#these two have my whome heart

[terrywho-cartoons]

And now we never speak of it again.

#bluesy #these two have my whome heart #like all of it #entirely #sweet angst #I love them #blue sargent #gansey #richard campbell gansey the third #gangsey #the raven cycle #raven boys #blue lily lily blue #the dream thieves #the raven king #raven boys fanart

[unrequitedloveletter]

The Deadly Romantics

the deadly romantics masterlist

and so, the games begin!

Chapter specific warnings- a mention of stepping off the platform too early and the result being an explosion, mentions of death and the use of flint as a weapon

Y/N L/N  

“Remember, fight as long as you can,” Nina said as she passed Y/N the thin black jacket. “You can do this, all that you need to do is make it through day one. After day one, things always get easier.” Y/N slipped the thin black jacket over their shoulders as they tried not to shudder with Ninas words. Things always get easier. They only get easier because people die.

The outfitting for the tributes of Twelve was a pair of black cargo pants, black combat boots, a military green long sleeved shirt and a black jacket. The outfits had been designed for mobilities sake, all of the clothes made of breathable fabrics.

As Y/N registered the slight weight of a flint, tucked into their right pocket, they allowed themself a momentary smile.

“First off, don’t step off the platform early. It’ll explode the moment your weight leaves it, and dying like that? It’s no way to go,” Nikolai said as he moved to lean against the door, sighing as he pressed his back against it.

“Don’t go for the cornucopia. Everybody else is going to. The cornucopia always results in the first ten or eleven deaths. If you want to make it to the final ten, at least, the second the canon goes off, you turn around. You run in the opposite direction, find a safe place to stay and grab any resources you see there. Only after day one should you circle back and see if a bag is left. There’ll be flint in one of the buildings. If you find yourself in that building, take as much of it as you can carry, understood? The flint is going to be a bigger help than you realize, and there will come a point when you need it.”

“Bolt away from the cornucopia and grab a flint,” Y/N recounted, nodding. “Don’t step off of the platform too early. I’ve got a chance at winning this thing.”

“I’ll send along aid if you get too close to dying,” Nikolai said. He stepped forward, pressing Y/N into a hug that they reciprocated.

As Nikolai pulled away, Nina stepped forward, adjusting a hair that’d fallen out of place before she stepped back.

“May the odds be ever in your favor, Y/N,” she said. “Do your best to make it out. I need you to promise me that.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Y/N said. “Promise not to watch? I’d rather not have someone I’ve grown to consider a friend have to see me kill others for the sake of my own survival.”

“I’ll be convincing sponsors with Genya, so Nikolai and Alina are the ones who have to watch and make sure you and Kaz don’t get yourselves killed. Good luck.”

Y/N turned their back, feeling some part of their heart break as they did, trying to keep their mind focused as they headed toward the glass tube that’d rise and bring them straight into the arena.

“Best of luck, dearest tribute!” Nina called as Y/N turned around. In response, Y/N only smirked, not acknowledging that luck was the thing they needed the most.

-

As they were brought onto the platform, Y/N looked around, trying to register what exactly the arena was. Buildings were missing roofs, had broken windows, bricks and dust strewn about the cobblestones. They were standing in a circle along the front of the city, overlooking what appeared to be a harbor. There was a collection of bags near the water, placed neatly on a table.

Y/N looked at the timer. Twenty seconds.

They looked at Kaz, who was doing much the same, trying to gauge what the arena was, trying to figure out where he would go when the timer went off.

“Happy Hunger Games, tributes!” A masculine voice boomed from somewhere Y/N couldn’t place. “There has been a slight change to the two-victor rule. In every year before today, there could be two victors from any of the twelve districts. In this rendition, however, there can only be two victors if they come from the same district. May the odds be in the favor of whomever deserves it the most.” The timer went off, and like it were instinct, Y/N turned and ran in the direction of the city.

The games would lead to twenty-two deaths in total.

All that was left to it was making sure their name did not end up on the list of the deceased.

-

tag list: @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone

[libidomechanica]

Like Tom Waits

A ballad sequence

                In war with wrong, and thou proudly     in their look, thered less window’s arc above thee, ye backe     betray’d, my temples you

your form, in hear of a flame, glauncing,     which delight will with so rafte me learnd a less the kye.     Then grot, and snake, art that

there you drink and also the ponder     pipe gives us official, and make me of sin on     you were was his payment

wavering on bonfirme: for weeds     must began to bright star! In their better. She is the sung,     which, erring to enjoy.

Yet even the harden, the said     the whose Christian coast; how shall emong, but thee to know Io     Pæn sing in the

rivulet is altar-floored delighted     merry skies, letter objects bene, to say, those whose     nigheth sides over such

you said, How’s marriage in fairest     of this so sureless eye, and earth to thee her loves against     or failing pool the

had nothing: a cloud. Moment, her     e’re. Like Tom Waits. Between; with you backed in her grows give it.     Our two webbes in her

we braes, delight. For lovelin-     like a wise made lie! Which from whome say my unkindness in     pass. I have never learn!

                The angers either sounder, wakened it. Thou     of pains with a feat that he weary wind, whilst I, that vnto my paying her songs and dreams     as soon was official, and false enought

to society? Say that my flocks might-have-     beens, then he discovers indicative did Matthew is fright stars its gleaming, the twine,     and Thou can my jest, since his scarce had

there I hearts your live. Him off my turf growth, and the     pretty maiden daily at moment upon desires. His eye upon thy deeds, and     sing, my dust ygoe is morn of a flame

give met you dost travel where you art; to the glow-     worm he me, thouse beastes eclipse the rightes, that both: white-plast not endurance for Glory;     ’twere as easily thee, with her

foot all. In the dapper ditties, thou know for the     harm no more thy ever is desolate; all help but amazement, elegant, had grave.     With you do we men in the love, but

a cast once my room the unblest and tall murmur     in Princes I thin? Though his skin, where in here behold to dwell that rauishing June’s for some     means blind-hitting wit, as true life’s sae

shy; for any sea-shell rose, tho’ lost on earth our     with whom Juliana’s skies; no short beside the rule, wound. Poore Child complainting not foot coming     rounded and flame, both day wits stiff

and bushes flocks them I reading reigne of Cossette,     were green me do frame and steam which her face! That long as the iolly shepheards, my circle     just as fasten angel in that I

never then the kitchen, and hamstring that feele     not what somethings, and if the Myllers rownde did he, in heart dead, each him to playe: sike delights,     when now I could feign, too, and

sacrifice, white limb of life of earth lies take thou know     Love, ne’er lot. How converted are many, in the braunches seare: the learne; thinks I sense sword     of grace, for tho, the silver knew it.

When being the my rufull ten finger, amorous     carbon monoxides, but grammer joy of his he jumped up in the silver selfe     destitute but, now burn—that mens foot

die; for his Daughter’s Daught, with me a minute goes.     To the house view, that putti-filled heart be well of spirits grew then, long breeze a hundred     manes, as the hill; but ah to thy verse.

Embroidered a bleeds their full brow, not forest want     to this? So though display thy deep; and wear and after its populous better night, his     he was perish beguilde; if those black.

                Where are just above the was mine.     The sight to me, but, trowth, I care I. Then to deare all the     joys divine? But each shall

is death from the year, my eyes were     uniform. While perquisite no further, away shepehooke     him his doole the

human fact. Nourish the world where     like to when the Muse, and me june needes his Oaten region     of sence before. Nothing

can that loue and in beauty     of her peeced pyne, to fear. It was smooth what a     catastrology, thought, wherewith

flowers. Sometimes renne always     the call, no run to young me as chords be pousse her will be     well apart, in theyr steepe.

                Cloud line carrying, like to weep.     Or as thine, ere I hae seed, that nys on the first to mine,     and hide my heart in they content to the streamlet all that     shalbe their sound: ye carts make iudge apple herse, no kings well. Her     abdomen and far, I

wouldn’t occur. As fair credit with     soft emotion, and stocke did no and of souls the would I     love. Print the gone? The man with Wine come thou aren’t. Her plight,     vpon a hollow’d after; presence the would I could not answer,     that no art, an’ down

her she protect your whole thou not     so far enought and daunce, for the with my eye. But nowe sadder     pleas, thou mountains of my left behind the doubtful was     spent? On me giddy, makes falling dawn that, if I couldn’t sure,     give physic to make a

sing. Smile it was more thou shallow     but if he toil’d by the flat, were empty could crying leaves     in stol’n away. Now gynneth ech happy could doubt na, lass     this full and was love it be witching a tower. For if     th’ other’s shambles,

but to you, so sad astrology,     the roused to the pillow leaves Me, Heaven! Where wall, no     room contain freedome sense flicker maid, and Matthew stopped, he     shepheards planet is the coloureth the expiation, like     them with powers dear Love

hath hath so we long the love, I     hae that thy hand, to sex. Whose enought climb the made himself     to stir it will go with removed to thinke upon decked pitie     now beneath thee sit on his rivers or the rapid tide     does lessons to outnumbers,

from that drop of all men, the     Garden of these pleasaunce no my head crack yours, and them in     that done to short the impeach’d still assayde, when being by,     cast wi’ mae nor what under out of thresholds in her brother’s     een, thered the sky

will go with a wide is the most     had learne of th’ effused thoughts of their reflection.     Robert Burns: wha wad speir your pypes shall dance, nay, images     fresh wine, as if it made of Poet stroke, that me down     in face foil’d, is gon they

knewe miss any sweet to a sight     returning his salt estarnging acropolis so perfumed     aboue to his kneeling the sexton to sparks, it muddy     as wont deuise, to free; be you sleepe stock the Maple witelesse     gaps I want to chased

majesty; and has a wild roe     bounty and visibly female. A sun, and season gay,     like hot first, or mattock- harden, that boy, after vertues     bands. That you said he, Let other. Her go, which when the reare     the Winter who am

no part: ev’n the dewe daunce. Got is     love comes a glimpse of Bessy at the road Hell. There everybody     sense, and daunce, the got is with sword outer wrote his     deadly she is toothpicked pitie augment’s place it withouten     legs, and never legs.

                Or seen, the not a woman well.     Only loitering; the mine. The grove, and ever lean out     of a space then my spinning pray? The zephyr want it should     me now it was salt—sweet under eyes from the Hunter’s nerves     were the same: or as they

ho the golden hair which I see     my secret police of his world thilke solar shoes. I never     scarce befall, there everlasting. Mask I try on. Nor     slave no incenser tedious carefull boughs, from the     breast down in some sent in

my balefull verse. That was the     land? Before meet; so unhappy where come, and to reache hellis     of finite heauen apace. And Dreams. So that ye cannot     love is gold, a lonely weel may say thee oft to lesson     desire still enjoy

the humble stake that diamond     embracelets wroughts of bright? ’Ve play: for the iron skill,     louing, streams like a bonie lad the large frost, and outlinesse. Holds     upon its dwell, lest kiss yours, and in nature buried under     of green the potter’s

granary plac’d? It’s up from Nelly     Gray, such a cut, and beautiful dreamer, who was night     last, his Daught comes in buskin fiers when flye: what hides grow old     at eithere should thine apparition. And gleaming, and as     which the saw pale. As the

fat did beauty, make hot day this     moment, and be done. Letting that the groue to swear as said     the worth asked for the boy’s pause, now, but shew his in faith cared     but all. Both oozing else the cot be far enought of the     gaudie girlond all night shall

glass the silent, and frog sits to     choose, who made in vaine, as you at the arrows of space I     sweat. Of cream? Peace beam. A cap of your deadest roads of Cosset     forth thee sleep: so the prison stars ago; and low: trip     no fear of thy hair when

not Percie how whatever I plants     make a masks do not marvelled with her roote: it was     official, and the pain. Or be sun was lover’s gray sharpness     of the for things that seems to whom all tene: to Linus, that’s     in they are we ground my

heart from our lips when the slowly     climb’d Eve from there in leap. And lyftes him kissed. The     gratitudinous plight can ail then the beams as that it is loving     and ivy buds, answer, pulling the winges of his     Odysseys and the tall,

then, come, now, dead and glade, and hithere     when the fragrant as thought it please, ceasse aduaunce: the churchyard     yew a blood from thy choycest there never ready still     harmless eyes doe were we, unless throat’s three weel ken I     perceiver of burnies take,

lurch and oil, roses crowne. While thy     choycest thou listneth the groundels frend ghost they some iouisaunce,     O princes if sadde with love hate. Come livery essence     ye be crown one, but the shutting. With sweet with thee to stay     for the sea. And I rove

who is my life a pearl the     scentered, but ah my great Augustus long for the ears to     hollidaye, as in head was was out of thought. They are pearl who’ll     fall of Nature love gentle whipped my labour absence coming     temples which wound his

fair eyes in one the falling beames     what when the did the streamlet vs of his brother.     For side my free. Come like antique good, but down his accustom’d     gritty as thou wilt not enough by choirboy voice not     full cries, forsoothe and therein

is higher to be in the     halogen over cast wide, and all they in the iudgement     open with powers at the light to the cented with     him his and wiser tend the plans they blinks my hearing still     kiss me, come boy’s patient

I still say with Cary Gray! Such     pleasures chatter the ready to store: o care I, who can     be heat, that carefull bring in the cause whilst eyes were have     slewe misted her steel by care now the lassie, kindly count     it, both looked alone? Such

beginnin’ wheel at me down your     proud despite of nature letting and so tendent my wrath     did loved a great bases for the edgèd steep-up heavenly     dews the woman, and in the shift, the winged cense and stuff wild     loves when my lot, far-off

from he is Jupiter, the view,     fair in Princes pallace turning roof of my sigh-tempests     moved by the burnies to the buried Sally Brown, and so     to be it learn! I would head justly soul to add yet ’tis     you adjacent. Even

the indent of further in her     was whispered flowers, wrung fluttryng with a light each mads the     left breath’—alas! The bare bulb soft air leaves instead of twelve     sweet a tiny both admire, would blazing each once more the     day; while over maid,—her

head crack on his humble this this     high complace of Love thought nor virgins’ kiss you, all must divine!     Speak as you this, that was nothing art the flower and     wanne, so those black, this, while, like to be entrance, so poor. Yet     though thee—ponder that slowly

cling that not, the sun. Blest I,     wherein you, or did go, and in an airle-penny, my     darling, charlie, her brothers sent from thy cunnin’ wheels. What     can overhead—leaving waue doth my cheek and tomb’s     What’s why yoke, art a sainte?

                If nor breathingness all your love?     Which euer, who am I. For laik o’ gear ye lightened fire.     Thy Bagpipe, or spring in the saw pale. Sprawled up their lips     where little, pitie augment’s wind, conceit didn’t below me, thy     adjuration. To feed

the was a Czar; and daunce, for in     it. And his vocal cords made the waterd it apart, and     other the land, and of poison one downe-right may not     endurance, this farther abdomen and all harm and you sae     shy; for I knows, in

desire had over than music     was more like to adorn: no, by Fate, like then still jealousy     from aboue to his devoured her breast! And I love doth,     yet strain ridles, as I glimpse of sence and let the different.     Hence of these long-stemmed plants

in her wind, brief at mercifully     gave, and oil, robert Burns: there I am anxious ligge songs     well, Your pypes rest, and trick! Devil’s end his gain drive I     never raye hey ho the lintwhite. Restored to resound to     adore thee: though thou break

from the Titmose sense. When weep through     his heart made of you art; to soon, and so sweate, like the Titmose     sense; or far in a bar-room an honor nough her hope-     house ye sees to be, in good vse doth post ruthful sign the     road many a moan only

cryes. How Holland a wofull     ten flies were fair eye-dawn of our jeering devil’s Elbow.     Has some euill hast leaves. Would have state, you heare, left my parts there     all his chickened laureat Augustus longer than a God!     Suffered with frame and the

lilies always,—they quill, attend     thrum, a mermaid now the debt which seemed to me—come loue to     set his the left its long, my head weeds diviner the day,     ye wadna been shack. Then within, thought upon that maken     breakfast, thou this? Do we

long earth this steed, as brimming as     my trick! In mount it was blithe arrow speak no weltrings passing     of spent? But the answer now, yourselves. Rain is every     inke on a tempest gods shee down palace the humble shed     a heaved a good minds are

cleft bringed wight, bene now lacks     her e’re. Sicker maid,—her history rip itself. Seeking is     musick mard by white bliss or crimson children: saying in     that hath the Lambe better that midnight, out the place, for beneath     doole thing of mortal

your life a pencil in. He     soil the mother who are love young? I will I dwell among     thinke on ear-shaped to each his day come he rude words beside     my control to him from base? To love. Little placed with got,     and ye’ll go no my garden

is instead of Poesye, wherein     your wander climb’d near me, I have t’ adore taugment. The     breast, teeth ay me! As widowed upon the devoured chance;     for, see, but coming race. And last could a fervor bowre, by     my pressions; we home; and

I sent in my love! A pretty     manhode brook the beside her, away in thee children at     a game o’ my kin; but my wracke, and strike the hands to faded     homes stirring rings; change cup hast, everybody left a     shake then lonely goddes

much plays beautiful, as those here     for his blush the sun itself to sleightye prise, where thee, sweetheart     can jumped up your finger mix with all the the yells and flash     upon you’re in deadly dress. Sicker mark o’ gear ye light     with leave that the pale flight:

for truth before with sadly blackness     must past, his full, and ioyes enioyes, to grammers hold it     on his glaze in the wind, he sparent, but I honour pyped     erst sun, and hamstring the will side, and vain, Alas! A     loyalty; I know Love,

the great Augustus long fared tune     you not with tears: and mortall must began, which from Phoebe’s     sae shy; for once morn. My heart, and dress—in the eyes. Gone as     this: hath high hyll, that the garden was turning, with a chief     and I hae herbs, waving

that voice is God, and, welcome must     has a Czar; and love. For it sprong, haue least a future feathe     in tears and gums. Among to this, though disdaine own disgrace:     nor the ods hath, with kiss that another reach, on earths, thy     tongue the left my louers shines

my life, entrailed then and loves     me power rarest on me—breath, wide our charme. It may say     Good, ye wadna bee, my doole, drawn by the offence. While     he’ll bring has good made And the day, as with surprise heare.     How I could not augment.

                When comes stirre move of radio.     Such length! You still make each man came if it mocke. Mid hush’d, cooles,     view any room is

eel-black room thy grieved that you not     said I, blue, silent smile, except my pictures, that made one,     i’ll bedight bard frog wades;

and bee, love, but a fee; mine he     cages of a flame, that die herse, cease in stole, were here I     hearts your world aught bloom, a

rain on you camst, flye: what all ears     ever—or else sweete Violet of its smooth day last a feat     their rooted in there. The

came. I who hold to stay the roses     obiects finding vpon a diet. Of lies to me, and     presence thousand fantsies

coming roof nor free o! We are     na by. Grieved I, was which proffering yet; became if it     shine, like solace thou shall

hem cruel starving fooles, then those     perpetual renew’d. Somewhere I am happy day     last, upon the bands. If

your sondry colours in thee please     in arms unite, knowing a language you toil outlive in     losing aloft in you

are. Ah, how I was build and before     merciless, and there on a Mower more I may kissed.     As a casements cool

cave shepheard, Pauletters with rough     not with ivory wrists his own. Myrtle the and sing     Though the man walk with this?

                The pears; men reede. Yet still art death     heart, thence use, that boy, carole Lombard, cooles. Is all you     say, now harden of Chigil in white, red stocke gan for earth     good by the host to put outright! One cannot remark’d the     rose ’tis of repulsion

another’s een, on earth—the day     complace you love your hairs, and since kind low! The writing vpon     a Mower to expect from me I bore the day, with alone     children at a winters with a feat the green the typing     to many a pond’s

surface. Grass; in shroudes, ne can     returns the too much greater Nymph that—loved a power the     far awa. He conceit of the unrabbited Night! Of     all then was when that she thou proud; your name, with glaunce to lovers’     love is requent sleepe

stove live without my words. Sword out     of loue in October, thrilling the that say that wild, and     drive, and makes me pain of feats are their roots javelin-like a     wisedome sense; or fame! Beloved the field: sore disgrace,     als Colins Embleme. Here

I used to be old it a dreamer,     away, and whole the chaunce, the honey’d rather range cup     hast of his fall other flocking in. I’ll afford me man     as them buried, for in the fault lies lit wild woddesse ay     grope among which loyalty;

I knowes not miss. Calming     help will makes my legs in the snaky Persius, that Perigot,     and mee: I pyneons busy with what the rarest trees.     Octave clock without reede. I woulds such for to herse, o hear     me? Her thee things be

unasked my free; some like a demon,     knowes most have sun. She made himself into a Greek’s     earth soft Catullus, so waist, and of arms, it leave tossed our     crossing peace, a penthousand flowers, and warm wet still to     loue doth use your will say

that least to all I leaves its still;     or else through he tale; and Leander time of mortall think     the half prevailed to any scorne of Death this senses in     the learnd I ail my lifelongs! Perfumed alone cure, awake.     A water, somethings

in my rymes of light. Every     that long far be borne of Nature’s verse. And love coming this:     Once your hand, we deep, and the last not, but the sash a soldiers     wrath doole, draw and in public honour maks you, and     sunny feet. The cops. He

calm kiss where I’ll ten flye: where with     gratitude, chewing and heart most would like pale-mouth in easy     dear except only a man, I have been. Have I broke     of a coming that are scattering spotted thou wonted     wound—for the bargain at

then, my darling, right kill! Calming     arms; but i should make again. From the stream, broad beside, eating     well, desire of recollection is what can make     a tiny rip itself into a summers tourne, the fact.     Those, thou would never birth

hairs, you do we long-wish’d-for even     now, to come. And, to perfect it very climb’d near; with     me at the hostile though she, I love, and ga’e youth’s stray’d, and     fragrant zone; shee, wretch, and finally shiel, and well in your     heauie cheat us become.

                And I keep it on her eyes the element, yes.     For you, bething cannot so far I choose and a soldiers wont what charms for the winter’s     bonie lass, long faith or starry hearts are

bottom perfect it was not endure. The flowers,     whatever which man anger that it scan, to the tap to me! Nor Dog Stars indignantly     ever yet a break from and daunger

late into a half—inch scared in crime? The other,     to let him take bad sees the gorge dim field: sore did Cupids bower. Heard with his Daughter     to die; and adore his prayse and

now, to feede that say whom I sit—ah, when kind there     shall dwell thee that length! Mid still I live, thy pain, and walk, and feast thing to want. Were t aught     tempt, but to a fish feede me, such art

the chasing plac’d, with smile, like flowers, and to pray     in earth that same, both may be the was his ladde with a few leaf, or through heards daught have never     yet whence grac’d to weete toward her rites

the Moonelinesse: all thee in shreds and has left     of that look at us nourish the sight to. Sweet hours do, and I love! You don’t let the     fence; and all ill deck is freshest hue,

and birds swaines imitate? And I have struck before     them noise and honey will, see what are gazing star is more shutting in a fox, daybreak     from white. But alarms, hey ho the

before. Alone along like eye-dawn of miles,     so by the eyes, I might to. And my finger studs; about all loue nowe sat on primrose-     banks teach one delight and do was my

fonder we branched be; nightingale wild so tyrants     in time of mine, no one of May, purfling, strange, and where I say, the far around those silent     been. ’St dwell whiter bay? Yet still

Heaven as trophies or thriftie but fient without alarms,     had lain is too; but know, or, louing, haue I turne to a finally Brown, by     While vertue and in cloute she rooms that love.

                There in my heart, I pity both steedes has-ke.     I have may be fall for a man, to fight up with with awakened clerks; but sweet rose. Peppered     at all I pawne you listneth the fountains were or loftie be; weel ken I ’d for Colin     marriage. Cold firmness ill beguilde; if the souls to settled food in dew distaind wide,     where I sigh of th’ other. Of

pines may be farther would not at make sollein secret,     tell youthes fall right into some I’m like a bedded long you going, whilst skies always     dare two year, a thornless trees, and homespun cover, dry where Beauty beauty and blesse     Poets that moment, though she this sorrow in bend? A day and vice. More thou for age there     the Mayfly is gainst my deather plight.

                Yet are thou get now is place that     he upon the door in the clot. An’ Charlie, he’s my cherished,     had laid garbage even in you’re tears that so much gifts.     At nights and poor to life, young Chevalier. And ruffled blossoms     you, to spy: her e’re.

                Trusting anyway toward doth ryse.     Great cool radiance not clear the floured in natures such a     brooklet, somehow, or other

woe: the right flouds through thou recall;     whose while I lay call her sike a millions you more the     same. That dawn of his souereigne

of your life-giuing well. And the     call in the coldly fling, to seventeen youthes fall for     than the time I sufferent.

Love himself wit still, louest for     green those, that does cut each made sugarcane sweet blue. There at     me so soon as place? To

be gayne: o what shame; if that the     saw his beds of the Monarching to his little, a strands     least, teeth ay me! Of his

love me in my birth hath hymnes     of death. You were we thy selfe desire to the day, ye     wadna been sae shy; for

none. But still helped to feel estraight,     to-morrow in these, and a water grammers for the saint’s     play; but. And some evening

gaped to my minded aside     and the dazzling throbbing and speir yourselves, and has a kid,     it was, and let him from

too much worm of a years do, perhaps,     as it and fed with honey-meal: and soul, the shepheards     roote: it was: love. Perfumed

alone afore: and watching which     prove over succeed? Theirs of those betray’d, Whilst help but free;     how Vlster wroughtless from aboue

to repent, with tears, unless deeply     plants; each true-love that mine, to sweate, for no show. I     follower, the sun is high,

and a casts to themselves seated     in flowing former Catholic schoolboy. Do we can make mine,     and legs, clicking no more

an across there in her treat for     I must bears as a dandelion of the wintry tempt     them so haggard and for

meriment. Listed o’er to run     to hye ’tis of heaven, his betters or thee; for a     Hence bereft, where did start.

                But and as walk about you love.     Alike to the who stay. Full speeds must be near smell those break.     Force in thrall! Fairer that April’s lips in the angers either’s     kneeling offer o’ yon round my bosom strategy?     Some conditional future

me, and it was meriment.     Dido thee! Up afloating with crabbed cakes my ownes abyde,     uch wound, and, what continues to the grove, then I perceived     evening and wound. Our plan that we have been sae ye as     somebody hour; we we

thy delight, or loving knife is     widowed you that bosom’d slipped my hear, the foule vnbodied     of the wreathing at the night, what passe that moment while     my Nelly Gray! To Mercy has a decease my head, and     digits, as my obedience.

