M”.

Jim White and Marissa Anderson “The Quickening” Experimental drums and guitar from two captivating artists.

Mark Lanegan “Straight Songs of Sorrow” …and drugs. Sorrow and drugs.

Moses Sumney “grae” I saw Moses Sumney open for A Hundred Waters at the beginning of 2015. He ended the set by saying, “I think I have a few tapes left, come find me if you want one.” Greatest merch pitch ever.

Perfume Genius “Set My Heart On Fire Immediately” I look forward to each record with an expectation of greatness but no idea what it will sound like. A Perfume Genius preorder is one of my safest bets.

Prince and the Revolution “Live in Syracuse 1985” Prince followed his own whims onstage; he shifted gears quickly and rarely played entire songs. This set captures him at the hight of his powers at a time when he was still playing what could be considered a conventional set. He played the whole songs here; the setlist is incredible and the performances are expansive.

Rose City Band “Summerlong” Summer jams.

The Soft Pink Truth “Shall We Go On Sinning So That Grace May Increase?” Experimental house from Drew Daniel of Matmos.

Sparks “A Steady Drip Drip Drip” A new Sparks album. Charming, pointed, and very funny.

Sweet Spirit “Trinidad” Sweet Spirit seemed like a glam band (Sabrina Ellis and Andrew Cashen also helm the excellent punk band A Giant Dog) but this album is straight pop and it’s wonderful.

Varsity “Fine Forever” I saw Varsity open for Japanese Breakfast in Chicago a few years ago, “Fine Forever” is a leap forward. It’s a great record.

X “Alphabetland” I love the sound of X.

OLD MUSIC (revisits and new discoveries) :
 Gospel Music “duettes, How to Get to Heaven from Jacksonville FL” Tracyanne Campbell tweeted about singing on “Automobile” and that led me to this EP and LP by Gospel Music. Wry lyrics in the spirit of Beat Happening or The Magnetic Fields.

Ministry “The Land of Rape and Honey, Psalm 69, Filth Pig, The Dark Side of the Spoon, Animositisomnia, No W, Rio Grande Blood, The Last Sucker” Upon reading the visual history book Prescripture, I went to revisit a few Ministry albums. My shorthand takeaway is that I’m never going to like “Filth Pig” (a land-of-a-thousand-chances record for me) but “The Dark Side of the Spoon” - where Al added a saxophone to the sludge - is still one of my favorites.

The Pipettes “We Are The Pipettes” They were fabricated to make modern girl-group music (“Pipettes” like they were formed in a lab, get it?) but had authentic talent. They have a handful of other releases, but “We Are The Pipettes” is the one to check out.

OLD MOVIES: Art School Confidential (2006) Director Terry Zwigoff revisits Daniel Clowes material for this cynical, funny look at art school.

Everyone Else (2009) The Forest for the Trees (2003) A few years ago I spent three hours on Christmas Day at the NuArt watching Toni Erdmann, the third feature written and directed by Maren Ade. It was one of my favorite films of the year. Her first two films are excellent as well. “Everyone Else” observes a young couple in what could be their final days together, and “The Forest for the Trees” chronicles the painful devastation of an idealistic young school teacher. Ade’s films aren’t always “fun” to watch, but I cared about all three of the leads. She works with the actors to capture authentic characters and then lets those characters guide the story.

Godzilla (Showa Era 1954-1975) I was halfway through “Ghidorah the Three-Headed Monster” when my six-year-old passed through the room on her way to bed. “What’s this about?” What started as an attempt to delay bedtime for a few minutes has turned into part of our nightly routine: we’ve watched the entire Showa Era run of 15 films, plus “Rodan” and “Mothra.” My daughter marvels at the monsters and I marvel at what she sees and hears. We watched half a dozen films before she turned and exclaimed, “I like the Ghidorah music the best!” She made me realize how much kids appreciate a child’s perspective: her favorite film from the period is “Son of Godzilla”. She even enjoyed “All Monsters Attack!” aka “Godzilla’s Revenge” (where footage from other films is integrated as dream sequences) because the narrative is about a boy figuring out how to deal with bullies.

Tomboy (2011) I loved “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” and the Criterion Channel had some of Céline Sciamma’s  older films available for streaming. Tomboy is about a ten-year-old who presents herself as a boy when her family moves to a new neighborhood.

Un Flic (1972) Jean-Pierre Melville’s final film. Alain Delon is a brute as the titular cop who suspects that he’s caught in a love triangle with a criminal mastermind. I loved the heist scenes, I loved the color palette.

#favorites #May2020