The dew did often did     thy heat to love, how fast! My deepes, there was of my wracked,     grenade-gravid, not a fervor born to labour trailed wight,     even the drew on, and and sulk where your love thee, and hardly     heards ioye, how Holland

dry where is a winter-assurèd     of the open; I fill were in leaue: his most him sad, it     is weed there’s jealousy, that’s face, and the greene in his     thy yoke, then Melpomene that your whose thing eye, and morn. Would     I shear of absence bereft,

and dance unkind; among too     much length, yet is not then if th’ effusions were floating     his deadly dress; and the twilight will I was meek, crooned,     wandring the measure out of the Grashopper something     again? Nobody how

on thee; for whole earth got, and to     sleepen love, nearer the hinny he’ll shut? I am think,     that made it no unctions spinning no more a-roving ivy,     two year, in a milk tip is blood as he golden gifts     ash. The beetles,—blind-hitting

the blestone when flee from sleepe     thy strike syrens in it and sing, as if some I’m indoors     opens mothlike, like part, but to given denied to heart     that dark cedar, thy cheek a faery’s real rain rising buds,     and honey-meal: and fears

berth, so do I move of Cosset     for all the spied: mid hush’d, coy jean Arthur with me at the     Muse of you sleepe for the Hunter of my shiel, amuse me     the piping leaves complete. Love a meet a lassie, kind because     me were are blesse by

love’s no odor but where in throat’s     three moods: not forth a shaken as long-stemmed plan that its gullies:     we groan: to see my sense. Smoking of most in sight by     side her, like spring on the pillow’d after in upon     the find his looks adorn:

no, by morning’s deep; who waste away     toward doth roof the best of war with tears, and the boat they,     yet, in the wrough the superior dust ygoe. Moving and     I brough a winter’s rain o’ertake me of Natures over     whole light o ioyfull of

aurorean love always,—the kye.     Down for their traytor Absence is fond engagement of late,     for lordly any haruest fruite should’st stars are sight night berries     glasse, the present you wake for than the knew. Their prise, that     first of the wake. And what

to the ley, the hae ane wandring     Phoebus race. In October, thou was an of our spirits.     As virtue, lighted, as the rocky priestlike happier     dew; and arrows ere is dwell that carefull boughes out     forever! As yet your

night while; a grown the sibyl stooped     over who had to do with rod or can came at playne, my     orphan seed. Sit smiling line I sight to put eloquence,     before, by flowers at a words daughter make a want too?     And is just beloved

a wounds of the grief; thou can heard     come, and a new we wild and allows give, to thy the laddie’s     sapphire-region of might of a lad weed the     Watch the making again! So high up their fair tho, thus corpse.     My heart and loves a snag.

                But live, the West: which you are may.     And that you weep to sleeping made our lips, and Love, I have     ledge of Poet strength too. We tell ever deceitful troop     am I sojourned medowes did see there all tene:     or as Dame now each him

no perfect story, the head and     you pass mine in my hear me? And in my car, like hast, noy     gynnes to-day, or is widowed you say the Mower higher     burther, were palely love is all of Nature, I     have striue, such decline, for

still routes to travell of green the     branched with goodly ocean’s reach trouble ground answer to learnd     a lesson former maks you seëst all her grown toy. And all     thee giue but still she discontent, still, in for well our round     then to warmth,—I pluck th’

earth’s an expansions as my     daught, though a water-silent been vast, far-folded mine arms!     Burning in I would be a philosopher’s done, such     stronomy, but ah! Carole Lombard, and seat the Hunter’s the     steep by us to know.

To be entrailed took my freedom,     not warm, but disaster lawns give you known throughout the     honour absence his own heart bottom of such a cut, a     halt Not, writing hands. Like delight o ioyfull speech about     it shine above, like world.

Or wander’s delightful Fairy     as well have t’ adore here: so to thee does me some was     loves insubstance grasse aduaunce of burns the seems to see my     darling. The momentary. Thy voice, the golden pilgrimages     shows in the while

perceiver rose in the merely     I dreaming gladde: when Winter- assuraunch. Where buryed is.     Like they quill, I will be far I changing tongue-tied, speak—that     Percie how rare! What in at niplet of the tenor of Earth,     for nought, to thy gloria

victories like a tiny both     hindward peace and in shalt ycrouned be to love could it     no mortal you enter, as true golden pilgrimage is     must ransom a human facts. Have almost, his stede, if those,     who leade is not need not

augment’s place? Till the ceiling an     expansies shallow, the other’s Daught, after stour; ye geck     at then form divine! The gently yet evening there shadowy     thou will never ribs, for truth and find you allow; but     fed on; sighs behind the

cried—La belt, and flouds of aurorean     love the day, and flocks forst wanton Nimph forward doth her     works are blest, but now become. Till doost imperfection be     so: let all time of earth wine where beneath of chill, I would     feign, and ioyes enioyes, let

breast. Nor witness its songs and oak     leaves of light, o ioyfull boughes out offence. I following,     as I haue no night and since you your hand orient     wedding, the fonderous and they all hell rounded. The close     in the spring spends up

a glass to blessed her e’re. A grow,     with for miles to my greefe I dye, here Gods in all ears     to comes of souls fly to heauens high composed heavenly dew.     Ah Will. He curious jewel-like herdgrome, such color. Procure,     you promised to pass.

Cried—La belt of a’ the Chekhov     stores, that this work. Though an infant ring. If your cheere, pleasaunt     to sweeter the cause I’ve alone doth roof of driftie vertue, awake.     Lightning in her sounded by the pain which from and bred,     yet remote be the end,

but seems to outnumbers, till renew’d.     My darkness is not like sprites of such love remembers     breake youth to travel with bucklesse sorrow seize me a’;     but sweet for the silk and warm in my shadow of hem, click     th’ other. We tell

everything each his hands throng, wittes     such condition. Innumerable, excess! Only     I did into the new moon the deathless fair creating     fortune masks do not see the worthy oracle of greete,     but scorching slow but knew.

                At the fountains struck before he     dim curds and list in her thee thing to their pinions busy     thriue: neuer known that watch

at a garlands of flower stour;     may-wreather changeable, excellence come, and bosom’d that     with pointing crown’d, and all

time I brough not remaynes but     here, is fragrant-eyed, in delay. After pour’d informed in     his praysen babes the sash

a sainted midnight; but amazements     thy pipe givers wheat recall; whose soul of day complayne     to our souls of morning’s

eyes; and ever this, tho’ the     May we they lay thy lute mid them noiseless, becauseth     me, Yet hours not how on

they’re we their glories, innumerable     in her imagine you dost him sits own. A monstraight     have from my eyes did

stars it teeth and drink to young     Chevalier. And the cosset, when my from an across they look     ye not fewell the house,

no one here one, too, and like to     be the into whom Love! Some ever it, as if a flame,     glaunce before have they layes,

that, to weeten my belly, hey     ho gray she giue hem cruel stars, that our face. That I chanc’d window     flower octave clouds

do flowers and runs not a shake     the many senteth now a scholes, and Philome was a     sclendency of hair way said

her cheek a fane in shame; how I     pity be two life at the silver-white fears re-sighing     that if the view is pleasure,

his gray, she liefest book off     me and the shepherds feed. Please in buskin find: but each true-     love so beauty, like to

be invited to choose again,     it mate’s composed her and blood cause in a shiver of     meriment: my very black.

Who know, or, soone afore: loue thy     noon is hands again while toys, or starry skies are my     horsement on without remote

what and and so hand there shadow     round the pain; or season blue, since though the center instead     perfect stones my cheek.

                And if the beside my Maud by Cupid; and eyes     were passion far and honour absence, hand, and buddes to-day was in thyself in fugue     acropolis so those gentle with

me the kye. Imagine yon park, and the close in     sutures, the bare bulb soft delight, of death-pale uncertain bending—not, lovers, strain and     a pond’s playnts, and bell agreed the dry-

tongue-tied, ah woe behold up in who cried Ben he     went side. Now Ben he was want I would raysen babes that large a fayre silk and wonder at     happy in the water blood as reach

his pink the God wild. To that I lover, and in     legs spring; heau’nly fathere you are; like to her; now, a love the same go with kisses     to loue no more, as bright to prayed by

the rocky caves. In the edge thought: a mazer ywrought,     where fit for a year and no pipe gives beareth in ever can dancing Boy, sing, perhaps     me do frame and her growth, I deemed

the stars, answer now soft delicate balloons resound     to dwell; it was in Badajos’s breaches. Thief sae shy; for laik o’ gear ye light to     Stella looks his arms of her elfin

grot, there even in face! As brimming the words flight     the sprawled Devil’s life’s lowers of miles to watch’d—the kiss thy reason clouds of loyalty;     I know. Smoking which happy men,

whom Juliana’s scorch’d not so it sprong, my hart lou’d     and marked haue gayne. Kill! There as due as find; among the realm beyond my filled to stoupe, and     see, but a narrow was, and into

me! From the bonie, blood full Music was note the herse,     to knowledge the living ouer the waste away to vary frown on their slave no soul when     her graunt to miss. We are merci hath

hym payned. Each other passion breath’—alas! So     praise and what gars you aren’t. And heare youthes fancie, as the sea. And against myself is     wellawaye: ill comes and then my sent moment

upon the could but cough,—an’ Charlie, he’s mine     head, but she wealthy incense and tell me wild sad mortall be two hour swaines my death     his legs, so long ygoe is from the fact.

                Make antique vows, for laik o’ yon     rotten. But who had I will hath her wish the rose and warm     Love is Man, his blooms of

child; here her e’e. She, I looking-     songs of her she scent moon be right lay thy less? For shadow     roundelay. Yet the dull

substant of the shalt heauen so euill     have struck before cold are apart in dayly, once strike a     smile together. Then was

stones with thy brave a thou to meet,     what is almost me believe a gift: why should nothing pool,     the steep; and lines my tear

come, given fact. Along your formed     by the morn in your hair which element, and I loue. The     years as straight, breath friends her

can sail it fast whale’s tie, make thee     chaunge my heauie her eyelids, grove how much-adored my friendship     aduaunce, Towne sun itself

lick thee of my tocher’s Daught up     with second leaf, or still unmeet flower and you, sleepe doe     clouted Creamed of the first—

my head of flowing, charlie and     sweet seasons new-appear, like to heauie her went in mee, in     her wit. Gray, hiding year

and my hear the you wide quiet     to be in earthquake his yeeres; O see the arrow she     cooles soft delight, instead

of it. We saw I once is     fresh Cuddie, these tune. And soon, the spring dance, but now I was     the day, ye wadna bee,

my owne very loue and lacke to     be for her, saith sweet. Sharp like stounds with both sea and did oftens     about the sudden,

for Glory; ’twere can vndoe Dame nature     rich ruby wine, the shalt under at has not afraid     I’d sloop in two. Wall

so heard, that is a good look on     my memoree. Alas! Clean, and gazd on the sedge is the hill,     accorde not endeavor,

to sex. The stairway again. But     why heat from the facts of courting Poet stay. That flowery     mountains echoes

rangemented for lovelin-like     me in the rivers but thou can be cast, sighing on head     of the flocke gan to prayse?

                Where I shall nighten soft air face.     But Colin, Colins Embleme. Hey ho bonilasse, then I’m     sure take pale, and poor but

the dark-cluster’d informed of Poesie,     kind, I am happy days long as I touched and fall forlorn,     of a virgin-choir

to the drops from thing alive     even as poor. It was mine ransom alone can speak—then,     Turkish new glow-worm he

is solitariness, but ah     Mecænas is tenor of many time and favour lose all     my lot, far-folded mirrhor,

and sight one side and cold never     learnt how dolefull tene: the bases for thou shall nouring     your most once use, treat

Yet hour beames of they fall in     their darling, as my Jean, which to me his new men or passion     of the land her wounds,

and sweat. No time I bow’d after     a traine. In love your loving tear-flood I sufference is     no one to the old toil;

and his Odysseys and wonder     doe, but I had a cast- iron lung. I used soul where by     my lasing and marching

loving together am I!     Colin, Colins struck one cannot be kind because or every     we day, or cast-iron

pot. Renne farre outward true-love     that our gyrlond all the smart, and grave as he kept, sing of     twenty—five bee, and make.

Not, love you knee, all the greefs augment.     Ken by the of that woman, said, No, no. And tune, in     little part: love witching

a lady-sisterile perceive     that unnoticed&that joint thy selfe on thy     A long, with raptures.

                That rich ruby winges vntil, dye     would ne’er like thee, wretchere. I would not see never left pulse,     for Stella, say, No. And thy sweet voice together, least thou     ever hissing pool, there

should Love had I was out of the     tale remaine, and sea; then began, who has been sae shy; for     in me the shaping knife into the mould long what and upon     the pond’s surface. Like

to the harbor. Place of this rapture,     your chain-swung cense flies to you loved where! Of heavens! In     favour lose one dozen member in London, yet free side     and Master of glittering

on her he happy where are     rich ruby-budde, reliuen not remove they do delight decrease,     since, no my miserie! Ye wadna been sae measure out     in brawlie my fingering

hearts are deaf and poor, ye snufft and     so sooth, grin of Love’s nest, or like his own, and like his rose     your mouth, I leave: but, trowth, I can houerly unasked meadows     sear!—An’ Charlie, he

head in my lament, ye back     carefull was been sae ye her, may smell, be not attune degree     the place that beseme and for euer hearing hurt you algate     lust of a confess

all the nightly wont in rymes     on Kentish down in was wet with Cary Gray! Far, I will     mask I try on. In the gave, make. But, Tibbie, I sent and     love that your kiss me, but

then? ’ Patter of control to let     me the moor; then she half- drown the moth one seen the coming     into a sing toward and seen of happened senses guided     bosom all mine. Love, does

no one side by our arms sheer winds     to gain at four captained, fast wide, from thyself alone     at thine another well, by comes! With wonder at hath doth     the christalled with thee

or honour maks you are blossom’d     grin at the spring imitates. And I dared. It’s up from     a thou granate forest borne, the cruel immortality.     Again doth in this doome.

                Of dark looks sae pawkie is; I marvelled on his     brought, serving part of plunder her with old this souenaunce to adore his owne wrinkled haue     I pyne follows The tenor half-mushroom,

imprison sadde Winter will, resembling     resplendour heardest their soule vnbodied of perplexity; then, my extern the sibyl stood     bits your prey. I would certain glisten

slowlye laye, wherein my shadow once is sike and dry     where does cut each tide, and steaming. Devil’s endless wind remember stepping kisses; which     I fill will get a rich and cold, althought

nor smiles away so your truck before there     banefull verse. Is the songs, learn it, sincere that bright as my cryes, cold Muscouy; if thou suborn’d     in it, to see himself to be

surely taken plants there alone chief; but hark the     true caught to claye, and gazd on the spiders sent you, all thee, wretched; how oftentious light.     The gloom, honey-meal: and thinke Nature

lost? But as thousands, for laik o’ gear winds shall I     taken of her waft its them by sides full verse: thou was left their arms! Where yet I rise, now     ye shepheard Lobbing alive, your price,

who made his free from those black look the flood expansion,     joy and in the stour; may-wreathereof spirit bough the shed over well the year. Every     sun far out one display? Whilst Ben

heart in long which I then, keen less? On the gentle     crush on Billy’s breach him kiss and the noiseless in me, in the sweet flowers behind     thou sighing else for their roots again

all of that was sprites in her which, can give in     our sound: ye can yet ever image; but soft decreased, upon the gracious rich and belle     Dambe. Is you said I althought, and pleasure,

the dew did ofte augment. Trip no friendship that     room. Till unmeet deceased those voycest thow it was left my greater the land, its other,     sing And never when you that not recall

men’s message of virtues off the mother hair,     and feast tongue thy tongue causing wash of Medicines herse, might of dirt is you are two,     containing anyway to vary from

the rose I leaned as I glide by zephyrs, strengths of     a tiny both display lasing moon, be well their way herse, chewing the dark breaks the faint     brings; changing hearts, in the stooped over

make me now, dead anither icy breast. And like     praise to be going wilt though all the Titmose soule, wounds shall he went to men, thou must pause,     now each him kisses every the early-

rising strawberry skies, then, younglings harmless     deede, the dull substance shot another’s laws. Marmalade ourself, and white, red roses can     pleasaunce not yet—ah me! And unmated

birk and lyeth with mery thinks my face not the     sweet viewers belied in a forming loth, whilst eye: let still han thought I must quaile, and     I thence would makes from his complain. Near

and Mercy, Pity dwell: that day. It was, and to     high such miracle-tones of teares of frame? Why did love grownde, all in his thy priestlike     a bonie lassie, kind wind and clothes flowe!

                Though her e’e. Or season her grow. Sing at the humble     sadder pipes may be not, like there your sleep. She wounder abdomen are life—I learne;     thin, stick a salamander’d my dripping

throw, one sped to heauye heart to her will never     dead, his sheep do hide to windlas soote aggies. Your mouth’d pretty maid wilderneath gossip,     scarce espied: mid hush’d, consort to life

a party? Then ever such easily the captain’d     the lassie, fair rising be wood, and the mouldst the lightly wont songs and laid grow. Colin     silently ever scarce espied:

mid hush’d, coy jean Arthur will I wote, when your with     what crawled by cold hill; and the present you would learne of palely and thou shall iudge, as     you were, and prophet dreeriment: my

vertues short the could acquaintance shepheard swayne, and     my heard straintes, has not winds as doolful pleas, the stood by the youth the her the wasten     angers sheepe: now his betray’d, for me.

                But, if thou need between year, or thy selfe despite.     We had see one anothers should be my deade therewith my darling, charlie,&c. Sighs     so naked at e’en; i’ll bring together

rose of the earth for a quarter. Beaumont and     the tremes eas’ly the margeness beyond, or seek out of nature smoke from real as     ligge song neuer head, but plenty; the

beasted me he meadows in whom all hath now for     not, the city, Peace, and our hands as their tunelesse the pride open walking mind. How     looks frog wades; all not here I loue did

tame. But my luve o’ coin well, be not to leade, and     love had leaue forest May of you those their reflection of irksome was was a creating     with a passion what makes and be

sprites, and underneath the returne thee with worm     he measure, let me were mind, it’s no one splendour hours; nor compassion—for when I met     with his legs in our path things of a

crescenter of your converge to story of our     live it was not a house people fall, tho’ the world came these lattice-light and of true-love     hath, wither, like athwart the hear thy?

Fairer that watch that take the Chekhov store, she same     grove, and smutty jest: whitherward fast with you, Who fear something like their thou euer knell of     twelve sweet in rising of a worke my

life, for pure long hope no souls fly to be she color.     But who did streamlet and braunch once so deformed of finite passed five you not! Dissuade     of the wight, and gilt from the final

end, but night returning; no leisure passionless     maiden growes to be, my darling, like delight to tell. If spring in the insides     over sapphire-spangles, while

together much refined, ere you going, my love nor     she tale; that kills the simperfect past lands with burnt round. The lowly fruite away in the     grasshoppers should but an expanded

from the field that make the travel where thered to     Pindar; and like there like a iudge their will obliquely runs zigzag toward to meet below,     beating too soon, thought to pay her elfin

green dwell the level with awake unto dance,     hard and fixing sod; the before my sweet below endeavor, to his new thought by no     friend; now it’s not Love the learning came.

But Colin made the centre plant in the vale; then     wide, I can ever dew display on the strife are first could can I gang crew; and things shepheard     see, arise, and heart, and high such

carcane swallow, the laid garlands once complayne. If     the iolly and grinning by, behold are alive it or he hall after to the West:     sad friend; now gynnes to-day as I

have new men or priestlike petals find you were mark’d     the brance, that make any good to be allay, stay, until thy breast down his lady-     sistering of higher belly, hey had

deepes Lobbing and the dust, like the air, and they     could we wild: but, trowth, and landing has a snag. Robert Burns: leeze me oft to thy followed     up in thrall! Two people, out of wit

stray in the left his payment with weary will in     wood, ye wadna been sailed the shut quiet ribs of three-inch spared to Hero, no, no,     Dear heart, e’en away that hide my race.

                On your kiss and warmed ocean’s realm     of your kisses; where: so were are melancholy numbers     quick a salve wherever!

                Yet even—the edged my straw so slower Damon     sun is souereigne of rose presse no lute, the end on can overbear that necessary.     Million of my every virtue, he’s my highmost what’s find orient to Stella is?     He mavis sacred brance, and think through,

we wound, devourites in your words and I think     and fresh, and conquer all had veild team floats up afloats are death. Alike petals find; no     shrine, of sweet more the Mower more taughter the driven: I hold might to love what I will     not as tyrannie? Then to you may give

with its mild; her abdomen leade, the boat one hands     me to the saintes, to fight kind love. More poet is why head the close teares flaming,     pulling payne thee giue moist fitt ne breast wide, so doubted Knighted, rival it pleasaunt spring     on that love in October, and

low: trip with thy gifts. The poets they were blessed, or     foot, obligingly flowers, wrung of pain. She is gray, hiding resplendous light, or if     that he would not love pitiful and tug at they lose in at noon my cruel; for through, though     the colourless fancies dwelling breaks

run but mutual day the fact, exquisite. My     heart, one night win; with its water, somewhere or others of mortals, whose enough the winds     the far-off, on a spring be warre. Two hours loftie bitter rusts, and grieved thee any nail     it anyhow listening hast your child

sad a cast—but, trowth, I doe miscast. And its pictures     not marr’d and me in thing gracelet gainst my wrath did he, Let other Jonson now     she ’d sail is scull wasten to life move of the Sunnye beheld up by so sure, and Love     hath the fact I could know I carefull

bough a pure shepehearse. Which I thus fruite     shepeheard can sense. Nelly Gray; then the whitely stage, as closed, ah woe can these empty could     be only a cut, and tombs there’s vernal, I constellas soon was in heat these dew     of highest in ridles, blue. The evening

from an anything and thus face sent pluck the     list thou mourne there. He gay, which to the gayne. Said to deare. Singing cloud lines embrace. So by     the stead perfection of me in good to sleepe with the Chekhov stored thou should a man kept     only a movingkindnesse: all we

shall we we slumbers quiet wood echoes from the     sang, as if sadder to though chidden recklesse constraight to the witeless roses of     a vacant hill safely did bright the same. Yon her hear thy, consort of the board, that, theth     frame: for everybody sense; or food,

on the booth as due as far be youthful troop am     I! Months go to the dinghy, has thou shalt call meet forgotten pypes as we weepe     art goes to dressionate flood or come, and ever far that vnto my grieslie ghost she garden     gay, whose who for good many a place

the call it pleasaunce be called window at bring in     October, then abate, for shee does cut each him livid: how Vlster will I do leaue Loue     to high. That makes the Winter of my libertie? Knew your gyrlond allow but as earth revealed     in it. But their voice caustiks, blame

in this mine. And then black save in vertue and when I     wants, whetherward from the plot: we are that I in her and on its water that having     pray is always of Heaven rain, to free. Have rest, blestones of your truest-time wasteful     Time did brings to the milk tip.

Resembling through,—an’ Charlie, he’s misgouernaunce. Or truck     on her dayes that dark December stour; may-wreaths burnt as that sweet rosed, then the tender’d     the scorching dance foil’d, is gone ’tis you, as realme of my lot, far-folded mirror, whose ribbed     us of our absences. In

Sylvia they would like a city you haue thee a ��   worthless body left the God will the bears in ordered a tree of the jewel. Symbols where     I hear, my dear. That wear thing and there in leap. Or Vesper, that leaves and gazd on the shepe,     hey hand oak leaves the shepeheard, this

grave, you are letting wide. Embroidered at the grass     fell into the shaping on that not helpe I crau’d the world; but not ended to any     way while herse, making fared to him limit of sleepy arms when Winter it a defunct     truth thee, sweet view, robert Burns: there wildly

sheddeth in shred out the flocke, for no my heart     made us poor bliss, now is inside, and Gentle can make out; but. So long indignant     ease to the made thee bynempt: yet saw him like to Willye is dwell of Bessy at large     halogen over receding heard

Apollo sing, the fog. And Echo contentimes,     instant of the same ring. And higher viewers of the angels do stur; in the bushes     have new men and left the honey’d rathers strengths of lonely glad the lake in my soul are?     There I followed and yet the rotten

woods full byrds and snaky Persius, that diamond embraced     you said her navel in their heart. When some leuin shack. Thy should, o how she differed at     me a sigh heere all the sill, we sat down, with then most predict that richer path, bleed. When     called her looks his pray? It’s up a glass.

                He call, no part, where, my judgment.     And unmated is. Below me, comes to be sprawled in the     bonie lassie, fair starward

peace, the presence; and again and     no pipe his to dote; nor all the her heart, let no one speech     about the waylefull

verse. My foolish eyes I used they     then, must be waters borne that so bad the nomber your words     of the twine. Nor the while

on me do thou misse, as not     exactly, whilst so bad the night into the morning, my     balefully down in here.

Down form, in who in the colours     abed and grown, by just don’t wan or their tune thou, faint away     toward sight. Moment moments

of high such valid reading     anyway, death the roses every year, is far away.     Then my moan, receives, where

marchives of a desert their     skies, inter but ah my Emma lay; and has always.     Unfamiliar mouth, I left

them still down toy. All other change.     On they at here a negative did brightly me, but, trowth     to stick a greate showed to

the beam a straight, or as this     yerely beauty shalt the fire! So little while he mark of     chere. My death? If nor my

souls fly to social pageantries,     that woman well: well apart, let police of miles, that     she went, in hart did love

my horse I fainting witty Ovid,     by a grave that drop a grin of high, be time is fond     false in arms; but i should

refuse we while every in the     presence of lies; no shafts sounding glacier where you saw. It     is they do delight that

midnight. Whose silk and victories, that     kills the yellow jinking without depth, when their goal of Nature     smooth with Cary Gray!

                ’ Lost in the sweet envy, robert     Burns: what nowe sadder time to walk into a hardly and     I ail my life. With soft:

and, wretch colourless sweeter fayle?     There where flouds do frothy tears the dress with a full but     this I withere death, my

friends and hamstrings I do leaue: see,     but is a kid, its soul- tormenting now. Colin fit, yet     everlastic-gloved whenas

that’s in were wonted withere     old the sheepe: let now the protests towering that’s a blooms throught     up from the mought with ache?

I feeling, charlie, her hair when     I see a crowning unknown and in favorite and tree, who     wilt the woman, and like

a blur, a Film Fun laught can heals     the way to dwell agree: where, no harms of a saint’s where Beauties,     Giue moisture smooth which

worm he is in they she cock the     birdie’s starward to him standingly—a godly pride: the     brough the rules when the day,

and answer to enthral or gall     that years ago; and hold vp thy let none. Long faith doth that     no one here he noise

precipitate of years nor smiled, I     on thee, who but the morning as I could have as an     ominous bread; now she bell.

                Where came frost, in the opens mothlike,     O beauty slumbers fall, to pay herse, and lace open     walked the world when although

live itself to see never saw     through the plane, how I have never sun, and more its populating     brain, throbbing and

under settled me homewards     twayne: the did behold thy brace; it is a Lambe in girl, who     was night returns too; His

Psyche tremorse? Lye, and a newe     drown ankle glass o’ Ballochmyle. Which has as repress-     gang brisk and flood expansion.

Yet soone wad learne of Death in     ev’ry tree of the ceiling their souls of the year. In out     the street, the did. For no

they some other, which wounds of high     and we wildly spare frae tapers flocks on earth forward heaven     above! The air that

not deare. And allow; but hark, I     heard him fu’ dry. Thereby, the has been moment whilst flows, had     not, which loyal Life: they

spoke you up then, my woe, be absence     is no other pull; fair-lined by her sike morning round     of these day, ye wadna

been a very black room in thee     a flowe as through I must quaile, like Nature like worst fears,     accounter’s wind. Such pleasure

taugment only my owne writing     as the morn in hart dear pretty swear, and till the knowing     rills. My fill with the

heare captives, yet with sparkling     day go in dew did nowe sat does teares experiment.     Over can speak of legs,

spice had seru’d they borne shall mirrors.     Its so gaine, waiting to feel estranger, to list in     the orange young Chevalier.

Slides I told might of the would     I were was the believes than his found, and slip frae his. Colin,     Colin my night in

likes of song art a Monday. Your     queen off me and check’d geese of myrth not me, auise the world knowing     ran, although great was

John. When the sweet hold tombs therein     yon park, whether is mote be my lovers; and wonted minutes     the bargain and stream,

from an apple to me from the     tremendours along as if disgrace me his. Warm Love, the     boundless the Gods withere

walks, and brings, like that’s happens     insubstantial for hissing to rent worth the lassie, fair and     heart is dear, will song, he

heath and time drew on, and May?     ’Sie scatter thing unforests towers! Beside you’re tell.     A carpenter your proue.

                Visitors more the did lie drown ankle glassy     darling, my owne sun could weary will together, none liue braes, delightly, who was weaving,     thought, would. Whose darke: the had taugment.

The wound—for shall emong to feet, like to seely     glad I suffering wash of Love, to given the watch to stirre move, the swans the humble and     steep, when hair rose I lay. I wont greene

is Jupiter, clean, the death’d proue, and stocke to love     him out of the glyder, when altho’ wretch, they sentence. Where he meanings do no mortall     to thee, starlighters with frame? Dwell: well

have that the has chorus led both admire, is truest     breast is all her blushing devil’s light be brough that Plato I read not to thee against     every think two love. And lies of

a’ the driver. Now Ben in shroudest stepping of     his courts, and wrinkled heart, if Loue that hear; your lips and for yourselves, and love is in for     fight king. Here I’ll vow I’m afraid. The

only wake the violets the fat didn’t make amends,     now my Maud, you be thee—cheere, whom Julia’s light’s happy days. Walke in the waited garbage     even after than whom vertues both

look down at dark, and look ye not remor breast thou     please my Maud, you to enter of your smile and looks Anthology, then it grew both best,     that, and in person who in the feel

needs fight, hissing base and I shrieue: neuer that charm     in two recite the call burrow but no one down at the Hall-gardener Fancy e’er     sae me agayne, much refined, that day.

Who is most stepping their veil was said, It gets boast;     how can I for then live found again: and ivy budded Tyrian, thou black light wild Yuie     twilight at not the learned with good

manna dew; and labour train o’er the back th’     effused the chrism is or ever grace and pass milk and drank your because is, in which     hair, and in a garlands bloody birch

through that full, and outward from the garter but a     message of Medicine sang:-she wouldn’t say Good, defining sure, the cold how quiver bread     of the morning’s destitute but him

once tell thinking for any lies or more living     wreck’d geese of the present legs in the beaded home: thou walk all those that no unction primal     this worke my darling, right bring. The

east: tis tinct, that your parting for your straight hour body     and with the surface is wealthy issue beneath, to feede, thou black, thing glacier where     night, and weary of hel, and Dreams, and

so it has not grew as was meriment. Flaps     awkwardly help but to see what orb crown’d, the state, and rest, still makes me so? But ah to see     my crimson. Will last so as they even

your soule was with my heather lot. In the returns     streamer, who in the shift, a clasps and mornefull verse. Being base and pounc’d to runway     like out of they look strange, and love

discontentedly I view, descendent on the     ways of life, with you were thy beareth from the clock of leave: then store what spent in earth’s an     easy dearth asked for there little months

go that morn of the sport which he thonder and hold     him sing on the talke; with the small seemed nothing lyre, when not falls melodious moan, receive     that ocean out to till straight of

a salve can hope, I can, Horace, thy soul weary     we dwell of leaves of this way, and so the air, that euer her spirit bows before my grassy     darling a minutes, he lips

renunciative did stands, that the had in day. But they!     Where began the list of the haunting hue? When listneth this, then, and die. Mad Martial, I     wanted birds at my darling, for him.

                He ’ll be the lily centreat.     Not bee: and tune. What was whites too much delight; then to enjoy.     All in watery sacrifice, which loyal spouse? Dew,—     and excellence of the

kiss your children store his thy payne     thou iolly to some kiss her both infection shops I love     is them in whisper, and on Sally Brown, the neck, do the     laies his yerely bene

there is sourselves seated     by love is inspire, the forever! That art as the roar     a true? This moth. Now thou see. And birds sing of his grave fear     of his the silver branches

of a man—so glories glowing     appeares; O see this new though the head the deepest     rich in the may morning of a’ the fetish yeere on that.     Upon the Wolues, of

delicious carbon monoxides,     but discontent voice no leisure off—of cornflowers     are blesse now bring. Every inke upon the inside me, and     degrade! Of please, whetherward

from sleeps him from good vse door.     Somehow, but weld thee, year, with Wine come the loue you so     tyrannous, now, and, with queintBellona in the lustihead     the banefull byrds at

me go with with a full speech turne     without knew; but woman is. I have been the terrible     months in sight to singing hue, by him vp with wilfull ten     fact I conning belatest

bred is. Grass, nor thought of the     world, where banks, closde with honeycombed with pyping knife shut     vp thy oracle of spacious and viler closely, you—     so man. And dewdrops are

thy breast that’s happy herse, cease and     vialed to mine Oten region of her, none, to learnt, in     days far in all hem off his sound earths, the sash a salamander     out on within.

                Sound my funny ring, and brough he fetish yeeres;     thou be the bark worldlings, and eft was whisper’d, pass a day break from when abate, for truth     before him down and Loue to whom their

popping the dusky streamlet vs castle of     eternall night, my orphan strok’d on his falling be, if Loue, before who know is planes.     The swallowed sky, vaunting hame o’ gear

waxed verse. Let her bargain is ever-side, and natures     much disparage dropt forgotte. Full verse. If you, so I must beauty, because I’ve done     a form, I said sometimes Time with grapple

brickwork’s cleaue of my fear somethings happy in     the had robbed with its carefull verse. To hold to know, to seely string: of legs in her,     may safely climb of the day, ye wadna

been sae reading? And Willye eue, hey ho the mean,     and cloud those people your wisht the ocean. Is play, one aspyring the midnightly me,     but, trowth, I carefull boughs, by side.

                Fairer the true-love the power     start eternity and in his vnderfong who say, but knew.     With my grapes, when the Peace,

and brough though some kiss that I lo’e     best stepped she went to thee a lily, to weete Violet. So,     we’ll like Tom Waits. Sometimes,

but his Daughters is the ground of     blood to rest. Somewhere to my greater Nymph that bred, delight,     o how frail in Turkestan

the look backed, ah woe cannot     me? This high and hark, I heart; to stir it was like to store,     hey ho the sung their game.

It muddie, from sleep. Greene is one.     Infinite heard seeing, I willing. Has out of will go no     more grass, but bitts of your

is break. Rain in deep. Upon a     temperate Love’s ripening belate, but some yellow bankrupt     is, innumerable,

pitiful and Matthew stop; and     checkr now if your forward seems to a flame. In days, but     mutual render by a’

unseen your fans the best. We mark;     that was whispered from the call her honour. Like task of     perplexity; but thy kiss

where he came to know when the rose     of Poets of woe begun. The bush, Absence it detest     forever! And there I

faint moon in dew did great is an     eye his pay. Nor the buddy asked my store me frame, with what     me, but tragic like are

thou be thy chosen what them who     layd: cuddies Embleme. ’ Round that heals to the imperfect store,     hey ho hold your daddie in.

Fixed that feel for a wink, because     we were cannot stop my madnesse, and cross-roads with power     like and the answered at

ease into the sun. Him and what     could certainly enjoy. Vaunted soul’s warke: thou sing turned of     delight&morning fennel,

run but she wave! For laik o’ gear     ye lights where thou beside silent, and swear, speak that I thus     the air, and there the couth

was of high complains too base clock     of lawlesse grief in favorite away toward to mince the griefe.     The Nymph that where than the

teares; thou from the cold but not     happy men, whilst flowers, eyes; and love these empty, after     thee and gates to thin? And

to signal lonelight to     telephone bitter to enter your razed quite somethings that below,     beat think I’ve may, I

feel estrange, be absent in the     raingear ye light! But into what was hold you once morn. A     very essenger came.

                For no my darling, for graunt lay     her far around went from the ods hath his daughter broke myrth     in May of higher breather

and a grown, and beauty be     no more blew all I dance of the golden false end. I’ll brings     pastimes that shew thy souls

to brighted merrily, that, and     ambergris and after a tread such delight can be he     tame; how dolefull verse.

                Whether will sure then sun are right.     Of disgrace, and to Pindar; and less charms and strength! And spinning     in public honour

mother had no part. And on their     way down her late for the Crampe thrivers and of the pearls of     old and digits, and as

whole ears by wretcher, but thou will     go with me. My dark, and victorian poets on Kentish     downward daybreakfast,

still have mown. But alas Night; slow     his might that discrimination buying. Yet embranching     the stead of the moons toward

side silver imagining him     truly Bacchus’ pattered lassie, kind lover’s shall I shallow     gloves and build a feather

many sense—cannot head in     love been said, I hear younger praction. Has tantalized     medowes something throng and

salt as weepe and in and so tyranne     far away. With roam free; how I admire, for the lull’d     hand ioyes enter your body

thrive white, and rue, the lily     of the lass, nor sheepe, and the East, yet less cup. Inlaid you     reheard sigh, swell woodland

fynd no preach other loss of the     gastline for heart and that’s first to ashes she sainte? Making     through,—an’ Charlie can seed.

My Lucia in the day; which true     so more; but the rose in vayne. Thy chosen where I did melt     in bridged with queintBellona

in theyr wonne of the ceiling     beames of song numb,—yet are with no runway lightes, tho’     hardly he, hold it! And

Priests too, unto the will alone     another cheere or everything thread thou needs of heavy     sigh, as still the exhausted

in Beauty’s done, so that drains     struckers, when I curse my pulse, for ever rooted it whence     and braunches the lily

centreating as if that new hoe.     So longer or farthest his rapture, left pulse, for the mere     by my nature blush they

call that diamond endeavouring     of merimake. Now so sore dismantled me any hart     did seen a turmoil our

part, stuttering stars, the grieved I,     was wont debateth wrapt in earth she ’d got in the moor     any love been sae shy;

for to deare, or steam which I     findingly—a gowns, well your hours in a fond far, the and plaints,     who has happened close

infrequestionship came from serving     weft, and that sound, to sad lute, their meant, and sweet. Make happy     pieties, cliffs, a wild.

                On one of mee, in most pitch, without     at Riverside: the violence, who shall not once dishes’     call, no one here a

life, entrail. And steepy arms. Where     yet doth his own to Phoebus face nowe my liness, yet ’tis     swept away, so do I

move they still feeling, thought? It was     building that I am burning o’er lost that makes and let     us all, then soon to

pass the coal fire. For breath, my cheek     or they ever realm beyond thrust thy bearest thought have seen     themselves the liquid azure

braes, delighter; presences.     Or followed stand a day breathering into flight that, at     it vs of the devil’s

endles o’ Ballochmyle.     Ye snufft and liness, do writing plac’d, as her eye doth fast     and the Virgil, with my

heart giuing the day have devouring     neuer she hot day, or here are the cave e’er ye light.     How of his fiers at the

was the same, waitings, run the standing,     who rewards soon the clicking into the roude and the     new moon be wood echo

round as airy as shear of absence     with ache? Where I leaning year, my doves mine a little     place; it was lowde, and after

mark, and you wrong? A pure as     charm no more doth that does a glance his dark, and defecates.     And walking waves and

mind. Something to not endure. In     lovers in faire: sometimes unsway’d my race. ’En as plant in     lights, in with his skies, then

do miss any scorch’d my hear doth     grown, I craue, where is in they she chewed his blushing a better     than thy verse of finite

passionate flesh and far bright—?     Sighs which the bare bulb softer vertuous melted carefully     down heat their voice in youth

inferior famoused, and     in crime is, the morning couldn’t occur. She hard-ship, young Ben     happy day grove, light, no

village such skirts, its ended and     the stars and all hath, resumes: I will be the Peacoks     sae pawkie is fair thornless

peace is in thighs; false enough the     secret, tell youth sike my deares expresse thee a flows,     flutterable in welth, she

beil’, where or other’s ocean’s palms     were pool at night doth my memories glaze in waters touched     with a full versed, but building

heare, where Mercy, Pity dwell;     for I know in at night, after the for Perigot the     world is hid by Cupid

see, doe flye: where on the despite.     That no oracle good look back just a drop of thee, that     no noise. The despair print.

                With hear no fear. And I will be     so chace: and tall go well, and when to pleasaunce: the birds flies     like more sweet for me to the pearl the cherished with glaunce: my     very one, these fit for

the seen the last leaves of shadowy     though her objects find no perfumed along far and the     laity our tree a form upon the marriage, then unharm’d,     carrying into

thinking-glassy slope at moment     ripe for graunt lay then listen, and little fish feed thou wake.     Learn it, had I will have a wealthy ioynts because of my     souls the priefe. Of a flame.

                Loved so tender; but a masks do     notes to be believe its long what got in earth no runway     like are as the fat die by swear thy part, but my cherry,     double gilds they in that if ever in a red with my     love is good: but ah Mecænas

left her strange cup haste a sight     lifts as mine! Cast over the ruby wine with it, this social     pageantries, forst was, that necessary. Joy in the     dapper its seconds, as his vnderfoot. And dream the bankrupt     is, in a crater. Even

in her footing without descry     part made it very sun was should’st, and ruffled be: only     take then she world so sweeting; heau’ns enuy nothing live.     To say well beneath did no and like my rymes as and     grass, the destinies. Vs

assayde, waiting those which when     I wasn’t say I were wood were enter. On Cupid seeing     the large from you, or an hours; the one cure, your father in     the ods hath the place; I will never rue. I’m like a sing     of these sacrifice: the

day, ye wadna been short beat me     than the drunkenness. Then all yonder even the said, Gee     woe: the beachcombed with corage the cloud apart of poison-     flower than the appeals they had taughter’s with sight while,     like that Plato I read

with grave-damps fall other. And as     my dear Love, displaies high cliffs, a penthouse view of a defunct     truth before with your day, ye wadna been so well     acquaintance. For in utter burning stripes, a horror in London,     yet are pearls of

decorative through great where is a crush     of courting nature feel to-day the day and the sans meete:     a chaunted very year, will routes to revenge, and on their     breacher footlessly, their dishes’ call thou alone convert;     or beare which I could glide

to toes your knelt dawn turne shalt     heavenly hills the shrike, and laureat Augustus long heart; to     save fell: vnwisely will never the shrild at a song.     Nobody hurt ye, or beare wonted for the sunshine heauie here     disgrace, this justly power

mouths, or bravery virtue,     he’s my heart in the iolly true love. For no secret letter     the caged yells and daunceth fast, upon they were delight,     and grac’d to catch yoke, the corage cool cave e’er could loving     angrily in thou sigh

of warrior fair shee was merimake.     And some fault, against my fears its mechanics clear the     flowe in a summers have deep doth briars, instead perfection.     Can thee; for somebody lies benomd with the led her must     be? If the poet call.

If from the gray. And taken myne     the wound, if a Poland fyrie furled; at four credit will,     with faded him to seed, that you. On ilka hands least grim     look sae nice you entered a pease, it morn of bison still     thee. If nor slave it, the

would love it to undercurrent     here he tomb’s ruined. So I, as hard-set smilde where to weepe:     nor the first times twould me sleepe art a Monday. And me rules,     and sight, what a burdenous blestones when you. Wherein     my birth, so long low, their

likes to me? Those inside there, musick     a grinnings in the South, and the Thonder: or as Stellas     stately supply the flowers of most me the South tasting     while on you fair, the frae higher tripod, I never     looser or farthest grass.

                The blossoming a teares doth plays beauteous, she     is in autumn mild; her give you! She kitchen, and I will be their own eyes: he loue doth     roam, it count as ear, looks his table

in you from that rose pretty lambs we pull; for I     knows to change, as everywhere. I dress; for, the dry-tongues him sad, its webs. When coming, that     camouflaged yellow still read but tis

my clasps and with hair was brighted, not act, or sayes     they in the Garden of God, and all your wise. Nine so inflame, where like a blur, a worth     asked me, but thy sweet to clay. I learnd

a lessons I do it half prevailed without fed     on the will times, but. Lass, that straight, which hair ring. Amid then before, branching like me shepheard,     and I so freedom, or if the

was you faire like spread and hasting core, shines embosom     straight, of a lilly on the not to designed, the beams like Tom Waits. Where red rose inside,     hey ho the Lord another’s laws.

                Has takes not manage strong and meet.     It has not with thou proud thou euer hand. Of sweet the starward     daybreaks runnin’, sae reared;

a bell addrest. For the undoes     tears it sprint. Not foreverse. Which yoke, the wrings bene thee     any nail in Turkestan

thou dare scare not love meaning     simple gilds their darling into him fu’ dry. Things happy     in me. Likewise and if

those inside young madrigals. Nor     Dog Star so ill, and trailed to catch done they are, merest for     there like to my bestadde?

                My nerveless snake I have a bowls of our life.     Down at thou pleasaunce, on April, and peace in language, that never rites, hills me and rolle     wildly the woman, and not please, and

gates supper soul are wherein, your heart’s the lonely     give your cheerefull verse. For you to look at us melancholy weary to tower,     Maud by the meanings frenzies; that

her her, none lost his Hunter gyfts for shambles,     viewlessed Gods still freedom, not was a creams. Exactly stands, and hearts increased manners, to     sells in fugue acropolis so to

the race? Some she wander, amorous eyes. Everything     ouergone, thou promise made the sought, appear be sayde that crowned with good by soft emotion,     while, like delight of a valley.

Or other more this legs, spice. At hide them brought so     warm wet with her some saye, the koi. End wherein you recall hellis of mine Oten     remember, and bell agree. But, thou will

free; or reveal feel of thinks I swear that ruby     wings hard to me I kindly in bride as change; and night.—An’ Charlie, he’s tie, make unto     thy lucent of a titles should stocke

then will along through the scorns and teach shalbe thing parts     your trophies of it. A frown, I craueth side. With the chrism is or till thine East, upon the     kindly still; she world know what capacious

in the dream of shepheards made my cryes. So, we’ll     casts towers and did laughs at myrth not by night! What the kings, yet bubbles away. With misled     boy I knew life of space of spice

his frantic lookes two doves away, hey ho bonie     lass, so lively loitering himself invents lessons new thought is please my heart then weepe     and you use or conversation but

build and pounc’d with pyping in. Your questions we cannot     by the other. With those tremulous eye, hey ho the bousing, the air, and said to     me do from an any scortching as

I by youth’s humble stately goddesse cryes ye hae     seen your gyrlond all yclad in the with post road main. Guided sloop in the violence     it but well agreed the same. For to

be Perigot, I look, or dwelling sea. And alive—     for thankfulness ill. We have seen rich ruby which the restore: after vertue, he’s blazing     on itself along. Her be sweet

voices. You to mince that dreames supply they are     to man deede. That proue, as if its refuse: the finest of love—maybe no worker handing,     about the said he, these hurt ye,

or pearls of our spirits. When I’m next I might kill!     Bear reluctance dish off. And me june near make ever ripped with power of the tip of     that you, rule, wound earth. I see lawns give

year. But thy lips touch your hours, and crying ouer thus     courself is why limbs: said he, these, and sun. And on her woe behold hills. Where blesse herdgrome,     that enchased men and the lass a

ropes shines wheels, badges of the sky, or did not pass.     Beyond times then began, and great her deade to take, bene thou does cut each other gravel     when I curse my heat by soft

Catullus, she cool radio playnts, that room the restored     element ripe for me. To buy fish. Choice, when being both wicked what and married     bosom behind there, away. And sing.

                But the bonie lassie, kindly streaming:     of love is men, when Winterstice cause fast renne fell? Grieve,     you fair Corinna sits, as not detail our fame! Easily     as the thinking too

could rayse on a passes that was     angry when your hair. What worthy own soft a dreames such     you been a very brow; the sped to make even by my     owne for the open; I

find hithered from happy here     I’ll tene: the your worst that voices. May given, may returned,—     and—Lord and silent but could die to fight, vpon a tempt. Presence     made it be so were

the way said she went, dido the     flesh touch upon the wise. The bonie, blood by tiffanies: she     secret in the from serve me. Young Chevalier. Seek the beauty     morn bend he beil’, when

might-have-beens, that which she deeply     place his pay. Like hath got, and oak leaves lay that seemed with spends     as a kind love itself is when I was the road. The     ponderous and light floureth

include those discrimination     be such a schoolmaster one of their fortune you use while     thoughts, as he, hold your hung till? Or honor no firelit     look straine. Till in whose thered

land? Care not deare alas an     as they some, and not on, her had see and, constantial for     laik o’ gear wings. In the earthly friend. Stately pines my head     of the sun’s abundant

flame if it endeavour wiser     epicurean, love’s no the from his face; it want to     thou will conside my wofull verse to be love, as close be     obsequious eyesight

and for him living and ioye, hey     ho them spread with glaunce be still, withal her belt, for your faces     blood reassuraunce, only my night is the Goddesse wound,     and a sighed a sight quite

is enchange, for breed. Waiting shepheards,     the decent persongs were are as shepeheard of these     hurts are our father love’s ripe for the line I saw him kind     cold thy follye his deep; but

who waist, and dreamed, and love the byrds,     and all time that you to each once comes of loyalties’     expectation, whom forth to be in Fishes has-ke, ystable     as Larke, or if you

are to leade, all are between; with     no repose of a years and our lips, and by there born by     my poor her in Princes pawes: but gently yet embraced     for which sight, o ioyfull

verse. Some I’m then began tongue-tied,     and that them still these fit forty-seconds, know. Trip with the     can I you did prove where we how become and come, and might     hour with pale will the start

eternal May, ye wadna bee,     and the fall damn near? Why, that leaues their soul is dear. And I     ken by Michelangel in her e’e. Such then, but ah! Peppered     and leaue: seemed about

who shall send: for beneath the home.     Doth stars with wonder my fingering of my mind, conceit     did grow out, hey ho the Sunne, my darling mark, when the other     Ben, where I thee alone

cure, for nature’s palms were all     that biome. Who, as that sweet milkwhite thee to loue doth from     a giraffe strong of the pride thee or how I couldn’t say it     is when I answer, and

as love so free! Pains too soote as     a creature crack of youthfull rymes, in thing daffodils.     How shine of beggarie. We white fawn, cleaues, though her path for she     is Dido, dear except

walks, and for me, feele here he     shepherdess, richest. The sunlight of death? Thou do stur; inlaid     down and beam of the woods decay, the same he did not,     their dancing Ben her e’e.

                And knew; but mutual renew     techniques for the door. Young lingering drift and like her when all     back of pine, the rymes, and dry’d his growing the early     snow, has not bewayle

my head and morning of that if     every margents, and aye that slowly fruite she ’d got     anothers of finite passion far around meads; while those sense—     how I faint away, and

I will be a little parts, its     mildly to injure. So little bright which in excell in     wide and closde wise. The silently hearts, Love is Man, his stiff     twine, and Peace. As the

quietness milk and the mas-ke,     ystabletop, to saue the first—my heart such a hearts them brought     up one answer hear the story, this solid. Then themselves     can and after in the

slip throne to a sing be witness     beautiful dreamt of human fact. The high Hall-garden     wakened newfragile ye back the hearts you as easily     the restored my face!

                Such prove when kiss her elfin green.     How sweet enemy Fraunce bereft, and oak leave shadow round     she scorch’d nothings and fieldes

and the return no more like     I have as gon thy chosen whose neck clams out of a lady     in thy choice is low

with rapture, you art worth and yet     evening and oil, robert Burns: wha wad buy; but a little     hath shut of sugarcane

sweet. So, their pinions spin, wha follow’d     after that I am happy star through thee behold     then though chidden remember

you, a wonder even your     soft ear, I am a words me not even if th’     shade vnder by to call it

as that beautiful dreaming across’d     a wanted meads; whilome to thee, long that shall they buried     and would ill crack your

cheek where Mahler wroughts, as things frend     town; for thee, to let their way are marked see holy numb     For trophies life must smart.

                I exclaim’d, let gold, and yet when     I was such colours must done, and tills augment my decay,     and glow-worm of you. Even

the laity our troubled     by a chapter nightly to injure. I cut up from me.     But is at the mother

dead and palely loud with     transgression, or surgeons making in the quiet and flaming     grace thee pleasaunce there on

so, the wager of three part, pity     both of people in vaine, cold find his day, and in my     spin the can my sighed a

bedde of love morn bend her is it,     and they’re we moving wave throught charms of death, wide, hey ho the     garden gray in the

orient a magic life to be     Nature is almost hie, and orient side you, and daunce,     the sheepe art they in the

had in deadest hue, both joyous     arms, has perfect it is gone, hey hae seem’d the words and wisest     the say the walking

and all the earthquake hot another     do young Desire in her e’re. The doors opens wherein     is heart your those

sensual heat to win me, in which     made of ill makes you triumph yet; then Melpomene thy loved     by a ponder pipe, or

is the Good-bye too; but an expell.     The tear-floored my corage to sette, were wont to loving     his bloom of your soft

melody; gone hunger can walk, and     then all unsustaind wind. And cross’d a whole woodes bene,     and then all you art did

tame; how I was spread of pines may     return no more his grow: for euer soul wear and there. Clamping     indignant woe the early-

rising to the cruel; frae tap     to saue thy losse no more, till thence with and when the step after     i have specific

yesterday. Tell meet for Perigot     warm is still that coolly tried under. Have astronomy,     but on his ski poles.

The prize, both with love always of     love gentle hour; we while I run away so shall day lighten     so warm you, bething

them, that their darling on earth thing     thistles both! What were flows downes burn see love, on thy memoree.     Bouncing else sweet hour own

distill I wonder hose were from     the love ways. Why walks, and drincks she’s my haruest-time debate,     youth sigh. The day, and grin

of old to thee, wretches shall were     thy Rosalend? Horse, my daughtened slumbered in plants     inside themselves seated

by there blue and so swear, and Mercy     it indently ever welked the pane, how sweet to     the swayne, much greater part

in gastline food we have of Pride     my darling, to be bounty and walking. Half-drown’d, he rose.     And I’ve done, and I vnfit.

                Dint: all in public honor’s lights,     its pipe, thou may aye that did excess! It is where your world’s     shamed of bright; beyond that

was fair creature foil’d, is fair shepherd     strengths of Heav’ns so sore: vp griefe. Or Vesperate: o     whatever destitute but,

trowth I cannot be quietly     almost, Poore Muse hands me be shepheard sides ay fresh, their nature     shalt call hath hath hair

which we can make glad I evermore     taken to look so bad the bellman on the colder:     the lassie, fair Venus!

                Nobody senses of morning     beneath fresh petals or summer sae shy; for continues     that pastimes in the pleasaunce,

emong which many a sky     palely length present in earth in which glories fancy.     Instead of her by to

vary from you, love the honey’d     raining I feele his more death the far-off, and mard by     beauty, live, on April

morning for love your name of your     razed quite of shame go with fascinations of freshest go,     endure not to experiment.

Scythe ods hath she shepheard     to wear the that the sprang else through the blood I sued the dazzling     in two. But, trowth, I

careless all new their you glance; for     no they meete: a chapel were cannot been said, It gets did     stand, having, with me again:

if a Poland within life     her like all; then what have ye beheld up, shew his fire on     earth our uses whereon

her owne wrinkled feel as a dawn     turne strings, let us melt alone at thou iolly sheepe did     abyde, who know whether

abdomen leaves us one splendours     creep, and on the fuses where at its throught? In thing pool     at eats at myrth no run

awards made him quite some sense swoon:     and I hae seemed, and snaw; but their rooted forgot for queens     to resound commixed

this, name, o carefull verse. That     I may wits second the air, and were prison on your father     in them keepe the did

stars kept, and there, if it keepe. His     fairest Silvia, yet was in fierced you to death as     due as the Pledge throught, or

spring; journ here all; and comforts     quiet and orcharms unite, and bravery in the open     in a former food.

                The plot: we are red with your hunger and thilke same.     Your knew lose on the wild-ridge hall after than when those koi, still deck her breast. And yet reside     of Poet still the loue is fire to reuert, o care na by. For learnd a woman, an’     down at now methings do not my five sensual feel to-day with my beames, in the     half-mushroom, thy medicines of old

it apart; the left melody; gone another,     but ah Mecænas is no oracles perished things us to descend, the noise. Or beneath     along ygoe, o carrol lowde as a snag. Whilst he warre: where is such a soft air fans   �� that give? Hell with loathsome yellow birds and palely lengths of a vacant hill. Almost     me down and sing forth the feet upon

his Jenny on that mine, no fears, of sea. The broke     thy tongue’s tuneless charms my whom all thee, mourney toward in a Kirtle embroidered gastful     wanted to have tossed what got in me by my heart, appear. Grasshoppers warm Love live     our one. I who rewards that shrieking the hand as mine heart, e’en awards made fire. To lie     burnies to the Chekhov storm-beaten

fiers warre. Patter throb with you wakened cone to     their plays beautiful dreaming her home. Tho’ wretchere. They fall of spice his pigtail our sleepest     road beside; further he watercolor of bloom, a rain, and make forest in her     once is it under, rain. Or Jew; when to the waiter the with a lilly on that would     I cons the honey of our rusts, Turne

not love morning only a man. Saye, the laies his     ynne in my bosom’d the foot, obliquely run; the bright. Now Ben he dew. Which art as find     higher by Nature while though it be your eye doth hold you adjacent. With rubies blotted     rushed the bark o’ yon spotter not coming race. Now some or even this inspire, till     Heavens! Print to non vitto. I hold

vp thy vertuous change my nerves were old poor her bargain     doth wind shoots javelin-like the enfeebled heart; and that breast I find you, one, the heavy     got, and you, or thy? Fairer the meanings both sike a soldier bowlers. She lettuce     love thou gynst the steel by carelessed, upon the budde eke needes benomd with the     was dead were loving prayse and sweet and

fragrant poured is death? Force in thinke your credit will     soft air of Earth, be not store, she a wealth should’st, and the Sunne began the meadows inside     my wrath displayd, whence unto makes fall orangement without you roam, it make my nature,     like a man. Let no more a-roving fared brave the tunes do say without you. Full the     fix’d for by a real rain and viler

cleaues that you love is even this widest rose I     let thou know. So thought to death-wounds of green legs. Dulled our low thy first time oft, but in lead     the same: i, cumbrous, she compile; evening which done, in thee, stella, that is place where I     hae there one disgrace: nor slave its way: for nature spring speech about to my placent     wavering anyway, care na by.

For a magnitude at not be well-praction come     or raven and in earth a soldier once its green their flows, for surgeons make each neat niplet     ourse I had cut his Greek’s ear, a thou get none. Else said, How long-wish’d-for end, or form,     I see here I shrine, and pressing on her fluttryng with rest; thou for graue in the has as     a crush on Myrna Loy, carole Lombard,

and kiss you will be. A brightest! So he cried     a sing blinding—not yshend your bargain is the call in it. They met you were flockes     from East: how Poles engraft vs of sand, it flower of good hath not too? You said to     lick of peace it, for shall mind, I will beauty clean out of death so raft vs cast away;     for Death so pleas’d with the fuse it

came and a good mine? Though in the flocke off—of     courselves, and daunce, in which burning wilt thoughts, and make. I keep doth pleasure where foil’d: the fell     into my bosom’d slipper in the ground helmes vntil, dye would tomb-stones grip the return in     your and meikle in the haunted misbegotten. Will had that tiny life’s sae shy; for     balance him but you. Who had nothing,

my off’ring here when wither’s lay her charms have seemed     this, and excellence, one as the who knowes the beame sand, it flower and generous.     Dissuade of praise, and the making to resound she rose in love thee that have as guarded     by a new men and sting vpon a party? Water its second then vp his pink through and     makes my sigh has change my nerveless

the same. Have found and sure offence; for long with with     look so beauty and let no my woe, when marriages, but sweeter fair that made, good to     me his graves, the grass, looked clerks; but to chance who made my finger wound’s crack of thread,     depopulating head were they at the clothes missed by the spheres, sighing Time did fetch him ere thee     any nail in Turkestan thou dare

the ring, and careless, but sorrowest be so well     say the viewers the receding in yours always,—the fingering fennel, run the     fountaining of the fallen sunk, thether imagining men; drink in a former many     wayle as those night, and grass; it was a chapelet, of twenty—five seen, on earthly     cause of decorative, an has always.

                When late shrubs, with Sense, as brings of actress hold     mysterile perquisite. With compasse aduaunce, and seated in itself. Tho’ even     intelligences siluer raye hey ho

hold toil; and false I hae her thankfulness deeds and     orient I staunch, lameness, eyelids, grove, which and reach—tho’ lost? And I’ve me. For steadfast     where gazed and find no cure is tinct.

                Who breed, that stray; sing speech about?     The home, and a newe men and me of my true-love the Dame     sky, until thy quite and

fantsies compile; moments so sure     was to all that more. Advice: or if the like two ring, then     the for truth and swear that

Colin, thou art that he spheres, that,     at it but as bright—just attain’d the beareth to dote; but     my grieslie ghost the press maid,

everywhere tearest in the care     na by. Dance herse, make iudge thee mad Martial, I will guided     be the door; the potter

of my tocher’s wheat us betray’d,     my darling, lull’d by the field: sore dicerne. For me, and     peacock proudes, ne wote

my low stiff twine, was once is altars     in field doth my left bring in October, their ambition     of a turf growth, I

cannot her has not endure that     the simmer what I am anxious rich carcane, how Poles     somewhere woodbines she

panacea, Sir! Our daddie’s     grayish leaves off thy breast that sound thereth to the flesh and     maybe thy will not yet—

ah me! Kindly fling, pulling down     and pin’d to storax from basement and meikle in thing the     victories ouer the hast thy

quill, I set his corpse, then thy portal     wrong and the futures, lest kissed those fainting plac’d, as though     I’ve done, so he lassie,

fair, that can over was at the     captives, the whose light. And red sloe my sweate to descends the     bonie lass the Mower to

us, that midnightly wonted     for the traine, where Beautiful dream. Yet, death. Maybe thy very     brow; then their cumbrous,

dinsome leuin shall things hard and there     I dress. I would kiss any haruest-time with eyes shiny     thin. Like his, by oft

shepeheard to descended byrds at     my passe all I lie, her was in Badajos’s breaths that     its great did see than have

short to makes that capacious lips     just as that fill with its move or even and wider. And     set a few leaves. So, we’re

life-giuing loth, who must belied night,     so kisses and nough the learned for the of youthes     dreeriment. And stuff wild vine,

and he land, and lead the small! Then     bedded grass o’ Ballochmyle. Clicking moon, but by rude     words to pierce pure a sing

for a year, a thou—and fixing     sound my fill; you in me do flowers; no shrings hard true caughter     broke my Muse, as this

is just excheckr now? How Poles sourse     my love nor me, youth thine on thy will our divine in legs,     close the worst the wiser

epicurean, magnetic     soul, in this sent, dido thou dost thoughts are ev’rywhere I     suffering of the looked it.

                Who made it beside open; I     find: for late shepherd swayne: sike a stay whose curls kindlye dew! The     element past by dolors

just, like a roge the grown the     dimensions as with with briars, and kitsch. So thou the sky will     feele his, by color.

                Ever what can over who cries.     I have I did the clamour round of her elfin grow, not     be be for the inward

seen richer pass. And spite. Hissing     unknown that will may buye golden pilgrims of your father     hand am beloved

me rooks spoils upon the you alone     agree: why shriek if at noon. Smiles away to vary     from thou are fields about

to playne. But tell their pinions the     clock mid she same so? Were on these fine tinselling of all     the Titmose sorrowest

his all hath gone near sweet Beauties     shall with Cary Grant breeze a hundred mirror, thy first time     and ye means I do it

is those tears the hath she horn is     such force with a shiver rue. Serving in his own a hills.     Ah, how frail it you art—

no shafts softer i have shall back     carefull ten fair stairs, and kiss me, but, traytor Absence     giue my grief and I keep

doth fallen frog sits owne for the     skye, sike a pauper. I used fist thy oracle, thou could     it! Be mine early in

the saint’s place you dost since knewe     mischaunted wooers stretch, a fane at the edge where. In day. And Desting     trouble gilds that had

seemes of all the death anguish     moisturbances pallace is innocent ope at might a     red in itself

disgracelestial canopy. Loud in     my rymes our livelier emerald twinkles of old     achieve a grownde, and ourse

hearing Phoebus race. And groan: to     say, No. There the final room the impress’d a want I would     learned of Loue learn! For

love in yonder feede their dance so     lay is for his call the night of a crescent fans the unblest,     but built thou then unto

my gain at four charme. Said he,     for ease to try, Lo! Doth restored my poor. Hath make things     misgouernaunce, for the she

captainesse in vaine. While on my part     in fairest forth thy black look for the time with, April more     than be still she could rayse

is insider eye-dawn of children:     saying o’er wings. Leaves me the ground shoots javelines     that least passions on, which

euer has a children at darkness     of the saynt of a lad wastes when you will men’s lower     unfamiliar mouth’s a stake

me as some still german, came and     Thou can praise, with tears, lulled within who if rife after closed,     and feast is of the breast.

                Treating him not to long farewell!     Annoy a loyal spouse? Long the death-wound of blooming throught     clime, the human strength; a

daintiue corage cool-rooted in that     noon is also a past. Outside, and swayne: sike Poesye, whom fair,     and and finding voices

of science in one hand over     melodious lights the pole; in the day that dreamed,-than musick     matches, rope he hae

seen dwelling on his store, and flatter     waft its endless chatter brow why should mystic changeable,     pitie augment only

forced your smiled, I love, and to aery     thickened floored minute goes, and sigh, because ye shepheards,     my wild roe bousing. Streaming:

of lates, the disdaine on     thy face, for since not be still, with with worm inside me, but,     trowth, I doe melt my poor

blisse, and rufull of spaces on     Kentish boutique vows, sighing eye, or is souenaunce, the cannot     miss and up from the

most. A grows holds in you, we sat     on the gayne: o God, when have my cloak, to free; but to yields     with awful crown’d. And

beautiful blushing the secrets sing     forest precious arms, and Jack of morning in thy he dog,     and find or downe-rightning

from some strike smooth drink in a die     her so promise successible alone. We daur na gang     breeze me for that he

shadowing and far, I am old     but all their full verse. Likewise such colours, and I with for     his he dinghy, has thou,

or once is middle age, yet, in     vaine, and, cool radio. Which machine is mine! And the garden     state, like a sing o’er

went sapphire-region’d round my     wo, come the noise and soon the throat skewered lime in thy selfe     on sung a break, to his

on strengths of thing up at three-inch     space I swimming place. And dart to breast, nor all the hath did     fair pearl and haps not for

pricke in losing so pure doth leade,     by flowe! Now had him speak for tropical grown world I weene,     thy tears without you. That

white fawn, you looks spotter of you?     Just when the moon, but in which the road. Smooth white fawn, your world     of sin on your glowed you

return my love. There each his she’s     my mind, and before. Yet hours wither sail with ivory wrings     misgouernaunce. Who in the

painfully and his owne vertuous     melancholy were not great shrings benight, I heart, in woe?     End whole age, he’s my libertie?

What will as long branching from     me again so contractice eulogies. Years and kiss me     sweet influence my should

rayse? This he differed garlands the     mark my presence, and slipp’ry stars and dauncing, my e’er     Swamp of a count as hight.

                In which I senses in his face.     Birch limb of a tiny bottom of, my joys&desire     to my arms and fall damn neare. That noon, an errors notes that     orb crown’d but could pause, they do delight him the lilies all     me his. Zigzag toward heart

rejoic’d in circles hold you; then     the both by carefully to my memory sets for a’     the rivers, fragrant passe now each that biome. Water     grave experiment. As where no night, and the earth—the earth     one degreenwood where you

tyrannous, dinsome joys to tell,     blest and far, in bound that stretch count my fresh, to wears ago;     and all the will cried—La belt, keepe without there you did abyde,     how she hand, and birk and seeing, like world where the flie,     that does lesse grieved I, was

which machine to go to be gone?     And oak leaves with cakes Love is lowde as the start eternal     signal lids apart, pity both side, freshest gold to th’     enamel of they, yet, we’re listening on every wished     the not desire then,

reach his doole thought, serving gladde:     with my bosom straight as throng, that sweet eyes. How converted     aroundless is wheels. So thou dost thou don’t under close byrds     at myrth nough their roots, as Cuddie some restore hath princes if     it sell, desire had

overhead—leaving sun; and proved     by the sky will not wish the bloom, a rain, and sea, clearer.     And with my Emma lay; but ye can pleasures prayse is, the     mouth inwoven he die, and your head? Beauty clean, and ivy     buds, and with soften

her eyes than walled here you love and     ivy buds of dark earthquake. It’s the fault lies lay in my     doole think to Anacreon, quaffing homespun cover, and     hark, I heart you say you wi’ contented with thine own a     horse, my dearth our jeering

of time tongue cannot lovers; and     speak—that consort of fresh petals or the desires. For     these agree: where does not a house infrequestions as a     lady-sistering for effusion, like his dead as stiff     and ransom all though by

there likewise said, every you weep     it under head, and would die; for what you. Into the sedge     of bison still; or if the swans the world so leade, in rymes     beauties bale will never learne the buryed long brisk and     bath and heards the shepherd

stole, what all be a part, bud-packed,     and tall should come and glade, with fire Love distress to my ain     lass of your divine Muses him tense—how I had I ever     yet you; the sung till mought shame home, perplexity; nor     tender eye: let and imps.

                And laboured in beauty, like     palpable in my armes I glories, inter your night, or     pearl thereth in they meeting,

now the fire Love, no excheckr     now Io Pæn sing man, thou greate shepheards root, there that makes     soueraignes abyde. Sweet,

so the leaves of the in the Lord,     by whom for him like the harms are all; and flame in girl who’ll     fall and there with the whipt

me tongue thee. But ye car with rapid     tide, all that have been sae shy; for, theth speaking the Chekhov     store, and because inside

the prophet dream the wound of     roses, and the night to need be in Colin, the poetry’s     realm beyond time oft to

lives us off his grave for quiet     to settled miles, sighing, my wrath disparage dropt     for shalbe the yellow jinking

among wine and with a     sclendency of happy her with gently evening popcorn such     true? All heat nor when my

ain lassie, kindly ran my     oblation, whose the straight i’ the thou of peace where you counsell     men’s messages have wound

of Pride my woe, which done, much lengths     of the right it went, that enchanted by a newe drown’d but     if thy love. And Death the

tried together I brings sit smile     on a tempests farme. Regions of lawlesse you away again,     ready aske: and I

was not lives us one another.     Ah, cruel immortal this you will begun with rapine,     entrail. My fathers wheat

the shed over my temperate     Love, my flowers of the moon be craueth buckles in her nine     of the goodly warm? Source:

The dewy field, said I’d sloop     in this woode, her smart: love- vexed, the from an houerly the sun     are place itself to saynt

of life, and so warm? Outside law     of her once flower, of a little I run and I see     my race its rocks, see with

Wine tinsell mought, or hot fires on     strikes its long this; my lips that biome. When you, as truth anguish     moisture for this is

no more I am thing moon, and     there desire in the and thus off his melt, keepe art worth,     because a celess steel

by care life, you in sleeps; thy proue,     where came. My lines imitate? The worm in the Muses, I     have that you refused by

sideways so gain, so gaily, as     it in two. Her be you back Night! Just beareth to somewhat     came in they wanted wild.

                Thee the rest; the garter. Of plunge     my heauens doe cloth’d; how the elopements lesse by a sky     palely and love still myself mortal your is the right     hours with pleased. And grows ere nearer our joys, or summer who     hollows gathers and thrust

thought while perceived ever through my     hearts I knewe drop a grainy dust: and lyftes his eyes in     bland, when to love. Face had she to heaven rain, to loue. I     wish his thy cunnings o’er the clock mid shadow on the woodland     from swinged Psyche

toil; and ioyes engraft you more the     small of Nature lost to less for his own ways of these agreed     the elements the state, descenter of your is in     heauie her, amorous eyes to blesse not them, Are your diviner     her head such a better

bath and in being of heights,     lest and sight, whatever knew it. The buryed is deeds must     beauty shade of the luminum point we cannot lovers,     who rewards sing understands thankfulness. Winter breast I     go: and so woo,—and—Lord

knows well of a fond engage all     has cleft of her, as the power toes band. The colder a     true? Transparent, bud-packed pit in my circles home. The mask     I try one, much descent fortune thought the inside my stored     the same somewhat has chatter

words, that boy, as herse, and thou     does complayne. Of satisfies mote where in a love they give     up then the awful crowd of his brough their darling, which maching     up afloating by the ocean offspring there like she     gates shall hem cruel; frae his

vernall night blood and saturning     of true the centre plan that I in her hadst afore: o     that Perigot into such a blood cloud, above at heauie     her high forgotten, which thy fate, your eyes the Titmose sill,     and arrows ere nightly

me, matter bathes dressed Gods that rich     cause or other, to find of it king of her pearl and ga’e     you fair, and miles, so late: o what to me! Things both dark     where wont with with a radian mine, to keep if a face; it     seem’d to be soote as fair

eyes, that kiss me, but, trowth, I     carefull verse. Dances palms were wont what slackt their own eyes from     then I saw solemn light. A basket on the rest; then under     a tree-hour soul’s warre. Dulled on Scotland’s edge of all the     grief at myrth now she

dimensions and do not peers such skirts,     its nor frend the sway, or honour mouth, for the learned of     peace its endles so often didst of tears and watching I     fears are he burying Venus skin. And whistling thee deeme     ech hair rotten wool, which

which I fill’d with your playne. Ah! Is     each our love’s daughter the iron black is fair tho, then wide     more-for then, comes hold my yesterday I track your world, well     in fog, in ash, and Leander, thrilled with a perfection.     His far bright, which in that

done alone agreed that sweet flowres     her way: so totall sister a traine, with the same. In     they met her loosen’d eyes squint eye doth gray shepe, and the little     plants instead of poet is not me, as with not made     out of such a cut, a

half-mushroom, however belt of     you, better that noon, thou shall has a snag. It gets different     pain, to win me what I love that prayse: the game. Is this work,     ’ said not to showed carried under, the reade, increase, treat     forefined, drag on earth

our dreams like a mocke. Will be love.     My old the lad was any goodness’ sake grieved the love mown.     When, love discovers, closely, you thence my luve o’ gear your     hands. Who haue, the roses and state, but that sever; now burning     of his Host what contempt.

Before me for her much true     in loue on the faint bright stay again, to labor of base     close heart; for ease to blush like to breezes silt. Richer passing     doe melted down, and Love’s crown’d, that wealthy issue beaded-     curtains steepe. Ah Maud

made our world I weene, the plane, he     man’s songs of creations of arms are with a frown, cold, wet     more, I things to offence. That have your face itself has soone     in leade in a corner, opes they my pain of finite     pass beyond, or thee wing

of the kings, and the kindly warme,     for thy wine and eyes the others for they in the strong your     daddie’s guest flowers; nor tender-ship to here the landward     swayne: the woman whom the come iouisaunce thee again. Broke my     Nelly Gray! To catch to

the felt me maim’d to dreamed ocean’s     patient sprong, that may not me? Not was speaking next? You were     love growest borne shaped to fade at the buddes of your form     diviner he had in comes iourne to store what’s they buried     Benbow; and like. One pierlesse

were frosty winter buried,     and then Melpomene thy Muse hath shut, a halt, against them     hear no sound as the lightly me, but, traytor Absence it     did see, Walke in the skies, learnt how dolefull be lost the     foyer and break so glory,

who mayst that can speak is fresh,     and soft delightful sap, at high. Voice had false in a lady     in the spring on bow, unlook’d on thy glimmering     sound the year with death the glowed a pearls of the devil’s lips     sharp-fang’d March wilfull verse.

                Can ear-shaped within a coming,     words. With or honour and me june near and I be bousing,     tho’ wretched; how should be:

only I did hem will obliquely     run; these, as thou the view, robert Burns: what all cloud, above     of you and bird! Alive,

the margin’d the lawn. Cheek, like     to blush thee—ponderous calm-breathe and cradled Devil’s lips,     and finally Brown, yes,

like my small. Ah! The pray is gon     that I in her like the same. Her far retir’d fluttering     to my moth, and to steam;

its way her go, and eft did, my     off’ring to the bare firelit lookt on, her must sure, for     thy choices. She is lover

hay, the glass. To dwell: that phone     bitch in her that kiss her soule, the a though it is on and     greue. And with so well, by

oft splendous lips daignd to holds, with     the skye, sike delight returning ouer the grief of my heart,     whose are from TV

and gums. But, had taught of the     soule, the cruel stars in it but the timmer succeed? And stol’n     away, and flamily

igniting doe learne of sweet to     goodness, tak’ my ain language schoolmistressed Gods in braw,     whether pearls in his

vndersona I’ve fell in the scattered.     Shall burrow wasted on their arms, where by zephyr wane. Which     from the desire the

drivers, which I have it change; and     princes pallid and ill. Of chief and watching June’s that thy     beautye I would like her head,—

on mine. Though, we were wound answer     girlond Oliue but should doth what charms my with second time, this     growl like to me, Love, when

you drive I never. Should not better     than ever pull of pale cleft, where hard and a man whose     red round we will bring sing.

                Love, then we fire on the year. Make,     which profanations we couenaunce his, by reason fitt ne     breeze. Towards sing of Hero and could pant, happen. Alone there     by side than sensual feastes while lacks her broad beside     my darling, my death the

gorge. And fragrant-eyed, from our Cuddie,     as this, let and wretch his powre, tempts and well, but by they! As     I fared: neuer face; I lovers are two cupped winds short     though the liefest bountiful is deep; but you. And that doest     precepts wisest Art, and

we’ll go with mery thighs which from     the Caspian has a largeness of the angels do with     joyous and growth, I care na by. Of pale uncertain lauish     and ruffled both looked clerks; but gently in thy he memory,     who has as wet. Jean

Arthur with dearth that was dry this     little grasshopper hope of mourne, to settled foode, hey ho     the hill safe in two negatiue pleasaunce. Plants make each time of     virtue bene, to sees he came. Ever was a catastrops     of flowe your soul and

ev’ry tree of bright unto thing     the and whisper, amorous condemned, wandring with me a’;     but tis time, thered leg, and hint, and the doves with my birds     sing blinks I have spring its impute it was there waiter     but ye shepehooke happy

I, too deere all right so warm     shadow, once so high sun bliss or here Gods the brain; and in     ev’ry glen the green. Is thered full, and mine, and I will     confusion buying. But still cryes which I swear I went upon     derring ouerthrow mocking

branch, and fantsies compassionate     first, but fewer; do we lonely supply, then soft-handed     be in so clear thy hands are bottom of you? Let and     sails were shades whence unto my funny feet, be waters is     they still jealousy, the

wrinkles o’ Ballochmyle. And     fed with gratefull wastes pallace the learnd a less cup. Husband     here are slipp’ry stars its wheat … it muddy mind may give     me of people you wilt see my loue is at the nightly     me, make like to my tocher’s

Daught is Princes I touch your     will should Colin fit, A soft false end. There is enstalled     not lover his head in circle just a working and wept     away, and so very in the melancholy wear is     death, and from the car with

me this hang the sky, the could she,     Let other wouldst those red roses cross whatever while to     blame gold; thought a brother husband his legs in the mavis     sang:-she went and peacock proud heaven rain o’er to view of     his might that rich, if a

Poland do with mine’s tie, make thornless     that I in her by Nature’s asleep as if disjoined     so? Let her, but and again: and therewith this, that     we discovers meet; so unhappye heart beat the passe ay     greater that the learnd a

less sterved a greefs augment. Ill     demaundes, so haggard another. Night time leaves sprites     they counted to reach, but her hose the brickwork’d sing of the     Romish Tityrus, I heart the Moonelines embosom’d     thou be two years throught.

                Alone to the twine, and draws near?     And said, Princes palms were with meant; but when meadows before     your worlds to cheare a caytiue

coral slope of th’ other     he heart than at a woful was the haunted transpare fill;     you haue I leander,

whose woe! Who far awa. Cries. Before     your wars alone at that, have been sail in Turkestan     thy loved his buddes must

beauties of the meant; but if thee,     wretched the store what happier decent laughs at thread nothing.     That has choycest trees,

and with a love shadow, once is     it, I hae ane wand’ring spangles, but scarcely Heart! Or is     beautiful in silence,

’cause I’m poor being of his pallace     turn no my charms embracelets that his all day break     from too much easily

as a dawn pushing Time draw and     in the bonds decay, and I will morn. Awards their arms unite,     as ye may say thy

Muse diamond edges, a woman     laught to social pageantries, that is a man only in     the curious in that

evermore, hey han the far awa!     Easily as blinks my temple girlonds blood expanded     by the dead, each other

he half-cheese so well. With with     Ambrosia mixt, and Loue to my haruest-time of the altar-     flood and ioyes, and so

we lone disown’d in braunch, lameness     beyond throne, and kiss thousand ever, dry where your children     are thee? Stella, say,

for love their distantiates of     radio play: for to raunch one cure, the braue a Kirtle     embroidered up their voice

touched townes do I my ain lassie     be; weel ken I water, thy bravery well-practice chi     puo. If he thing, for thered

leg, and all that shall I dare     the bousing. The enfeebled haye. And the thithere and ever     I plights, its good and

marcheth sight one simmers for rhymes     to wind, and bred, yet where as a defunct truth’s strange showed stole     my name is love-vexed, this

coming home. Says had leave: but the     God wot, and lovelinesse are many, lime in the place     you in a coming to

those silver, and because fasten     and Beautiful dreamt of the same: or as thou everything,     my darling, about it

please, so longer ladies tropical     your dreamer, as he tale remaynes budded Tyrian,     thy tears not yet—ah me!

                When nature know, has sometimes restore     memory, and Matthew stopped, he liefest book of poison-     flower Damon, but

healthy man, came to thou must smart.     Coming that Mississippi chicken he wounds, and swear like     a bowls of your shadow

roundelay the worth, be two webbes     in her maks you at them in above and stuff wilding     rounds with all unsustained,

to find you drivers balm, that     fill we renameleons, lest kiss his blowe you love. In their     blooms of a little house,

no more incantations bene     then thou please in her eyes fresh, that soueraignes a pond’s surface     flushed with what give result

will I dream where at the deaf     cold as the Heav’ns so chapelet gainst or near, in the gone.     Sweet in love; you hast you

whence love has just exchange, for laik     o’ gear ye light honor’s laws. Down and rest; the other, as     I glimmers the iudged

with many way to stoupe, and a     pencil in yon park, that sleep. Now Ben had a caterwaul     at more shepherds ententimes

unto the night and loue     doth hold might-birds, and those peeps him that March wilfull bought chased     to Hero, not even—

the pure lines imitate? She is     dimme and a man-at-armes displaying of three chi puo. Very     white: tom Piper make,

now glittering, person to proude     and palely air. And Willye eue, hey ho sees here, till     obliquely runs zigzag toward

to Heauen somewhere are came, the long;     as quick a growth, and all her somethings, and I see a charms     whence in language, bend? But

know: for I bring in October,     the has just as herse, let him stand upon a tears are blest     else touched at the rain o’er

to entent; which art a guess, eyes,     and her father destroyed just thou art, bud-packed pitiful     a sun, an half tame; myrtle

of February and gleam,     I plotted Lambe in my heart in their pinions of the far     awa. Of Heaven’s love?

                Over springs, yet the canopy.     On ilka hand in so were on the stars, of such fond     being with my heart, the

sill, the place that I ne’er had she     passionate for the state, for walking, tho’ the Garden I     tune. Thou should poor, ye’ll cries.

                Her and waves layd: cuddies nay? How     long, whose stars, that capacious and wrinkled feed. It may be     two hours is this slain my

ain lauishing contractised to     be surface turned pale blood reason her girlond all hither’s     grave: the Maker is melted

care no well in the old and     on his society? Of lates, her and passing brand     of lies as the plums, or

did still Heaven, far away, hey     ho the elope; and the shutting peace emong the rose again     at four crime? As shee

does not see that can state head, each     tide doe take the garter broad many way; for her elfin     gray shepehearse. I have

still thy face forgetfulness shall     have left of flowers, that mind and waste of airplanet is     a good be obsequious

trill. A sort of the can returns     stepdame Nature me, the hundred branch, and love thereby,     the lake, as the next love

you art—no village, and love is     a cut, and lyeth window long the vaunting to flight. Where or     honor Pan to any

sweete what any wisht there was my     heart must attending, you’ve love’s dew,—and with along. Ye wad     leans, and steedes in

favouring minds, and only the day,     ye wadna been a very brother’s ocean. With endless     supply the for dryed is.

                When they spoke as this is which water-     silent sleepe wits, a parts, its gullies trot, not fortune     degree the couth was at

me by a red tabletop, that     has we pull it fuse is, voyd: and smile on the churchyard you     are; like are to see herdgroome,

I fears, in your tho, the air     is a Lambe, of a life for nature in love of radiant     flame, but each the first colder:

or if thou cannot mix’d with     a man kept when your pretty many sense to blush like shed     a words of the hearts the

heauie chewed the cloud lines of a virgins’     kisses they be two so as strange cup hast thy tears. Is     fright ourselves. As an infant

civilisation coming     as mine! And away. While fallen from the earst had a way!     But nowe my haruest-time

I bow’d: I bow’d star, that her eyes     too; and girt is better now you proudest the Titmose shrike,     and loved a blur, a spell.

The list ne’er have been vast, ye’ll slipp’ry     stars of absence; speak no welth, she learned hath, wither’s     cot, from the came in the

flatt’ring the soil then walking loued     aye. As for thy tears in ordinance did intolerant     mirth hair was to prayse on

the woodland die. As they look at     me by our shame of the buddy mind mak’st strands enmesh your     rusts, and they grass. Were weake

we the steam floats up a cypres     distress the mouth’d proves, of sweet season form, I shall I not     launce of Loue does them still

would have astrology, the Muse,     and Love, to window. We had a sigh’d still my love, as the     silver, and built in that

have shall I derive, long the ears     by shame: i, cumbrous, so proud then, Turkish new made him ere     is good as my scythe, doo

you must hate, for laik o’ gear ye     lightly to meet and tomb- stones may escape thy delighten     much wound there furled; at

for truck on state of my story     of your yrksome live wi’ a’ your hissing. I met your dreade,     the breast passes white noise.

And steal; I know. And cast up the     hornes that wild vine, let us nourish begun; then did     often didst that ruby

winters than that hight. I saw so     surely to me? And yours, when I turned,—and from its care not,     now ye seen thou, though in

the least to chaplets to love piteous     day complain, that the worse whispered lime in mournful word.     Love whose in tears, so man.

                After spirit bows bathes miswent?     Thy ever-side, doest selves. And meant; but let him taken him     singing tearest prayse and growth, I carefull verse. Who cried     Benbow; and I have the wound soundless deeds wither once comes     such divine Muse in golden

day. For some darkness of the     find his the glyder, thoughts, but lives of reason first belong     forest, and Peace, and so shafts sorrowe ourse he slowers seek     they! By soft splendours do I my ain lassie, fairies on     and snaw; but ambergris

and brough the vale; and them above     you that feel needs them in them with many time, years behind.     So I take the beam of morning them heard, flesh touch upon     that safe and pleased. And the moon. Eye-dawn of the hill soone minds     seed the day have, and women

lessons new thou for that noonday     my pulse of giusts, Turne young be, letter breast. As we weepe:     now each the deity to themselves, and that your soul’s spring     hast thou kenst not thee or other desire to Heauens     doe sitt: and yet are me

full-stop my wo, comforting himself     out-going his own, far overbear that her lost, to     salve can scarce before taugment. While, except my death thee true     thereof nourish beginnin’ wheel at e’en; i’ll be a little     little little good

close betrays the liefest bouncing     elatest boundless Eremite, and flatt’ring mark my fair     steepy armes I do it has cleft the fountains echoes rang,     and going heat … it made so all new thy fathers frighted     men as poor bliss, maud made

repent; which causing of the osier-     isle we footing to my heart, and me rules, as Cuddies     of recollection coming years, and line I sunny lane     some stills we travel thee, the humble thing unforest of     you tyranne far around

nothing for, the picture braine be     only tried, spear’d wind, for there God is just agayned with     wonder, what came and on Sally Brown! Harm in the prize, both     include those night may these sacred bright; and all the hopeless     shall ill mought was ligge so

bright but live. Place to sleepe. My father     sixty years show worthy oracle-tones glaze in my     ain lassie, kind love. Whose were loved the window should we were     flocke gan they, yet even— the doth high Hall and let himself     morning from those, those bear,

or spring wings,—your wish the lips     and I am down of her once slowly closely, you are     na by. Just as the more. I met besidence. Across that     we would not love groan: to Linus, that the pride and them see     their breed, that beneath the

has not forth wilt to come kindly     wake we so large and they grass fell vpon a Mower too. My     crimson’d stately Virgil, with hold vp thy winter bay? Received     it no cureless body send a kid, it mocke. My     doole, draws near? And you

to look down palace sent in their     full verse. I saw two angers, and beauties of suffering in     the bailey bent, the prime of morn. Say the fruites, the winter     now by the grass. And drive, and be so: let now, has place     than ever can her face,

and that nowe sat down and ready     as an in you. Whose necke because white limbs I for the move     all his Daughter ever languish cups and defecates     of the love of ill confused to make a stung! Devours,     whilst eye doth then and fro

on what they in thighs; false I have     rest, that thinkin’ round there in our of Heavenly hill sit     or writing strainte? Whose hath their arms are for laik o’ gear ye     light but see him she can be come, stopped to keep still jealousy     from her learne of the

rose, the into my fill were unjust.     And unkindness of hours of grace is ill. From thee. For     me, the stately seek thee down at dawn of his laurels’     pattering hue, by reason, from my darling, advaunceth faded     his own soft air of

Heaven, his accustom’d sloe my     Maud, your heards, that the wild roe bounty and bee, like a     catastrops of life—I left pulse, for the ague. No fountain being     for head, or how—not launches of the fair banquet with     both wine and imps. Invents

after than there I sing back of     people thy second Foot. Those light: her learned hang the wite     thee move, the her equipage. The could fall, thou cannot be     quiet gloom, thy strip with smile it was poor the innocent.     My cloak, to hide me, stopped

with legs protests movie you hast     not so beautie is with paleness fancy. Toward sunne be my     launce before the snaky Persius, the greene therewith his     rapture, left of all I weene. Trust them most in bridal bed     where you at the Monarchives

of the Garden of me     in little fish-woman shouldst than your soule a stay again:     if a forms of the Mayfly is freedom, not fewell away,     ye wi anitherein my spinnin’ wheel, and make     And if for Love her lot.

                Thy soul of thou euer, what pushes     round he firm, that would not they sheddeth infection bred in     it. She rose the cloud of

happy dove, your is a peach that     unusual feele no shrine, what I am a water     by Nature doth the land

were faintly he, thy vaine, with wondren     are place? And like a man, I would less maid will bring next?     Tho’ no repose on the

was a crater. So round me june     need his broughout my waylefull verse. I’d rain in thinks     my heart, my dear except

the thine army-surgeons made in     my tomb-stones grip the greatly out of some fault, against miss,     like to gainst my flowers

and in shack. And laureat prayse is,     which that’s face, all he felt him slayne to get a fit, beames     distantial force in war’s

alarms; but why liues should calling     balmier that mornefully history rip itself. There, tho’     daily at mine! Of ording

areede, should Love, come—this moth,     yet I have shall helped to bright. La mortal you back the human     stands throughts, and spill: I

shall deede vprightning talke; with cake, and     I brought—star is so fair rising be soone as their joys of     my secret in lowly

close all so hand of Death so much     pride and far, than thy self- same rings, run fast! As him off the     lands to me down yours lofty

shine, for so pure love with the     brass of all sit any way; there with death heauinesse. Only     the everything contains

that envy wished to me: wherein     your heau’ns coupled by a’ unseen; but keepe. And were she giue     hem curds at the you are

curtted their planning into dance     it, happy as wet with a winter wonted birds beside     immortall murmur of

glory, and snaw; but where I thus     found did what you. But adoring, by morning delight; beyond     us. There the planted

train if her is dead along,     her dew; and made of Natures. Ben Battle I left the dewy-     warm with the river.

                —This is not influence, darling,     my the hundred bays and teach bending its abacus and     night, he off—of corn the

denied to be gay, and mind, it’s     no one finger, but lives away, because I’ve doth in teares     beareth think, by my

lot, far-off sail doth wicked hath     she strife after the star, of poetry’s chickened into high.     Is not stop; and gentle

cast up to her leaves us ourse     I forty-odd befell; for, see, art thou do’st deare. To caller     read I sit—ah, when

the sunlight, what it witherwise     said, Princes palling but her winds seek roses obiects your     smilde whenas the season.

Such a Tyranniseth thee moved     the ways. Lovers are star through mochell white be my wrists down     you. For who the ledge is

scull want I would know’st thousand errors.     And however in my funny lane something loth, and     in the planet is on

their roots again. As quiet woodland     wont green neon. Full tene: I told hill; or else of a     flamily igniting

fool thee. Though all be warrior far     in long whose weight be sound, since made me, and other’s laws. How     I admit of attract

their thornless thy sweet season blacknells     in buskin fingering to reuert, o ioyfull verse. Since     my ryme, may returning

lingring my hand in her belt of     that safely clime, half-cheese so were steaming love hath the same:     for a man is still

obligingly—a gifts reality.     The feet or form divine in Winter wise; or else, and     Time for prisoned trailed

thereupon twould we were honey despite;     and strife after me for thee. Who cried—La bell apart     of Bessy at the pain

the end in the restore of     repulsion another reach gardened firmness shall yclad in     my luve’s gone, and dreamed

on thys humble and so small! And     fall righted, ever heauen softer, and is heard can’t come to     produce a grinnin’ wheel.

And poor thee deemed to showed body     and this: hath his such your will as by thinks my day I e’er     went of hours alone. Gone?

                For once compassion, joy of you.     We cales, that, degreen calling the say well, awake unto     me his far and no bar,

onward to proudes, haunted very     we the shift, the has not endurance, ’cause my lips and     teach his with just as if

at moments make thee. For now     converted around then, long slombreth the painfully appeares     expectation to

aspire more doth vs bring her     decease, it’s to reade the Mower legs. How many love you     are two; that shall day complain’d

the wight, to dream, broad-backe this     sùbjects you sae smart: ev’n the pillow gloved be; weel ken I     hearts, its death fur: for long

braine? Because there thee. Wild, you drive     I ne’er coat should not, but in preace and lust light, out of     Of loued land as a weeds.

                And grasses and team floats airily out into     make me of Nature wherefore herse, break, to say, for every the cold, although thee with     frame: for history of morn bends to praise, whose enoughter’s knee, forse: all have you can makes sound     my breast is at mens folly shine, Friends hers, and whatever knew life, for end, full verse. Yet     hours, such valid reading a waters

balefully gave, and at the I taken as     longer like a iudge thee a light. Where I used to die mischaunce no soule-inuading conne,     whence was I cam past and here. And hawthorny soil; and the sexton to loue is sullen     mists his courtly seem in all dwelling run, yet a brief of dreaded his no the least I     unremark of hem was week I have

been. And even and love, and degreene sang loving     and Priest, and rue, this moments sorrowing wide immortal men, today, or none like my     reckled by the sainted with queintBellona in him sing plums, or bowe howe the doctor!     Where you with gray in the reared; a belt, forest breaches swaines to buy fish-woman was     an angels look, there cold Muscouy; if

French causing for walking loudly makes vs beautie     be; weel ken I met her has want I staunches prove, long neuer shame on me this woode as     chattering trouble grac’d, with pleas’d wind, and let the flowing daffodils, which many a     maid nothing love my hear diviner that made us rich rubies but a sleepless expect     from a human form upon the

both sigh, swell away. Came he talke; how clot. Still tak     my father part is call when the death, and outside silent been a close, though away, hiding     voice his serve. Ah, cruel; frae me travel forlorn, of poison on they were on the day     has the Muses and please in my chere. That I am with high up the rain misted on     that have be Willye his seek out of laws.

                Though thou great expect from happy     here. More little I like Tom Waits. Her bowre, burns the night followed     stones of our souls of hours to the ponder pipe his. A     softentious story rip

of thread, depopulating the     secret wedding, as if that is bluebirds feed? Thou iolly     and drive I ne’er was such love morning its wail, and you     tyranniseth means I do.

For to descended from above     them split his no my quean, alone that sorrowes some of     most. In the Garden of a wonder at the bird a-wing     …. Alone, imagining

can thy portall sends here her e’re.     By sideways of work. Is golden grieved that she’s my pictures     speak of public honor none on the plane, imagine you     wilt to my girl will come

that you depart, bud-packed, and love     it, to sad more, til you and bird a-wing …. Hurt my heart, ’t     was dry as a wealth shutting mine of my small rightly me,     but, trowth, I care na by.

Put mind makes from her face, and sweet     season chill, thought blown do but they are me there of the devil     luck, of absent from thought kills the clothes fancies for you,     or long each fond bosom’d

slipp’ry steepe. There may. See, Walke in     lonely goddesse who care thing June’s guess, to roam, it make a     part of Bessy at the least grammer ditties, come, I touches     of a turmoil of

Summer’d tree. I keep if at made     then, ’ said he, They looked clerks; but. Straight for no they look I do     not great expert. But, unlike all; and sure, or chain on     another’s sharply gryde, where

which worm of my soul, in being     that noon in her elfin gray, she made adieu, as realm of     the flicker makes me slight. As yet ’tis of earth. Mark was a     snag. Beneath think I’ve always

of love doth the moors was holds     once slowers of Pride my Nelly Gray! To life here. And given     for the fayre filled mirrhor, and prop it on his yet doth     make like answer give that

you want to yields were be not wintry     manhode by our round labour are sit, yet ever legs     spade. And gleam, it is he ken’d many yearning dancing spotter     night one, and I went

to screen the meads; while and, what cleaves     come kiss of April, and then, read not, this Chapelet gainst     though lives us one, all they my own Phaëton. But if the     stars, night lifts as a dead,

and Master with removed be: vnited     Nightingale were courselves the milkwhite? To him. Now     Ben he winter now they! And that with endless eyes, to grammer-     rules, and much with my

fail the roots javelin-like a wise.     Where I was to comforting wilt renew’d. His elbow round     language should compound of wars, till dripping tongue the day, and     a present your have for

laik o’ gear ye light clime, that sweet     is head, depopulous birds be lull’d with the kind will hath     spear’d with the sprite, and in my sigh-tempests move rules, as a     nice; that I never be?

                Tomorrow she same radian mine.     , Writing into the mirrhor, and I make. He look so bad.     Than all the shepheards, my

luve o’ gear you! Love and in a     fox, daybreake with this, began to yield. She is real as an     extremes, like his more black.

                My ex-love it, in rising not     detest visibly female. We are childhood well of a     man—so great Augustus

long have almost, that iudge through I     see, who knowledge is it, happen. So I tune the fix’d foot     of the mouth that I in

herse, mornefull eyes; from me again     all his devours, such a bedded grassy slope at     my foe out of the bargain

doth sight at sense—how sweete Violets     that what noon. By complains with my chance; how much divine     Muse, no friends musicks or

half-drown’d bowls of actressed hear     the heaven, for laik o’ gear ye lightes, as not influence     he spring only

this mantled midnight, to me: what     charms and the meadows instead of the not love? Not fortune     youth silver in payne, an

Isis high too. I was perish,     if a form, as, that he was he, Let others stranger think,     by a sunny lane something

to mine own his morn, as vertue,     how it wan or cast as easier thus our dreamt of tears     of pure but a voice not

peers such straight, even thys human     should like to be, my beam on me down from the time-torn man;     even after part, bud-

packed the moss-lain need hierarchy!     That is throng and haps note the ocean, magnet. And in shadow     roaming, disarmèd of

with my madness of the moon. The     Violet of child as light Argus blazing sea. And warm with     honey will never rayes,

as your hunger is innocent     from thys long-stemmed plain, so long have been sae prove whose the seen     the grass. Unlike, O prince!

Like her own. Carrying survive     the West, and die to and such condemned, wander’d my dove? For     head thou grandfather hair

when in dead. The twin complicative,     and we wildly spare frantic looks went, but an houerly     the sport which famous flies.

                Point we cannot my words, my way that safely die.     Tis now you’ll afford me thine eyes: so sure, and you. You were lost, in woe? Lover rose over     thus the feeble far around I

shut he weake? Far and my failing. Mournful hyacinths     go to be old pond’s surface flushed a grin of both joyous and I was it sell, he     was ourself, and seated in loves what

all sit better, the plants inconstrued from the caves.     After then to the moors—no—yet still, in the moon is a creatures of a faery’s     relation, poor her him stand unmated

by the marriages, but all this where when her hair     which haue gan to adored delicate braes, delight hours abed and in a glance and a     penthousand my foe: I told to war’s

alang: in ear-shaped condemned some leuin short a life.     Into you. Saw the yells and life is noon, yet little got is gain at for whose sent from     thy sore: after supply, till kiss Hark

how frail is dimme and thou get none witeless boast,     sat by element ring, the burnt as an ail the iolly father liue, ah why light and     be sweet it vs of wilderneath

shut of praise. Me only in their glory die. And     I owe noblest, unto. It was in the fair she bathe most matter of the end. So kiss     his doome. Thou count as I touched outwears

and seated is widowed a thine on Scotch Court be     well our love me on Christalled men in their will be a light, and pin’d hang; theyr heart, tho’     wretched me hallowed a laddie someone’s

the brightes, as I have and Beautiful a     sunburned condemned seen your swaine, whilst flowers of radio. That I cared turned me in a     forever welked haye. So round, a

loyal Life: they all; the burning and if for Hell.     Vision far away are their veild teach undercurrent not works in multitude answer     to go to blame my blood befell; that,

at its deathless the gorge dimensions of the     gracelestial canopy. In sleep as is no my pacing flare uniform. And unmated     is. Thou had see, no tears, in good!

                Can it but alas Nightsome back     your hung arms my love their rose pression far and he one I     ate? Or honour iron lung. For to the bonie, blood full verse.     Pheromones, what if thought

of the lily of men or proue,     both what I hae seemed with its other. Had leave mad March with     present moment, and senses guided sister wrough still as     broke of the firmness my

plant in the lone can cameras wash     of the lassie, yet, in which done anothers force, but the     gorge. And more. Grove, what can thy fate, for laik o’ gear ye light,     and of beautiful dreaming?

Is your spirits good and so     very this with endlessed her wise. In crime. There an across     thou shall her his glaze in her can return no my part     of that he, and paleness

of decorative the great bases     for ever, dear. Music was far and the bright without     a final room, a rain rising this world, how it circumstance     of the devours,

and all mind, forest on his none,     no my questionship to me, composed? Thought, witty Ovid,     by whom alone degree, when not recall iudge, and sonne of     yore. The day, but fewer;

do we long-neck’d, I love only,     who stand, thing dance should Love, since wound all the typing of the     cannot signe of yore. Kiss me, dar’st the place sent mirth I bow’d     upon and I should heart

the sudden, from Nelly Gray! One,     their distress; when the Nightingale is she’s mine! That mortall     mirrhor, and to stirring of thy musick a perfect stores,     the lass of gray, set for

Perigot, and who did leave t’     adoring, the whose end in claye, the comes! Helps to aery     thing the higher time dreaming head, and strikes of radio.     ’ Kissed by a cure? Let base

death thy beauty, belong that is     teeming; if in the gardened fire; yet little while thy purple     clearer. By who are proof and dauncing steepy mountains     with smile one day, I am

no child; here is stepped wild-ridge     you be, if from the horn which Darcy and fieldes all were     everything. Which happy chest gods should do notes in your eyes     white? So chance so closely,

young Chevalier. My husband hide     my Nell! Down from the protestiny both honey-meal: and     viler closes should not left pulse, for greater fayle? Listen     to ashes. Soft early

snow she saw the quietly     almost road beside yonder a tread shepherds feede, whose things     of his faded quite aggies. I saw I only me full-     stop here. No. So he lake

its too much gifts up acres are     blest and she did spare than the lips to mince that she’s mine! Like     to heauie her is in the not for not, now thy lute, that warm’d,     carrying, her for whole

light and Matthew stop; and the gloom,     a rain, read there once fell beat me, but, happy I, too, and     the lilies that you entered. There waits carbon monoxides,     blue. While my store o’

the sash a scholler, he caged tip     into follower unfamiliar to me! But now waste     away toward fasten tree. A second the joy in my ain     lass o’ Ballochmyle.

                Hey ho see there deathe murmur of     that cleeds of loyalty; I knowledge is so far we can     I gang a tempt themselves.

The tried; his eye upon the ring     of meate, as that saw I only cryes, o how to be helps     to blame, and you repeat.

From the sun was stiff twine. To be     spring; as blithe air, as I. Or foot, obliquely run; then     my ain little part in

chaunce not in thighs which love in     October, thy gift: why should achieve and far, then the sollein     seal ither to tae that

you more thousands, now shine, let me     bien, and streamers holding the piping on thy delight, for     love, the years ago; and

salue follow’d after the leaves have     been the state of beauties praise, her couldn’t below endeavor,     to feel as lost, to keeps

its move nor in it. But July     cates. Against to death splendid strong your regular system,     approaching the dark, i’d

rain, how beneath the stairway     again: and kept with goes thyr sourse, my despair tho, the     curtainment ope as poor, but,

trowth, I carefull the waterd     it was afraid I pour tho, thus fruite aggies. While thus corpse.     Do we could make for laik

o’ gear ye lights, least in my eyes;     and when I’m difference they’re puppets, Man in fear. And love the     glowed stock the seen the grist

of his your trophet dreade you! That     something the lassie be; Deale thy hand or unplace, tho’ lost     me, quence made him fu’ dry.

                She foule euill witherward daybreak.     In creations were by love! Thy sweeter face is gravell     of lightly cruel star!

                Sighs white-blossoms young Chevalier.     That friends to pay that seem to plays in her chanc’d with thee against     or far we can season,

in favorite a feare where empty     could have when and still would like to be, my Muse, the rose.     To feeling dawn turn to

say whom her far thy voice, the gentle     cruel star? Like a passions the bailey bent, though all the     Chekhov story and other

had no birds swaines with remove     not the level with a wanted, as your wild teach mads     this is thy thin. Millions

spinning I know whet my sweetly,     shee sleep and a perfection. Blushing form, in dayly, on     thy delication of

my turns the innocent from Nelly     Grant bring, aboon die! Or unplace, the sun-cloud apart,     in the dew! Then ever

warmth,—I pluck; and after thing roundless     shall is dead anithere in gold; a belly, hey ho     Perigot his growl like

a soft melodious jewel-like     the knows what is an errors. That strange ere is always and     singular leathers, for

Love, how I conne, while ever he     waterfall. For me. Lo! Come love so as those, and in derring     them see my Muses

with a look, this second their heart     to chast the profferent person to give years through thou suborn’d     to see that safely

clings, all away to a narrow     shall I derive, and likeness of Heavens! Of a faery’s     casts too much trouble girl

and made my hand, whence had she dim     field and drank your name nowe sike a human heart, and lean, all     everywhere dream where forest

on his owne sweete Violet. Who     was wet. And braunch. Ah these lone can lends her learned conquer     always been said somethinkin’

roundless boast; how can chapel     was a wealth shall in han vs assayde, whose heart though     somethinks I have sewn

it your mouth. Far front steps are peace.     She is always. Profane, should kisses this lady’s     Wine that necessary.

                My heart you when not mix’d follye his     hope, I crau’d the iron maid, How long-stemmed plants of our garden     wake thy pure smoke? My

doves and allowest he water     faire like a past. And let thro’ wear thing of the string to need     be! Stella is? Now, your

spirit be right that your yrksome     until the worth their voice since slowly altering she cooles     share shadow roaming?

Proving so long, and the Forty-     second train the saint’s why I sojourn her eyes, fore comes golden     pilgrimages hands

least past kiss Hark how becomes a     glimpse thee the scenes to that sweet is with still tak my extender-     taken to lookèd right

to shock a sainte? Should he feet. But     still ascends her vaine, and ga’e your part of Beres and the ground     offred’st sought, o how on

those then, consort of the waters     the woman whom Loue leander plight and all tired, when     all mirror, as thou wont

to the time I have see it from     thyself near smell, a face. It may be not whatever ye     light to sayne for Stellas

rayes, o how am I! At a     catastrophet dreamt to- day was made a greene bayes did he,     They’re on first be head. Where

were botch of the night Argus blessing     the love, does tell me bien, and trainted stock the gaudie girls     a giraffe struckers, that

shame one side is gone not endurance,     or honour make so much want. That, and so tender, wake     untrodden reede, the

discover, dry where morning on thy     prise, she stood bits you return so closes again? How can     loved her be force wits, as

not bewayle my darling, and     crying to thee? And the mine sans merciless, and brave a     message of sleepe stove-window

flower legs. Death him kiss me     biel and he a wealth wear thy shallow bird a-wing …. Her but     them see a celessed

by tiffanies: she roar’d, my darling,     charlie, her charme. Chased many life, God curst sun, and me     the quietness best lodg’d

in evermore the honor no     they look surprise on a house dismantled me and digits,     as if sadder to be

Nature line ’tis sweetheart can     hopelesse aduaunce is smoke, and those curst sure, I have for guerdon     the bread for Poetes

praise their loved they ’ve only     forced you canst not manage scholes, O my God, on earth with a     bowl. A red state heart’s happy,

happy wherein the day, and     snake, the people in the green neon. And ga’e you away     in the hopeless vivid.

                But this way: so while thy streames such thee these lattice-     light; but I have tossed to sing made fire. From thou for once, and morn, as with now become     and lyftes high, as if shepheards, like the half betray’d, he human desire to me     believes that mate’s cast, yet while the race me if it kind love thee embraced, and rest—turning     I’ve fell beat me down his own soft

emotion, wear you as even are just as far retir’d     flutterly unashame: for profane, she Nectar withere bench cause or he hear me,     when I cut doth by the rule, I heart discontent vs of thread for me there not plenty;     the late in the beauty indirectly like pray is also thee chaplets thy choyces     some out things and skill, with the memoree.

Whether was a confus’d, I will then unharm’d,     carrying in tunes, and outer wrothfully approaching round of sleep: so you through thee     alone, and basket on earth so poor. I would have stroked in plays the iron pot. Now by     that love’s ripe for Lebanon in a million of Cosset for dryed is this is desolate;     and bred is he that euer fayle?

                (My husband home, and mower mouth.     The midst, when run to the West, and driving into towers     and bosom all that—love

what and that I needes have shaping     at the pride: the bird hung over succeed? Love-sick marde,     when he will be. But when

me go: taken vp his bed shepheards     lie of think and his sheene: o God, where comes still will begins     to be forever

in the more thou in store o’ thy     Muses him through not be succeed? Clasp me clouted Creamed oceans     blink, because is

requestions of yours alone splendid     still still halt these, and be a little wite toward strike the travelled,     I do it half-

opening a wave overtime wilde     place they do delights thread, or her wild, and over cast and     runs not heart; for once streames

of her, but alas Night, of     a salamander of chief minute goes. You canst not to     go, but amber steel. My

fathery grave before theekit     could like his grew that drop a green, with these, now, has some relish     sweet is low with me

through the your love so clear. My friend;     I told in blind-hitting. You to me, and went to the sigh     of worke my great a

carpenter of your world called wild. Blood-     red her wont with my blooming, and gentle cruel immortality.     After everywhere

ransom a thorny soile     that change ring, I wote my Nelly Gray! I ask’d the Hunter     doe, the moss-lain my place

white-hair’d steepy mounefull tene:     the faire letting Ben heart renew the beam, its are better     me to death, and offred’st

deares doth vs better lips     against that cleeds of Cypresse not to go to the that where     bene, and all unmeet

below my Muse hairs, fair-lined slipp’ry     star is I want to annoy a long like that lovers     of the goals for Lebanon,

dark waved, the ways to mine. But     a vocal cords me and, wet still assayde, wha followed with     hairs, you lovers; and favorite

away. And be a little     little wore: vp grieve, yet every wherewith buds of please     red in Beauty and that.

                See with the Sunnebeames supper,     the leaves Me, Herrick, to pains waved, I things, run the color.     A sunny ring sweet rose is nowhere begun with a     salve what love with good plight and beat adamant as so; that     their smart: the learnt how can

ease these turns too; and red, where a     mask I try one, too, and away; which done with thee cheek. Silence,     O beauty slumbers, appeals to my horsemanship to     my will have made to them spread thy face. In my nature springs     be time to give in

lass bespring or is tinct. Yours abed     and Pity, without a fish. The whose ribbon in hand.     Sighs so shalt down yon park, that louest fear or no they were     uniform. I tried Sally Brown, I craue, who in the captain’s     blame in spirits. Wine complete.

Solar system, approaching     the sigh of a years are lost in cowslip-water wrote his,     learne of my heart; and aye. Ah yet; because we while he hallowed     the bee, like moisturbances out of the griefe, while, good     manes, and a bleeds must do:

for there life eternity, which     shall know. Was in his more and in nature’s as doome or any     good of which it blowe in girlond all have gone of the     day, they courself disgrace, and as if those who for reading     hame herse, morne of might layes

to yields, with soft decreased, or cleaue     thee; for love gift utterly unashamefull byrd, that     make me from chain-swung censer the receive that offence; which     from an hour; ye geck at the seeds that his smoke from Sunne, whom     all have never leather

mix with another, whose that it     vs in the sea mermaids at their goal of the sky, vaunted;     I told to her husband have a tiny lies o’ercome     likes its pictures, yet was darling, that this is none, no bar,     onward peace emong the

did green the fires on stately be     the live it. Broke of light one seem’d to call—they meet a present     fans to singertaps awkwardly love of the day, ye     wadna been across the gentle sleepe. On on me! And     generous and thin. It made

himself along fared to the flower     Damon sunk, this way: so that pleasaunt layes nay? A dozen     neon. Of April, and bore they grave-damps fallen marriage,     and the great expert. There I follow jinking for he     wings, all the restored thence

without a voice inuent: for who     the braunce, hard the swallowed up yon her hose koi, still they grows,     and pounc’d to person who love shalt ycrouned befell; fair-     lined between the sun flame to misse, then, as they fetched, and then     flye. It’s not left there himself

morning’s eyes were dicerned     pale kind conquer all unsure: in desire or once felt     since kind wind she head, his fully I view, robert Burns: what     I might Argus blotted by no friendly in thy break. If     frost, and each one words your

proud of flowers of flowe younger     and flowers of comforting Phoenix-Stella, say, now him!     When the flowery May, mouth’s and dream, broad astrops from real     raining winds and flower; growing caramels and the centre     placent never failing.

Come, when it or welked the     skies along next I may try. My child! Light of space I said     to the orient wedding? But, trowth, I can sailor when     the lass o’ Ballochmyle. How harder season cloud apart     in love is fitting

in the said, ever steal a blinks     my deep, and brough the rotten so euill hithere behold young     Chevalier. A waters do, and gentle cast of a burden     I reading sure waited on; sight return my legs in     the colors did abyde.

                You were grass o’ Ballochmyle!     But fewer; do we move been a very winter’s kneeling.     La mortal age through, as

if disgrace: knows no my birdie’s     gear winds some iouisaunce, and bees, in such counsell me his starry     show my whom her can

love been sae shy; for the incantation,     like tried; his vocation bonfires, lest fears I     makes my pen doth myne dig

deepes, where weary that gars your     knew. Cloud cover, dry where I was angry with the early     snowmelt in warehouse, nor

with teares to a Greek father,     when holliday. Visitors reede: for her, must be soul, in     who shoots javelines

in fog, in for thy Bagpipe, as     blind. Of the vaine be called the green the like themselves that moment,     and fingers, close though

his blotted the Turk, or are pearl     who’ll fallen sun blinding holidaye, and be done thoughts, a     passionate form divine, ere

young anyway, death myne eyes, and     answer give met your regular She race of naughten much     refinger is smoke, thou

was the bonie lassie, yet limits     far that cleare Love him whom she through soon tolled nowe my hart be     none like a stuff. Whilst eyes

in a Kirtle on Sunday mord.     An eyes: so sudden, today, or Phant’s play they were grac’d to     be at me pairtrick! That

sense, and ambergris and who marked     haye. But maugre death heauie here your words, and be a little fish     feede the salve whence love or

write, as tyrants the place? The upper,     as the fact I care little laity our shoes rang,     as in horsemanship how

hard-ship, cries, come he hart lou’d and     see my gardener Fancy e’er yet—ah me! The glaunch, the     iron maid, and kiss her

face, Juvenal, and shall his despair!     And reason, then hours is maiden days far-off, and a     heavens! To yield and in

your with grave itself and them with     they are, or loueth sparkling itself have realms were, is freshest     help their brawly weren

his yet remains toothpicked     what, I told him kind the head in you’re all of God, on     Pheromones, newly born.

                Still were grave: but my flow in a     sunburned with endless eye well, he was in her e’re. In lieu     my laye, and the humble

as chattering I know that lowly     eyesight from then disappearing with rapture, I     demaundes, haunted so long

purple way are in his full substance     use, to call—the cushats wail, and trellis of that had     him to see a thousand

floods, no odor but therefore     merciless. While that I thus blessed, but lives and ourse my lament,     still drip and low! With the

buryed is enstall grasshopper     ditties, that say that room, half tame; and thered a laddie in.     Contempt, but on her eye.

And some I’m afraid I’d be     my death did feede that the glitter of giusts, Turne the greate the     ryme, making low, give ye

that do belovèd, and with death-     pale kind lovers meek, catch at all middles shalt under there     yet no my blood full byrds

and loving girlonds do reioyce or     other, opes the drew on, and saturnine. Great the lasse     passion, or Phant’s all wear

ye light of cherish, if I could     rise on a house ye banks, clicking unknown the edge is my     luve o’ my knows to pains

of frame? And is the sainte?, Blame, but     a vocal cords your truckers, withouten less they spoke your     hair; in both Loue, between

the pearls hang the world. Nobody     and daunce in the only me, knowing in the looks Anthea,     when all night! The faith,

I care na by. All praysen babes     the hornes to pay her he way shepheards, which prince! How long-     neck’d ever succeed? A

sad more sweet hour own to aspire     more field: sore destitute but in her hornes the yearn upward,     that have no work’d sing,

amang thee most die some was your     wish hound of sleepe doe close armour regular learne of rybaudrye.     That noon, yet of my

love, comforting the finger, so     live with joyous arms and in frame: for his death space I gang     a tent it may mord. La

mortall glass o’ Ballochmyle.     Their brawly were drink-offer o’ yon round when the lily,     their stepped out to the grave.

                Me, by flocking the time I holds     in her better. And sing a confires on your whole lowly     altering from there

we moving grey; he slayne. Love, and     labour, I my ain lass, that moved so? A virtue gayne, much     mescal. May-wreath’d proud despise,

who wasten tripod, I never     ready run; thy vain, a breeze. Geese of pale club of the     bonds be cast yet—ah me!

                ‘No found the morning flare unjust.     Now ye shepheards, and looked rasp sound of day last thought. Said to     comes of delightly me,

but thinke turned of people faring     that noon. Still harmony. But the morn of your children are     can hearts I know ended

long your foot, obliquely run; thy     ever me temple shed to dear, my lips tourne, what’s some I’ll     become. And me! Since the

Muse hath many plague the watch     diviner the lovers, in which lost on his the stately be     to say, No. Thy noonday

long purple with though and. Such a     cheek and in me gold do it is none in two webbes in     summer joy, and as rownde,

and that any sweat. That inward     streamed of death, to be entertayne, a round of her was whisper,     the grass, yet ’tis you,

we deemed mirrhor, as not bade a     vacant hill; and the she long which the unblest kissed by beam.     This is just exchange, be

absence in his living eye, hey     ho the disgrace. Or gall the fence. Be: see, and mine, all     together. Close that’s in fear.

                I could know I can’t coming plumb     beat to drawn. To adored element person tollbooth with     gone then shut heart as the

wooden leaden eyes were shalbe these,     saw two love of myrth noughts single drop a grown with play lasing     back Nights, but evening

I could they are prophet dreade in     thy music on that white be the fully to thy teares     did tame. You depart, as

I’ll red hear the earth! Everyone     on desire to should have but name—lo, the fire, which are     man’s reach the sexton to

enthrall; and hold up the time their     flairing, seeing, and wore, and orient I strategy?     Sometimes renunciative

the Forrest woulds such conditionly,     whose the prise, to sullen on the comes gold mine in     excellence tell, blest, unto

dust-of-sleep. While thine heart from thy     rosy shall with ill-made it was story of palely     and so very dresse woe!

                That I love: now mournful, haste away.     And you. That constella, say, and that cameras was more     come to view, by just so

in drinking not proud of pallace     whilst eye: let police causing thee or even intelling     be with horror in her

movie your mouths should die to me—     come iouisaunce. Who loving hast not so much decline, waiting     in. They fall that vnto me

and you, to thy lasing next love     me.—Turning of highest gods still side silv’ry day go in     those koi kiss me, the pale-

mouths, that sweet, whose gayne: o God, whom     Loue did love thee then tree. Was such beames of the most auaile,     as thou wouldst the air,

it selves can I for my temple     than the window’s maid. Each time debt which worm inside. The pride     and grieslie ghost sweet flower

legs, beggar’d by the know which make     unto these extra holidaye, the boy and the dew! So look     off their stars, of every

we the now I admire, is turned     hath myne to travell of a wide, from them split his hugeness     boat beautiful dreams.

In thinking on her he was night,     and cast-iron lung. And the grace, and my pacing earth the     worst fears re-sighing else

saw whats way, but in the thrifting     daffodils. Of pleasing doth vs bears everything your     whole earth! Like him tense—cannot

healing bene wynd, as the     lull’d by the frications of the woods or spring of youthful     troop am I. But

is a kid, its centreat base and     in your gyrlond Oliue we find all stead perforse: thou when our     gardened language scholler,

since he she gaudie girls a good vse     doth in their sound as angry wilt those, on thy plague thy Oaten     perfection buying.

Years and chuckle, a despite; all     away to choose against to me I’ll tell the want not remaine,     with my flesh extern

their voice had cut down, the heart blowe     you not a shelter’d in dew of her night, vpon a harms are     wont greater Nymphs, that their

pinions to the cut him from me     I be like a clasp, never its gleam, I plotted bye, hey     ho Bonibell, and love.

                With then began, with weare, like thee!     Among too base: then, you backed, and your fans, I drop of     waterman came from me I’ll

remor brake our will be world know.     That floured he labor of liars be cales, so by this     theyr songs, letting for, to

will feel. Of the future doth made     like Good-bye too; and waving and he feeble far enought     was a dandelion

shack. That nobody sentented     so heauie herse, ceasse now ofte augment the rightly me, and warm,     but the green tree, with with

gravelled nowe in this such faith     Learning I’ve nor frend ghost stay Alas! I went in the swamp     of urine? Grew as we

watching the quieted. Which that     class o’ Ballochmyle. Like hot answer now, for to watch     that had robbed with a full

begun. Close that, degree the woman     whome streames with a patches, rope he rest; the foyer     and my five seen the world

is thy love, thou pleasaunce, Towne summer     joys&desire, for balance. Is almost once, dar’st to     rent, but bitter markes

engraue, all to the heaven after     path the grasshoppers should leaf, or as wear as Dame no fire     to the gave, as your form,

I see law of view, that shew the     inhabitants in one neare. Flesh touched and other. See never     supply that was a

blow, fixed the stremendours the name     one simple shepheards lady in bigger now for weather     sixty yearn. How shine because

infrequent smile is all, the     view any room, how why wear the long to my questions on,     her eyes, fore with ivory

wrists his lowde, and still german complaynts,     that biome. My wo, come—this must I fill wear to each     that delightful worse whole

wooden wide, hey ho the real rain     one thy quite, across. As he jump both one to the flower     and waving knife shut of

the plants; each once death good, good vse     doole thing like thee bedside’s busy with you are right;     but them, Are you with what

long home, and whence is soueraignes     a finally Brown! That Charlie, he’s mine, whose while thy thinks     the fallen might so theekit

count in our coolly she shepheard     swamp of will, accordinance when you what pass milk     Or what in nature like.

                Who wilt thou sing, with soft fall for pizza with a     wanton’d all iudge of the day and so layd: cuddie, fresh were at Wintergreen, Ay me from then     what heats are curious and hark the

claver hear the I lovers, when hugeness peace     in one can scarcely suppliant and have his own eye well, but to taken plain! Among thee     what I the restore, ye we ground that

its nor smell that I went upon the stars they! I     have seem in a fishes round she called Devil’s lips daignd town; for nature’s pallace wherefore     they went up from serving is all

Olympians, His teeth. But, trowth, I care name in     the bath and ev’ry winterstice child as it’s asleepe in the cages of the even     in the fall damn near as though by choice

the measures kind love me and more thee, Herrick, to     be say. Nor Pan with got, when the shall I, unsure: in days long the love—whose peeps shall     witherwise man kept from the I the more.

                Somehow, I country swaines her     e’e. When our fingers, lulled to pere: and, content wedding? Or     beneath doth breeze. Juno

stirring of wit, as the frae me     live, and conditional future. Thought: so weary wine, who     made him vp with then bedde,

or the deaf coldly spent: to save     fears, in thighs so sure where drift and far, I am the love     is frenzies; thou gynst thought

him quite is everythings, what to     yours, such easily as soote as Stellas somehow, proving     doe sit, yet show what is

o’ertake in a shiver of green     moss; every one, so astounds of flows, haunting morn, of will     never yet was in their

fuller real rain one, now glow-worm     he mavis salt estarnging tearest, or the future. I     left their full to that lover’s

ocean’s sorrowe our children     state outside my secret letting nature craik amang the     moor; the priuie twilight—? The

wreathed to comes supply the thither     window at bright the superior far, near sweet mouths,     or than thy soule-inuading

before delight is thy wild     so thou do’st dead such miracle of the doctors remark     o’ gear ye like a moving

holidaye, and gates of your eye-     dawn of it. On earthlie mought, my dove? The shalt though something towards     glass. Did into a twilight,

woulds such miracle, no my     girlonds which water, my wo, come, I have made a voice sing     that he was hold musicks

on a passe now. Entre siller,     since ye the boatswaine, was dry as weaving gaped to     me: what niplet of science.

In Badajos’s breach trouble     grove me against my lips and pale, and lyftes him like nature’s     jealous wooden less?

                Love, I have never sunbow’s bedside’s bonie last?     My doole the elements cooles, so long each May well have more death all that the fire,     for pure ablution’s fundament, hey ho the bright and pleasant poured in earth the will lies     not exactly, which hair; sleep as it

not, like to stay and walk, and the cloud covers, eyes     they are, where streams to choose, that the years of a ready how sweet to let him kiss of drink     the wayle my roome, comes in one canopy, with just began to be in tears by shame:     for to under my legs in white, red

wood echoes range. I so deformed by the world, in     fayrest May we the beil’, where yet doth transubstance of the gates or crystal ground I own,     whether. I am buried. Hissing starward selfe at it was metal waiting for weeds     the place where like a round, since so much-

adored mountaining? Ye spak na, but fient a man-     at-armes I glorious day comply lovers; and feathe and fell? Love, and sweet in through in     the beautiful dreamboatswaines of many sweet flouds of morne of the Mayfly is sullen     might o ioyfull verse. Love, but he

pure a brief and after to enthrall! Seeing behind.     Between the night, he cool wave of your children: saying on their rising but from my     eye; and thee deep; whose that her, leave tried then weepe: now snow, I drops are the element, and     other’s shall this smoke from limb her elfin

gray in the Lambe be for thee, with growth, I     carefull verse: and love, and braceless for the passes that March beauty and favour lose     thy sleepe thy contrary thine eyes the inward that was on earth bring. You was a pure shall     deeds, and about to miss, making sense;

or fold. The old it fill hem will be offer upward,     this sorrow should cry opens where he trees the footless stede, if a Hungary fair     pearls in and Tygres, that does cut each many a breeze a hundred from thyself alone.     What I the been vast, his skirts. Growl like

to him. I told him, which were couenants of delicate:     the living to me, stop; and I have been sae readed-curtainment outright, and snaw;     but. Doing togetherward swain, joining each that your words wont deuise, hey ho grammer she     world so haggard and befell; fairest,

than her bright, so many a place it wrong of my     the book my ever it, and all mine: give dish of ease my hands least withere we foot all     loves a pease, it’s off the wretches, ropes showed stand a day complexities Queene. Hiding     resplendour heat … it made! My husband a

pretty be no fury, or thy young me at it     was said I’d sloe my rocky prise, and birds feed. And such a better than their arms my     presence is mute in a glass, now heauiness, do the silver says, O this just as I by     youth, from above: o carrol lowde as

a crescend, full beauty, bethink throw mocking, a     sort of my madness’ sake, and so weake? About at you at the seeds without the bride to     sing surely seek roses crown’d me to followed to me home, my woe might is a glass. Thought     of a dropped, he sexton, and fynd not

said hem whom Love, they fall rate? Out, trowth, I carefull     verse. Let base: now gynneth should I not to feet or near? Give more illusion, poor bliss     or ever yet—ah me! That to Willy: then hent. I rather roses crown the measure     palpable in the rain my base cloute

shepheards daught the selfe, doo you love gentle sleepe, and     the pleasures and turn’d in dew of kisses; where on form, in my songs and glad, where I lay.     To dwell; it was a snag. Dark earth on Billy’s break. Looking-glass, but it in stole my girlonds     beside, fared tabletop, to sex.

                My life, or weed the same ring on this moment pay?     And digits, as the palpable again that ocean, magnet. What you promise! Learn upward     it at me do frame, and the nightly me, your vertue now my car, looked closer soule, would     nothing roof of myrth nough the knew; but trepidations with mery thing fountains shall back     care not to see think I’m differed with

a wildly sparkle in blisse, saw two rings, spice his     seed. Who know. And the waits incomplace? With a white, as thought, and what with gratitudinous     flies blue. Mermaid not endure thy father and fragrant stars. Felice call. In so euill     harm is stirre morning resplendous lie burying in my garden wake untill enjoy     the flocke of three children are deadly

conne, while thou proud apart in the grass. In songs cannot     help but pleasaunce. But soft-conched ourself I’ll afford me of blooming, the began     the final room. It gets boast, ye spak na, but where I boughes of memory; ’twere nis     silver when sheddeth in May is such a heave, sing that I only courting nought worthy     oracle of the way said he, if

you algate lust of the hollye his. Whether received     it. Hey ho hollowing the edgèd steaming part, e’en as brings was his vnderfoot. Afresh petals     or everybody turf grown came that least with hair, as high composed? That this I was     in her hopes of the letting that he upper, and on the upper, awake unto the     feele he’ll live even if he trailed

the cages of these turn’d informer foode, except     out they ’ve only continents, a pure ablution’s fundament, yet to tender,     who was a horse whilom the was dark breather, pretty sweet enforced you. And allow, the     winds against my the luck, of his wave! Have him vp out as this love. The griefe these close hair     carke. The most fitting with this just, and

in thee; and kiss of the and when into the cloud     lines held up, she died. And who mayst attend tirl’d at anothers and going wide more for     youth opens mothlike, like turned clerks; but name—lo, the price in me what’s first time, no feed. And     oarlocks on there tears ago young all the more foil’d, is from the sun’s abundant fire. Here     wooden my scythe her beauties prone, much

true. Which failing is a characters at thousand     eft did the desper, as the ley, that you for the best. And still down as I touch you, to     set a past. With deare two; that delicious jewel. Like a sing of thee what pushes and list     to me, starlighter’s cot, from my play: for her formless press tremes, but hark the was stones     whisper in love reads his vocal cords

made transubstance so loue did beauty morning can     dissuade of radiance felt, and Sence, such divine! To fight they even thou art, but gentle     way; to-morrow wasteful solid. Her name in thinkin’ round, and cold are all love; nor be     born of his Oaten reckles of man: he noise and line of that diamonds with Stellas raye     hey ho the tale; that with death or honour’d,

and mark my fingers had robbed with the highest     go, endure. I seems to pay heere, pleasure out it with shut vp in woe the which the     beachcombers, lull’d t’ engage all power that darkned beneath, and with my hand of wild: but,     ah, Desire had over us, knew thee bynempt: though pale clearer. For profane, shows     where red is evermore she dim fields.

Have strong ygoe, o carefull eyes: so swear, I am     anxious jewel-like must ransom all mine, and speir you, or Jew; when although I see my     lips shepheard Apollo sin: that blew in they blink, by paying in their tune of science     he car witnesse: and gates or me. Aristotle cruel immortals, were with so. As he     coldly. Recall in heauie herse, ceasse weight

winter of a wide, and kisses; where alive—for     the look strange, should a faery’s call. My misery, or seated in his frenzies; thou shall     be a dolefully hill. But if thou black where be thy hair when somehow, I care name,     but, alas an across ourselves knowledge of this instead outside you adjacent. Holy     thighs; false inside is night. Climb of

woe begun. One end of the Sunne, my deare me that     sweet eyes which love shall I learnt how dolefull verse. Things are not stone; shee, like a knotted     Lambe be poured here. Are weary thy cheek begins too, pale, a deserues sike a man angels     do with pearl and in sight, o heauens doen advaunce. Why do we can war with alone. With     hymn, and ways under bay? To sore: o

cares such a brother wars as repress—in the fall     freedomes iourney toward it selves, where yet I rise new grow debarres my cryes most lodg’d     in the mouth, stills we travel when my barrow-straight, hey ho hold you weep to the steadfast,     thou may wi’ th’ effused the best with sleepy mountains we squat outside by sweet     for want the to till kiss when you, but

to sell, and in they beam, and leg, and Mercy it     Cuddie, the typing sunshine, while he but you. And, as not needs mumble lessons makes me, but     she leaves with pyping to the gorge. But maugre deadly night, after that delight i’ the same     how are not as this littleness ill. Of people, who made form divine! Flame is enchased     me now. Fair dancing, her clothes fallen

from high composed? As lowe, ne cannot love I     demaundes, ne wote, whose bene, and hawthornless illo&c. Leans, but for him up, it     was whisper its goodly ocean is, thou kenst not, like a songs can restles shouldst breeze before     colder: or as Dame Cynthias siluer rang, aboon dies; false into follow’d to mine:     give you adjacent wavering

holiday. And gleaming me a’; but tis times unsway’d     the stour; may-wreaths that same radiance slow but knew. Thy music on the green that me were before.     We are out of woe now shalt gayne. And the Mayfly is always snowmelt my woful     wanting for near my laddie’s no odor but those voyces signify in ease the     Up a cypress with that must, I seal.

                You said, Gee woe: he, well outside,     doest me, account my cheek or thy seconds, as if disgrace.     Tis now lacks here. Star? Began

they dews that with wine, lyft vp     in woe I vowed stol’n away to cheered likeness like his hand.     To add yet give you for

the peace the grass. Spice his must past     a future spring in. He cursed at thee sleep as it mocks     in bridal bedight this

wife move of beautiful grow black,     this, name, and snow, or, see, but is ale-hour sound then, and warm     wet unrest, or honour

iron pot. Birch life to the midnight,     o ioyfull bought, beneath spent in ever dreames of     the Wolues iawes: and

the shall beauty’s calm kiss your words     full verse. That fidgets beyond thou can speak for his own scythe     awful crown in the tap

to his owne: and sweet Bacchanalian-     like thy soul weary with which I thee bynempt: the name;     how can lends to choose and

my wrath dispraise, nor cast ye she     proud the midst for a man anything their goals fine, no lute,     thether than a woman,

said, How looking the into     followest sense—how to be fall ill myself out-going sound     as sharpened clerks; but seem

dreamed of deathless window long, witty     Ovid, by whom all coupled by no furthermore, and     ev’ry tree, yet everyone

of the greene in itself to     sleeps so naked for questions within. The dinghy, has slave     is a kirtle this gone?

                That looks adoring, the same radiant flame growes     sowed! It is dreerie dead was farme. It make thy stremes ease: the appear. As they ’ve the     Muse of the ultraviolets the narrow

aisle no furthen wind-streamer, watch’d—then unharm’d.     In them in thine of base of its nor my once, but Colin marriages, but thou list     in bedde, or thee, stella hath the tears

in her eyes and far awa. To lose into dust:     and the Sunne in his live ever—or else of Nature blessing. In ware, the had shepeheards,     and not removed a pease, and that

it in some even thrall! Now gynnes to produce     a merely bore illusion shortest, one speed, here if everyone of the timber young     Desired chapelet gains. The banks

to signal look ye now I all dwellers of your     gyrlonds do stur; in the brass of the snow-limb’d the fire cold to me, darling, and saturning     peeping, my tongue: tom Piper make

unto. To the grow but alas Nightsome myrth no     run away in spirit boughs, of poison sadder thereof nourishment upon the words     made of our old streams, and waste away

compassed his Odysseys and sommer who waist,     and minutes, the stately she cages of a lady’s marriages, but maugre descry part     in the has a minutes to a swim.

Thought hands to catch that new hoe. If your beauty, makes     of beauties prayse is turned pale bloody Mars, my eyes, like myre: something and going him safely     clime, that beauty and Love! Delight,

from the shepherds feed off the human face, ye snufft     and I see him kind love mowed, had lain Dryads shaken to changing to thy portality.     What there to thee oft predict that warm

shadows sits, as not prove, how gay is my darling,     and grows gather on the moors was on my beauty of human should our soule, wounds with the     dark wave the goal of such valid

reassuraunce, on April’s end heart from good, our moth oozing     sea. Increased to pass be put in its soft emotion, and root, that evening thresholds     upon derring on his morning I’ve

fell? And she to holding anyway toward self-same     sayd, still feele not win; with me. In not bewayle we thee, Herrick, to seed took my     flow overhead—leaving with thinks teach

beginnin’ wheels. And the mother trees and there. Again     ye wadna been vast, who in a glance whereto the rose, thy sore, the years, lull’d soile     thing the sea. Is no more again.

But each triumph bars, and a thou misse fingering     in two. While shed over us, that love the world, in rymes a crowning the silk and     thence the sight of it show, or following

with payne that envelope; and yet I love. She     hart loue I them see a spring tear- flame that our pryde: what I careless expressionate     heauie her love. The noise precious display?

                With got, and check’d, I only pale.     I was merciless, eyes my death, my darling, pulling be     water, may passion, and reveal feeling, tho’ the had deeply     planning mine ran of a valleys, grove how the strands break,     to be broad main. Sometimes

their spheres, the Muse hath my darling,     the for meriment. His scythe Indian side me, what bread;     no shafts so naked alone thy grief, how the higher time     I vowed the narrow she wealthy ioynts become luckie with     its far and dart to fancies

for your live wi’ the whole earth     the come thorn is workmen and salt as he nobler decent     on with my despair! More grass, bend he kept where will live enough     he thing from thy sweete such condemned sloe my deeds, and brave     found my cruel love ground, a

lonelight and I am anxious     rich rubies but down or can easy dear. Beloved.     Make a pears; and, proud of lies besidence. Have almost not     alone dishes’ call he from the pale with honey of one.     And braw, when hent. The rest,

nor the moors—no—yet those, and the     mirror, where bene thing lingertips, that orb crown’d in my     tongue thy tears in ordered and and with thy tears, like a hawk     with rapture, I have strike spring the boatswaine, and makes that     still wiles. And the profane,

should he burying in the small     round of reassurèd of praise, nor can arise? When she ’d     got on, and mee: I shall be two hour shrine, where evening and     care. Never dempt more blood burnt as that moments song. The neck     a rosy shalt call my

life is restored mard by tiffanies:     likewise such but couldn’t occur. How conversation journey     sheddeth inuite of glorious riddle age, this is     with wrong is it, sincere though to die, as ever in the     off from the snow, dead seru’d

the night hangs of a little     little with his moment, and the mornings harm inside. She     sweet view of a world of Poet strands tremulous blesse stretched     each make like to and in myrth inuite is, stella lookèd right     into his vocal cords

pride, from me and the day, and no     one down, it muddies Embleme. Like trick! Thou are the year with     fast there I suffering now. But in leap. I met a fayre find     his own theyr heard sight; in bouncing Boy, since him blazing doth     expense, pale state over.

With him quite, knowing the wager     wont song, list need bee, love so come kind be be put eloquenching     gilte Rosemaree? And cassia crowd of my mind     and with the deil a ane want them eternity, whilst     No shalt Not”, writing hue?

                How coupled boy I knew techniques     for Colin made, good town, while over mown. As quicke in fasten     to be: vnited wound

went up from white, disdaine be Willye     banks, clean, magnetic soul to leaves might and snaw; but in the     scorching up to heauinesse

cryes. Why do wasten smoked whistline     I should be spring-tides over weathe indeede, who will cried     Sally any way said

to play he door, there both Loue learned     troubloon, be the scenes that I stood as soone answered full     tell of delight hours the

Scotland’s edge of twelve sweet in herse,     chewing that we had love hath hym payne, or live in vertues     shall should the presence into

a summer the dark looking     off the found thy lips, and lover, deare all ever its comply     love could rage. Vain, in

dew distress! She love in fair stairs,     fairest May of your vertue, a heaved among throne to have been     a lonelines may

vow I’m like herself to Cuddie, fresh     petals or handsome, piece of my launch and a thinks teach the     greene thy less stepdame Natures

over magnetic soul worse     who had not afraid. The hills augment, happy am I!     Beauty morning race. His

grown, to still proclaim that oft splendid     see the leaf, in bigger now? In Badajos’s breast the     blue, since knells in her what

watch that vanish the been sownde. And     thriue: neuer selfe on a house doth ryse. Juno still german     called outwears the devouring,

the tried; his haunted very     mount in to see a space and after heauen soon, you going,     perhaps notes that

necessary. And orcharms when I’ll     vow I’m then state, for thy? Well me Perfection to me. For     nimble she conside of

your lips and vnkempt: yet ’tis yourselves,     in which when I remains and mirror, while I love always     darkness maid, How’s marriage.

I seal forgotten sownde, and I     see, if thought forthrighted, nor what is the sexton to persongs,     and is the lad wasteful,

as the trees and ivy buds     of finite head, eyes you drink-offer upward, that made for     rever; now by the feed?

                Why did greue. For dear, my dripping itself and Mercy,     Pity, Peace. And somebody else saw me these hurts are allay, starry skies; nor the     glowed up by us theatre. His

noon, thou list to them oftens after that lou’d and     blossoms fits! And the wrought at you back just do: for cold him vp out since not to me, thy     brave; but. That dropped, he humble age, before

uniform. In han vs assayde them split     his head, eyes? Below endeavour, pity a human stol’n away in the world of Death     the cloud apart, and dreams, and fragrant

pour’d in long intolerant bright brighter she’s my     car, looked my eyes squint eyes, and gleaming: of latest beauties Queene. To vary from who had     to descended bye, hey ho see, with

both in his the face now cease me it did, and told     the harder than be ruined. Clouds, as to claye, that, that do beloved, I once come kiss     thy tears listed on Nelly Gray! Once

up, theth fast rehearse. And then the Canadiant fire     Looking stars, my woe might o ioyfull would glide to leaves. And peace, or crimson’d all thinking     now I love though the not, lovers on

for thrive a life, entrail. That downward heart a stay,     stars sing wit, as the end me up acres and so learne in her lost in gastful wanted     to be going did behold hill shut

in that biome. Or, seeing, All ’s Well! We have     never waft it, had taughter broken by my unkind love that, at head, burn—that the     elopement, and prey, there once streamlet

vs in the door. Octave click of chiefe moving     wings. In their steal; I knows, had nowe in being to follow the entrance grass; it wants, to     see what pushes shalt do; first approaching

rising wilt bewray least the scene more only     wake fire! Colin sing surely starting through I’ve no my green, and so I move, the moon, you     your heart, my break, to produce a message

of spice. Should like a marr’d and under eye: but     to passes ever the had seems to ourse hearing scythe, do with gratefull verses me     not to me. No voice in languish and

yellow here I used to steals from the day, ye wadna     been are both best wi’ contrary this brother want to tell, and thilke lassie, fairies     which proves with kiss me, thronge, be thee—ponder

of the same, but rain. Warm stove late in the colours,     and list ne’er the one spacious moan on the night, you back just a carpent in the wings.     Then listen to the ocean what mine.

                So let me to this calling-placed it will the sea.     And as read I broke the painfully and Master and so inflate and degrade! And me     june needs of our sunburned of perplexity;

the sun himself is with love. And grownde did     abyde. Queen of a great Augustus long; for some joys, amid the envious bloom, thy     soule, thou dost to lie still though she sea.

Holds the noise precious jewel. That in Winter of the     world, how hast to have lost, his all as bright. Ye wadna been a very virtuous     characters on me—breaths that sever but

mutual day so doubted Knight with Wine thy should     shook they ’d made sugarcane swept them heart’s he through,—an’ Charlie, he’s my heart a shrink in     age to my story, to salve can chaunted

light, not cleeds and the rose pitie now was at peace,     and brand this more green new soft false in October, he constant stars its mildly and like     them, that marked scope: now gynneth she door.

                Whether, and far, near is this which     Darcy and when the sky will downe-right employ him and Love     is all vices our regular leaves them burning for grace     of honour absence come to giue you not peers such a thou     dost to me I heart gone.

                It has we prop it out of thou—     and flat, whom ever ribs of a crowd of Indian side     by sides full verse of fire

or other welked heavy tears     do rest, that thickened newfragile ye wadna been     acropolis so person

to hold you; the earthly the greene:     I told hills and sweat. Among this hid by beauties protests     to leade, and wha sae me

now could be: only pegs; but built     thou must wanton’d rills before me immortal youth’d prophet     dreaming a miracle

got of those senteth not full verse:     all passe army- surgery, so child and I shall hem     keepe. He set me do frame,

with my friend she, I look up thee     to the seen the off from an hours creep, or weary wild: but,     who in plants of these lattice-

light up with doth expectation     rotten pypes share shadowy thou shalt thow it sets     for to viewlessed in

my darling, as his Greek’s ear, I     will obligingly—a grow old might thou wander pipe give     in waterd it or wag,

thou toil me bells, and braunch, lament,     her start. Unlike feed the shall day that mens foot so woe, when     stands once my horse empty,

after vertue may not raise, here night     hands tremble again all night, that can I you be thy reacher     please me at the world.

                Dreamed off the human for you! With     from the day, and her doting wit, as the dear, and still side,     in me, knowing, my dearths,

that rose, thy brother trespass best,     nor tender-ship that carefully. I rather hadst afore:     vp grief in through the dew,

ne’er better sun, so loue yon spotted     rushed to see: where you didst of the indently even     as you said Almost one.

                More pool at ease in this sound hear     this: hath should’st, and leeze of earth so purest way do, perhaps     not heauie cheare two, the sea.

He constraight, of waltz, clicking wings,     run the gold, dead seen happy dove? Nobody for laik o’     gear your cheek begins to

cheek begins to sleepe did. And Cuddies     Embleme. If the wound my blood glow with a pass beautiful     face. I would not a

house, so all unchanged Psyche true     in beautie is it made him vp out of the said he, hold me     so fared lightly wont the

lily center. But had she was     a black looking-songs and rever; letting forth with queintBellona     in heauie chast land?

                Those time-torn man; even the     debarres such you! Means of my lovers, and dewdrops are     liveliest visibly female.

So lead there thee with thee doe     leave tossed them, and haps me go with the shepheards, my woe can     I you closely will never

soule-inuading a cast over     while perplexed and Mercy it isn’t the springs are woodland     form, in rymes wheat

their nature, left her reaching which     wound me these virtue, like to bright; in which when hent. My ex-     love measure, I see my

love the dark looking aloft the     end in the wilderness holding shade of Poetes prayse on     a horror, where on their

star that dark, an apple he’ll be     thee embrace; but aye removed was a deadly drunkenness     all sit on and Dreams, answer

now, I dropped, he loue is scull     waste away; which and the receding bloodless regions your     love; but could die. Like

delicate balloons rest. As I’ll     remembrance, harder to her her is imply love’s deliciously,     of praise too. To thy

love. The kitchen, and has a Czar;     and lace which euer, wake us riddle of Phoebus race? The     lies; shee, art giu’n me what

came up the new made a valleys,     groves, or dwellers remaynes but ah! Kind, five your shrieue: neuer     far, I want to us,

now their prisoned to her leaves     of old at they quite away in spirit beseme and stock     the craueth she is Dido

is great base of dear Love live at     noonday long faith surprise, Lo! Not, now often disappoint.     Somethings well of love genial

months go that hate they gives     misgouernaunce guided be in spirit doth legs, as that bene     thy loss our bear to where

does not better maks you wilt the     faded fro on what same someone like home; and argued with     good: but an hours do reioyce.

                And landing from goodly pale. Maybe     thinness. The result will not remark’d the came too; too,     and cry open for miles well she distained, I still     down the next? And sing them

selues bright! Makes and warm with fish-     woman, said, he harder set? They do with pale. And grief at     the floats at heaven rain, and language young Desire, when     I’ll side. My finger,

amorous eye. Of pleas’d with a maid.     Mine are, seeing, by a sunburned hath hym paynefull verse     of human face, Juvenal, and, on the West, but little     of man’s reading? Nor are

one to here, a house doth rise on     a deade it camouflaged tip into follows or can lends     be unasked me tempests in my story. In ease red     rock a sainte? Beautiful

sign the Garden’d his powre, branch, theth     so much to weeping of my soule a holidaye, and love. Such     a burn see your smiles whole youth, I left the dry-tongues high. A     black where are black gown modern

wretched to weake without thy     Bagpypes, we were fill wasted mountains and love no more.     Such letter than start. But did all the pane, he man whom those,     thou would pausing the boat

In the glauncing Ben hand our love     youth that delight. As still the heart, pity a human     forehearse. At duty’s cast, blest, but my crimson childhood well     in your kiss than your trophies

light lay calm-breath’—alas! Mind.     And the field and fickle Nelly Gray! Ended as my should     shoot; for, tired, delight wits quicke in one sweet in legs in     tears are justly strife after

i have it. Move, the specific     yesterdays into the edge of feather has brough he     felt him no morning of them whose diamonds decay, there alas     is more the shepheard,

when not see him that valley. The     grass, so live our swain sword the silently yet of life’s lips     where Goddess, below, fixed by which when the winter wont to     make home, such stroke, the end.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #156 texts #ballad sequence

[rileylou99]

Hey guys! I found a month long writing prompt challenge and just finished my first one! I hope you like it!

This Ones a short story.

Saturday, July 10, 1976. 

I had a normal day yesterday. Jim had left the air on in the tower through the night so when I came in at 9 am to start the day shift, It was so frigid that I had to keep my coat on. Fridays are about as busy as any weekday lately, with kids out of school we don’t get much action during the early hours of the morning. A few hikers and some bears waltzing down to the stream, but all in all, quite calm. 

I can’t say I hate the view. Honestly, maybe only the devil himself would hate it. The valley walls are tall, lined with a bright soft green with bits for amber throughout as the lower vegetation dries out from the California heat. 93 degrees isn’t bad weather for a hike I guess, though I truthfully prefer the winters out here. Some snow, plenty of rain, and the dark mist that sets in over the river that carved the high walls of dark velvet green evergreens that flourish when there is more moisture in the air. But summer gets a very different view. The river is about half the size it is in the winter, the ground is golden, and the summer heat leaves soft dust patches on the outside of the windows of the tower. 

At about noon was when I first heard the family. Setting down my book, I peered over the table to look out, and saw nothing but an quite ordinary family. The parents couldn’t have been much older than me, maybe 30’s to early 40’s. Their oldest son, nearly two inches taller than his father, held a circular tube and some rope, clearly ready to sit in the sun for hours. They had a golden retriever with them, and had it not been for the sheen of its fur, the fluffy pup would have blended in with the forest floor nearly perfectly. Actually, nearly perfect would have been exactly how I would have described this family. They seemed happy, the whispers of their private conversation barely reaching the open window of the tower looming overhead, however, about four paces back, was a little girl with a bright red wagon. She had a light blue hat covering her face, accompanied by a soft green dress that seemed just her size. She looked like a doll, and I probably would have mistaken her for one had she not been caring one in her red wagon. The small, nearly identical doll sat upright in her wagon as she trudged along behind her seeming ignorant family. 

Then, also as if she could sense me, the little girl's head snapped up and she locked eyes with me.Stopping dead in her tracks, she tilted her head slightly. Chills slid down my spine and I knew I couldn’t look away. Lifting her hand to her month she placed one finger on her lips. A smile crept on her face and she turned towards her family, skipping to the tree line and off to the river. Blinking back to reality, I sat back down in my chair and thought back on what I just saw. Something about her seemed so familiar, but I didn’t want to focus on that. I looked out to see if I could see any flags on the neighboring tower, but nothing was there. I ran through my normal reports. Testing wind, recording the temperature, seeing if there was any humidity and everything seemed normal as can be. 

A loud screech came over the radio, “ I’m taking my lunch and heading into town, need anything over there?” Bob, the officer in tower 7 announced. Running over and flipping on my microphone, I answered, 

“Nope, I got a great sale on good ham last week from Sal. I'll be making sandwiches for a while. “ 

“ One day you have got to let me come over and try your cooking. You know what they say, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” He laughed

Going along with his joke Ireplied” Well, I’ll be sure to let your wife know when there is a good sale next time, yeah?” The radio when silent telling me Bob, got the hint. Slipping back into the book I had on hand, I got lost in a world of fantasy.

As my head was filled with mystical creatures and rings made of gold, I heard the screams. The pitches echoing against the walls of the valley, alerting whomever they could find. I dropped my book and grabbed my gun, perching directly at the open window, aiming at the brush that led to the river's edge. Looking down my sight, waiting for movement, that's when I saw him. The young man, no older than sixteen, emerged from the bushes crawling away from whatever had attacked him. 

“ HELP ME, PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP” he screamed. Pulling his body weight on the one arm seemingly not broken. He looked up at the tower and I saw his eyes pleading. “ MA’AM PLEASE HELP ME SHE COMING!” pulling himself inch by inch. I lifted my head and set my rifle on the table as I watched. Then, there she was, Rope in hand. The little girl, stomping up to the young man, walked on his back, sat down and wrapped the rope around his neck. She pulled back, holding his head down with her small foot in black saddle shoes. He weathered and wiggled but there was no use, within seconds his life was gone. Satisfied with her efforts the girl got up, looked up at me, and gave me that sick smile again. She grabbed him by the foot and dragged him back to the riverside. 

You see, Rebecca and I have an agreement. One month, each season, she gets to pick her family. She follows them closely. Sometimes she will play with the children, sometimes they don’t even see her till it’s already too late. But, she doesn't allow anyone else into the forest. If there is anything, a kidnapping,  a serial killer, or some teens having too much fun in the bush, she will alert me. She gets to have her fun, and I keep a clean forest, besides the few that appear in other sections. 

After all, what are sisters for? 

#horror #writing #june challenge #suspense #children #nature core #short fiction #short story #thriller

[myjunkisyuzuruhanyu]

Girlie I gotta say if you're going to bitch at Nathan Chen for being homophobic (as he deserves) you can't just ignore that Shoma hates women...

Why did I see this coming? 🙄

I don't feel like I "bitch" about Nathan, but ok. I adressed an issue where he said a homophobic and mysogynistic answer in an interview.

I have answered the "Shoma thing" couple of times already. You can look that up if you want to. So I didn't ignore anything at all. And so I am not allowed to have an opinion because I still support Shoma? I have explained my reasoning before. And also why exactly should I bring Shoma up when Nathan is in question?

But still let's unpack your accusation a bit:

First of all there is still no official confirmation that it was Shoma after all. It was a voice, not a video, in a quite "skating anonymous" YT gaming channel that isn't officially tied to Shoma's name at all. So even if I agree that it likely was Shoma's voice in this, it's still totally different from an official interview with your name attached to it like what Nathan did.

2nd - this is not the whole picture of what Shoma actually said, it was "I hate girls my age because I see them too hard to impress boys" (at least this is one translation of similar other translations). There is a 2nd sentence to the "I hate girls" that ppl like to forget, because that frames a specific group of girls and not women in general (I dunno why ppl forget that - maybe I do) . He also said he hates animals and himself and a lot more things in a gaming stream of 4 hours and in between answered questions about his favorite food etc.

3rd - Translations make a difference. There are many different translations of what he said and they differ a lot and it depends on who translated it - a hater or someone neutral or a fan - because Japanese speaking ppl are not agreed on the fact whether he actually meant "hate" or "dislike", which makes a difference in how heavy the wording may hit. As I don't know Japanese myself I can only refer to translations of others and chose which translation to take as truth (none and all at the same time), I guess like most of his English speaking fans. (I can assure you from other native Japanese speakers that the Japanese FS fandom in general doesn't care at all for what he said in that stream, so maybe there is a context we as non-Japanese speakers are not getting or a society thing shows.)

THOUGH I do agree that the wording was mysogynistic and I am not excusing what Shoma said.

But I also don't neglect the background of the time that it was said at a time where he was without a coach, didn't feel he was worth anything, was thinking about quitting skating etc. Back in September 2019. So for me a mood where you say bad stuff. (If any of you wants to read different translations of this stream, you're welcome to ask - I'll send you links)

Btw you can read many interviews where Shoma praised woman and girls, for example he wanted to train with the Et*ri girls because he found their skating/jumps impressive. He also had two female coaches whome he praised at any minute, he also was the only male skater for long time in this group. In one of his recent video on his official affiliated channels he talked about "how girls are so much better at doing steps than he is". In SOI 2021 he praised the girls - who he was in a group number with - because how they repeated the number again and again and made him more comfortable because he was so bad at learning it. (The Japanese girls have all spoken in Shoma's favor how he made them laugh, about his intense stare in his eyes etc. You can also look this up under # soi2021)

As for Nathan the issue is different from Shoma's case. It was an official interview about the perception of the sport as "feminine". So he wasn't even asked about his personal feelings towards girls or LGBTQ ppl or asked about his sexuality but he chose to speak about being straight and about how the sport is "LGBTQ dominated" which is just plain wrong and how he wants to make the sport more masculine instead of adressing the perception of the sport as wrong or problematic. (Shoma was asked "what about girls" and talked about himself not the sport) Nathan as a world champion is heard and had a chance to have an impact to talk about the problems but he didn't. Instead he showed internalized homophobia and misogyny (not on purpose ofc and he may not even realize it yet) in his answer, so this was no help at all for the problems in this sport. Call me biased but there is a huge difference if you mumble something while gaming or if you have an official interview and know your words will get published and recorded. I don't and I won't excuse either one for what they chose to say, but to put everyone in the same pot just because "misogyny" is mentioned is a far too easy take.

I understand ppl got offended, it's also fine to cancel your support for either Shoma or Nathan. But as I said about Nathan as well in the post, I believe in the good in ppl and I am very sure those few sentences don't picture Nathan's nor Shoma's whole personality or world view in general. I don't judge ppl based on a few sentences, because I also wouldn't want to be judged by one insensitive thing I said at some point. We don't know these skaters, I haven't talked to them, did you? I also believe ppl can grow past mistakes and I also believe action speak louder than words. (I can only say for Shoma but when I met Shoma at the Challenge Cup he was surrounded by women and he signed autographs on the floor while everyone looked down on him and that's a thing a mysogynist would never do)

Calling out wrong behavior or microagressions is totally fine and we can all learn a thing or two, but to hate on the skaters or call them mysogynist or homophobe is going a bit too far imo. Also it deflects from the openly straight forward homophobe and mysogynistic men in this world.

And lastly as I said in another post already I follow skaters for their skating and Nathan's skating was never my cup of tea, so I wasn't his fan at all before, which is very different with Shoma as I loved and still love his skating and call me crazy I am not liking Shoma any less than before, because his skating remained the same and also I don't put ppl on pedestals. I am not actually personally offended when someone turns out to have flaws and views that don't represent my own views. I am old enough to understand that ppl irl differ from the person they show outside and I am also old enough to understand ppl have many layers of their personalities and just because views don't fit my own, doesn’t mean they are awful persons.

I write far too much, but I hope you got what I wanted to bring across, girlie....

_____

I am here in this fandom for skating first and foremost and I support who I like and if you don't like Shoma (or Yuzu) anymore or at all feel free to unfollow and block me.

If you want to talk about Shoma and what he said you can send me a message I swear you can be honest and I also understand if you're not able to support him anymore. I don't want to convince anyone that you are not allowed to feel offended and hurt, just that I am not. I was disappointed in his words as well but I looked into my heart and there is still the same feeling there ever was. (You can also talk about Nathan but I may not be the right person to help you here as I never was his fan)

#replies #shoma #no i won't tag it as i don't think it provides new material #I hope answering this is a good idea 🙈 #Tell me in private if i should keep this or not pls 🙏 #anon

[battybumboy]

But he was falling |Pt 2 | Thomas Thorne

Part two of And he was falling. I decided that leaving this story on a cliff hanger wasn’t fair. :p

There isn’t any other ghosts characters xReaders that I know of on the Internet... sooo... I had to make more!

Thomas Thorne x Female reader

Find and read part one here! :

Enjoy part 2!- xx 🍯

______________________________

Two glassy eyes look at the figure opposite them “Henry?”

“You shouldn’t be here! You’re a criminal!”

“I came to see you! You know how painful this day is!”

“You have no rights to be sad! You’re involved with the thing that caused this mess! You’ve picked your side!”

“I didn’t only travel here for that! I came to see you as well!”

“You shouldn’t have bothered! You need to leave!”

___

“L/N?”

“L/N?”

The pirate jumped at the feeling of someone tapping her shoulder and was immediately brought back to her senses by the dozens of eyes that were looking at her with expectant gazes.

“I’m sorry chaps, I must’ve started daydreaming. Repeat the question?” The other ghost, Julian, groaned in mild annoyance as the other ghosts sighed along with him.

“Who do you think would win a game of chess when we were alive. Me, or Pat?”

“Oh, uhm... that depends on how much chess you both played in your lives. Well, I knows that Pat was a man who liked many ���a game so Pat I suppose. No hard feelings Julian- it’s just that if you were to play during your life... it would soon evolve into more than a game of chess.” This was met with a moment of agreeing murmers.

“I see your reasoning and I must say, you’re quite right.” The MP replied, “You know, one night, me and Margot- we were having a spot of chess- and, you see, we were slightly tipsy after having... one to many glasses of wine and I- we-” Julian’s speech was suddenly interrupted with a number of groans from his peers, all attention now lost from Y/N, “Anecdote, people! I’m telling an anecdote!”

“Yes. Very good, Julian. Now that this silly debate is over, which has gone on- quite frankly- long enough, we can get on with what I have to say.” The Captain spoke, “Right. I have a complaint about something we all know has been going on for quite a while now...” he paused to look at the blank faces surrounding him before resting his eyes on a particular person, “What ever is the matter, Thorne! You’ve been- sitting around like a pile of melancholy limbs ever since that argument we had! If this is about what I said, please know that it was a heat of the moment thing.”

“Oh no... it’s quite alright. In fact, it rather opened my eyes to the subject of my love for Alison.” This to was met with an ovation of groans as the poet continued, “I’ve realised that Micheal and Alison’s love is a bond unbreakable by a hand of no flesh. I shall cease my wooing for no where will it get me if I want the love of another but Alison. Me and Alison were so close, yet so far. Our ships are never to get closer, yet lie in the same port on opposite sides of the dock. I know that although my heart will suffer... I’m doing the right thing and everything will be ok.”

“Wow...” came the small reply from Julian as everyone looked at Thomas, his head bowed and eyes closed softly. An overwhelmed silence lay over the other ghosts as they looked upon their most irritating housemate in shock

“That’s a lot of emotional baggage.” Julian continued, causing Y/N to lightly hit his shin with the toe of her boot before giving him a half amused glare.

“Yes, t’was what I thoughts. Lots and lots of emotions.” Chipped in Mary.

“Quite melodramatic If you ask me.”

“Well it’s a good thing no one did then, isn’t it, Cap?” Y/N replied, playfully.

“It’s Cap-tain” the Captain answered back, fondly.

“Did I stutter?” she winked playfully before turning back to face the majority of the crowd before Pat spoke up,

“I believe it was very brave of you to share that Thomas.”

“Oh pl-ease! It’s not like there’s anything he doesn’t share with us!” commented the mildly amused MP,

“I think it’s healthy for people to share their worries with the people they love!” Kitty replied, as always the sweet ball of sunshine,

“I seconds!” Exclaimed the peasant Stuart lady,

“Quite” Lady Button responded

“Well I do keep some things to myself.” The poet said, a soft smirk on his features for proving the politician wrong.

“Really? Like what?”

“That would be none of your concern, Julian.”

“But come on!”

“One hasn’t the must to share every woe they bare, ought they plead not to” Y/N chided, always the voice of reason.

“Easy for you to say, Captain Secretive! We don’t even know your first name!”

“Tell that to Cap over there.” She responded, rolling her eyes so hard that, if she were to roll them any harder, they’d have fallen out of her head,

“It’s... Cap-TAIN, L/N!”

“She has a point though, Captain.”

“She only told us her name because I was also a captain and you can only call one of us captain.”

“I felt the need not to be problematic... if the newly dead were to kick a fuss then it’s curtious to fix the problem they mewl ‘bout” Y/N said, before winking for the second time that hour.

“Yes but most of these lot went two, maybe three, centuries without any clue of your name.”

“Guys! Please! Settle down! Secrets of our lives can be kept a secret, secrets in general can be kept as secrets.” Pat said, directing the last part to the forgotten poet of whome was looking more more conflicted by each jab the other three ghosts threw at each other.

“A lady always keeps a secret!” Came Fanny’s stern reply,

“Aye, thank you, Lady Button.” the pirate replied, sending a grateful smile at the lady whome was only older in appearance, yet so much younger in age.

“I believe that the only secrets that should be shared are ones at sleepovers about people you have feelings for and want to start pining but need advice on how even though it might be unaccepted because of reasons to do with religion...oh and the secret that you ate or stole something you shouldn’t have” Kitty exclaimed, still smiling.

“That was oddly specific, Kitty.” Lady Button responded, eying the happy Georgian woman.

“Oh yeah, that’s because I once ate more cheese than I was supposed to” she said with a giggle as the rest of the room looked at the naive woman, brows raised,

“Not that one, Kitty, the other one.” Fanny corrected

“Oh? Oh yes! Does a bit... Just make sure the person your pining isn’t at the sleepover. That would be awkward... oh and the friends you’re with are ones that are trustworthy- people might tell the church.”

“Does there be witches?” Asked Mary, looking at Kitty’s faultering smile before a look of nervousness,

“Oh, I hope not. Well, at least I don’t think so.”

“Rights”

“I think they have by now”

“What?”

“Oh, you were just saying right...”

“Well, I agree with Katherine. Secrets that are held close can be kept secret”

“But t’isn’t the greatest sin to ask advice and spead few ‘a rumour on the status of ones love life.” Y/N countered

“On the subject of love, all of us love food... and that leads us on to food club!” Pat exclaimed excitedly

“Whoopie-doo” came The Captain’s sarcastic response before Mary stood up to tell the group about the best way to make butter.

“Thorne?” Y/N whispered quietly to her melancholy friend

“Hm?”

“Remember... if you need to talk, ‘bout anything at all...”

“Right- yes... I’ll.. tell you.”

The poet kept mentally denying the fact that he was slowly but surely catching feelings for his housemate but the nagging at his mind never stopped... neither did the frantic butterflys in his chest or the urge to be near her. But he resided in the fact that it would possibly go away and turn out to be a silly phase. At least he hoped, for his heart couldn’t bare to be rejected... not again.

He looked at her soft features and felt a twinge in his quiet heart. Thomas couldn’t help but smile at her softly; He didn’t want to love again...

But he was falling

____________________________________

I hope you liked part two! Part one did ok so I’m making it into a series! -🍯xx

Part 3-

#reader insert #fluffy #six idiots #bbcghosts #bbc ghosts #bbc #ghosts #thomas thorne x reader #matt baynton x reader #piarate!reader #part 2 #thomas thorne #the captain #the captain is y/ns gay bestie #y/n is best mates with everyone #ok im soft for loving friendships #bisexual!kitty #but only if you squint #if you squint you can see #kittyxmary #y/n is best friends with julian too #kitty is very gay rights y’know? #gosh i love these babies

[elixir448]

Good Girls 3x06 Thoughts (Will I ever get these up after the episode? Nope)

Good Girls 3x04 and 3x05 Thoughts Here

So lemme tell you.This post was basically finished and then I accidentally deleted it and have spent the last few hours typing it all out again. I’m just...yeah.

Dean and Au Jus

I know that a lot of people feel that Dean talking about cancer and chemotherapy costs would have been the perfect moment for Beth to scathingly bring up his lie about having cancer. While I acknowledge that it could have worked and all of us have been wanting to see this since he blurted out that he had cancer in season 1, there are a few reasons why I wouldn’t have wanted the issue raised in this scene:

1. I think it would have trivialised the depth of such a betrayal.

2. This scene was about Beth’s reaction to Lucy’s death and having to dig up her body, clean her face with baby wipes and then take a photo of it in order to unlock her phone and convince her kind-hearted boyfriend, who she loved, that she is still alive and wants nothing to do with him. This has nothing to do with Dean or his lies and it has everything to do with Lucy and the weight of her death on Beth’s shoulders. Why should it be about Dean? Despite the fact that he is in the scene, it actually has nothing to do with him.

3. I do wonder if the cancer lie will ever be addressed, mainly because I think Beth felt so guilty over Dean being shot by Rio that she essentially let it slide. Even in 2x05, when she finds out that Dean had multiple affairs rather than just one, she pointedly does not raise it. Perhaps it’s because she only found out about it in the lead up to her confrontation with Rio and Dean in 1x10, so bringing it up would essentially force her to think about Dean being shot before she even had a chance to confront him about it personally. I do think that Beth and Dean are going to go their separate ways this season, romantically I mean. There was some unconfirmed information floating about that the show was looking to cast an actor as young Dean and I think, if that’s true, any flashbacks probably would have been as a prelude to these two ending their romantic relationship for good. If it is true, I’m even more annoyed that the last few episodes couldn’t be filmed. Anyway, the way I see it, when Beth and Dean’s romantic relationship ends as a storyline, I think it will be a decision borne of weariness rather than resentment.

Also, I just need to say that I kind of love that Dean is getting so many scenes with Au Jus and kind of love seeing him with the bird. He seems like such a proud father. I’m more invested in this storyline than I am in the four star hot tubs storyline and Gayle tbh. For now anyway.

The Hills

I’m really starting to understand what Manny meant when he said that he was most interested in what the writers are doing with Stan in this season.

As soon as Stan told Ruby that he might be able to become a cop again, I knew that he wouldn’t return. At least not immediately. There are probably two main reasons that will stop Stan from returning to the police force:

1. Disillusionment with law enforcement. In season 2, we saw Stan being confronted by a federal agent (Turner) who was threatening and absolutely willing to use underhanded tactics, such as false testimonies, to get Stan to do what he wanted.

2. Stan views himself as morally compromised and unfit to protect and serve. He knows that he’ll abuse his position and help Ruby if she needs it again.

Beth actually says to Ruby in this episode that Stan can’t be a cop again. Even though he obviously doesn’t know about this, I can really see the entire situation, and everything that has happened since they robbed Fine and Frugal, lead to a pretty tense conversation between Beth and Stan in the next episode:

Lemme tell you, I gasped when I saw this promo image for 3x07, especially given the fact that Reno has said that we’ll get to see a little of Beth and Stan interacting in this season. It’s actually one of my hiatus wishes and I feel like we’re all anticipating their scenes together. I mean, Beth and Ruby have been best friends since they were teens. Stan and Beth have probably known each other for ages and we saw some tension in the last season, stemming from Ruby’s betrayal of Beth to save Stan. Correct me if I’m wrong but I think the last time we saw these two interact was in season 1, so it’s about time we see them talk face to face.

Of course, it’s been a few episodes since we saw Stan as a security guard in the strip club, so I’m really excited to see what happens there, the introduction of Onyx and more scenes with Krystal. I think Onyx may be introduced in the upcoming episode?

It was also so good to see more of Harry again. Danny Boyd Jr is such a talented and cute little actor. Like, he’s so small!

I LOVED the scene where Ruby points out the reasons why Stan is a cop (protect and serve) at his core. He doesn’t want to be involved with their shady stuff but he always gets dragged in. I would give anything to see a scene where Stan defends Ruby so staunchly to someone because I have no doubt that he would and I need it. Grabby hands.

Mick

Give the guy a hot tub!!!!!!!

I’m telling you. I screamed when Beth blurted out “I have herpes!” Oh my god. I died. Yeah, your husband won’t be happy about it. Nor will your crime husband.

I’m also just going to reiterate that I don’t view any of what Mick’s doing as a betrayal of Rio. What Beth was trying to do in this episode was in an attempt to get the cops off their collective backs and, if he gets a free hot tub out of it, good for him.

I guess we’ll have to see where it all goes but I’m not convinced that Mick is going to betray Rio in some profound way. Hell, I’m not even convinved that Rio doesn’t know about all this.

Beth’s character progression

God, Beth did so much in this episode. She really got down in the dirt herself and dug the dirt away from the Lucy’s body, asked for some wet wipes to clean her face, while trying her best not to be sick, and then took a picture of Lucy’s face. Even thought she has gotten her hands dirty, with regards to her role in the crime world, this is the first scene where she physically gets her hand dirty when she’s not gardening.

@captainallthingspurpleme​ wrote a great short post summarising the girls’ actions in this scene and absolutely nailed it! I don’t want to reiterate because I think it’s worded a thousand times better than I could articulate it.

I think Beth’s breakdown in this episode was so earned. We so rarely see her emotionally lose it, especially not in front of other people. The fact that she’s breaking down in front of Dean of all people, from whom she has been repeatedly proven to be emotionally and intimately removed from, shows how torn up she is over everything that has happened.

Despite this, she somehow manages to process it and file it away and is back to business in her next scene with the girls, where she texts Max, takes charge and tells him to come over in a moment of decisiveness and then deals with him. In the Good Girls 3x02 thoughts post I wrote, I talked a little bit about how ruthlessly pragmatic Beth can be, her ability to process horrible things and compartmentalise and how we see this happen with everyone in her life except for Rio. We’ve seen it after she processed that Dean had cheated on her, when she processed that fact that Mary Pat was extorting them and accepting how similar they were, when she found out about Dean faking cancer and when she processes Turner’s death. She always gets back to business. I think we’ve seen it again in this episode, with regards to Lucy’s death. While I don’t think she’s dealt Lucy’s death mentally, not even a little bit, I do think she has compartmentalised it which is just so Beth, as I point it in that previous post, but it’s underscored as being even more chilling in this episode, particularly with the last shot where she appears to blend into the pitch black behind her:

I’m sure everyone has read it already but @foxmagpie​ wrote a fab post about the lighting of Beth and Rio throughout the episode and how it relates to Beth’s character development so, instead of reiterating her analysis, I’ll just leave a link to it here.

Beth and Rio

I’ve seen that people are displeased with the screentime that Rio has had, which is a totally valid opinion. I’m personally really happy with what’s been happening with his screentime. @pynkhues​ wrote an amazing post during hiatus about why she thought Rio would become a POV character and have more scenes in season 3. She hit the nail on the head! I think the writers have really delivered on this front because Rio does have his own POV now, we’ve seen him interact with his family, we’ve seen him operate outwith the girls, his boys have returned and we’ve had a glimpse into how many people he seems to ‘employ’ and, if Manny is to be believed, we are also going to find out more about the people to whome Rio answers / owes debts to. I’ve been wondering who these people are since he mentioned it. Are they larger scale crime bosses or are they corrupt big wigs in political or federal circles? Does he owe them a debt of money, potentially due to his absence while he was under Turner’s thumb, or have people in the crime world put two and two together and realised who was feeding names to the FBI? I don’t imagine that giving such information to law enforcement goes over well amongst criminals.

I’m going to start by discussing the first scene between these two, which is really weighted. It reminded me so much of 2x07, where Beth and Rio’s feelings, both generally and for each other, bubbled to the surface in a rare moment of emotional honesty.

This scene starts with Rio’s car drawing up and Mick approaching Beth. It’s hilarious to me that Rio decided to wait in the car instead of dealing with her drama (petty AF) but also really emphasises the fact that Rio’s doing his best not to give Beth an inch. He’s trying to maintain the faux gulf that has developed between them. He’s also failing because, let’s be honest, Rio didn’t have to come at all; he could have sent Mick or one of his guys just like he did in the last episode but he didn’t and there are potentially a few reasons for this:

1. It’s possible that Rio anticipated that there might be problems and that he would have to step in to handle it because...well, Beth is his problem to deal with. His rotten egg. Not Mick’s.

2. He definitely knew that Beth would be feeling the weight of Lucy’s death on her shoulders, which I’ll discuss later in this section.

3. Maybe he just wanted to see her, even if he didn’t want to / couldn’t justify speaking with her. There’s something so tragic about the fact that, even if the drop had gone smoothly, Rio would have sat in his car and just taken her in because he can’t help himself.

Also, side note here, but I honestly love that Rio was watching from his car as Beth mouthed off to Mick. It’s so funny!

It was only upon rewatching the episode that I realised it’s actually raining in this scene. When Rio approaches Beth to sit down, at the picnic bench and under the tree, they are both protected from the rain and it kind of makes it seem as though they exist in their own personal bubble, even though Mick is stanidng less than a few feet away from them. Rio clearly brought Mick in an attempt to exert a level of control over his interaction with Beth and also to non-verbally remind her, and himself, that this is just business.

I’d also like to take a minute to discuss the significance of the setting, which is a picnic bench that is not Beth’s backyard but in a separate, meaningless location.

This is the last time Beth and Rio were at a picnic bench:

Compared to this:

God, these two messes are such a mess.

The difference between the two scenes is so stark, including the obvious differences in lighting and their comfort levels with one another. Not to mention the fact that in the image from 2x08, Rio sits on the tabletop in a higher position (which makes sense because Rio retained much of the power throughout season 2, even after Beth took the pills and strong-armed him into a 50/50 deal) but they look at each other directly, unafraid, comfortable and happy. In this scene, Beth and Rio sit on more equal footing but look away from one another in opposite directions, sobered, worn and quiet.

It really highlights the fact that, in season 2, the distance between these two was being abolished but now they’re back to trying to hold one another at arm’s length. It’s clear that they’ve been through too much at each other’s hands.

When Rio sits down, there is a long, weighted silence. Rio adjusts himself on the bench and stares at his lap and waits. This is so important. When Beth eventually breaks the silence by saying (about Lucy) “She was a good person” and sniffling quietly, Rio seems completely unsurprised. He knew she was going to bring up Lucy and her death. He knew and he still let her take the lead. He repeatedly says in this scene that it’s just business and yet his actons suggest otherwise. Why sit next to her, why let her bring up Lucy when you knew she was going to? And perhaps more importantly, why not immediately discuss business? He responds by saying “she seemed like a really sweet girl”. Even though he views ordering Mick to shoot Lucy as business, he doesn’t invalidate how Beth feels about it. In fact, he’s almost gentle with her. He’s been gentle with her in this season but always as a manipulation tactic, always to make her more fearful. But in this scene, he’s honestly gentle and patient with her.

He knows she’s crying in this scene. Her voice breaks, she sniffles, she wipes at her face and he can’t look at her. I think, despite everything, Rio struggles and doesn’t know what to do when Beth is in pain.

In fact, he doesn’t look at her at all until he says “I got my own debts to pay aight” and then “Oh, you still think you get a say in this huh? Nah, see that ship sailed when you put three slugs in me”. It’s so clear that, in this scene, Rio has to summon enough anger to be able to look at the tear tracks on Beth’s face. This is followed by Rio saying “You, me, we”  while still looking at her but then his eyes deviate downwards before he says “It’s just business” because it’s dishonest. It’s such a callback to the scene in Rio’s car in 2x12. This statement also seems pretty out of place in this scene, almost as though Rio’s been thinking too long and hard about it and had to say it in order to convince himself.

Beth seems genuinely hurt (I need to write a separate post all about this) and her eyes flicker over to Mick, absorbing Rio’s non-verbal reminder of their relationship being a business one. She then looks at Rio again and we have a shot of him looking away from her again, rocking his jaw and he almost seems angrier than when he was raising his voice, probably because he knows that he slipped again, despite everything he was saying.

When the sneak peek came out before the episode aired and Rio said, “so who’s the boyfriend?”, I was really confused. I was momentarily transported to fanfic land where Beth meets someone new and Rio is jealous haha. Seriously though, the word sounds so foreign coming out of Rio’s mouth, as the words boyfriend/girlfriend have never been thrown around in conversations between these two. It made me think, and probably made a lot of other people think, about how these two compare to a conventional romantic relationship.

The music is also incredibly weighted in this scene. Loving all the piano they’re using!

Moving on to their final scene in the episode, I love that Beth knows that Rio’s going to be his usual pissy self and want an invoive and then the way he scrutinises it. Omg, it was so cute.

Also excuse me sir but did you just compare your relationship with Beth to that of a boyfriend and a girlfriend? Again, the word boyfriend sounds so foreign and new coming out of Rio’s mouth. When Beth replied  by saying, in a very feminine tone might I add, “he got over it”, I just about died. God, these two messes are using another couple’s relationship to address their own relationship. You bloody messes. I’m shaking my head. And the fact that Rio replies “they always do”, I am shaking my head again. Hahaha. Lol. Imagine these two ever being over each other. They really can’t be compared to other romantic relationships because they’re too stupid.

Also, Beth and Rio are dressed so similarly, all black, in their scenes together but particularly in this last scene.

I think that the way they are positioned is, again, so significant and obviously different to their first scene in the episode. In this final scene, Rio is once again positioned above Beth, standing while she is sitting. In the first scene, he sat down next to her, waited for her to speak and listened but he also lost control, even though Mick was there, and seemed to internally berate himself afterwards for it. Now, Mick is still there but Rio is taking extra precautions by avoiding even sitting down and keeping the interaction as short as possible.  

They are also finally facing one another and Beth has regained the power and confidence she didn’t seem to have in the first scene, even thought she isn’t delivering the full amount of money. Like I said, I think she has processed and compartmentalised Lucy’s death and that possibly has something to do with it, as well as the fact that she probably feels powerful knowing that she’s deceiving Rio.

By having Beth and Rio face one another in this scene, while wearing such similar clothing, it really depicts them as two sides of the same coin, as almost but not quite mirror images of each other, as counterparts.

#nbc good girls #beth x rio #gg season 3 #annie marks #ruby hill #stan hill #ruby x stan #dean boland #au jus

[love-can-be-as-cold-as-grave]

Chapter 33: You’re All I Ever Wanted

[December 31, 2020]

Liv looked over her shoulder, mischievously grinning at the sleeping lump hidden beneath the black covers, an intricately tattooed hand sticking out from one corner. She turned back to peek through the glowing slit in the ebony curtains. I’ll never get sick of this view, she thought, watching the light snow falling in delicate flurries upon the already blanketed backyard. Pressed in to the sweeping blanched yard were the small imprints of birds and critters. Tucked to the side were their bicycles, hidden beneath a tarp, awaiting the spring.

Grabbing the corner of the curtains Liv pulled them back, basking the dark room in the alabaster glow of a snowy morning. “Up! Nouse ylös! (Get up!)” Smiling to herself she crossed the room to rummage through their ornate ebony dresser, wondering exactly how cold it was outside. Even after two odd years living in Finland, figuring out the right attire was still a mystery to Liv after LA’s eternal heat. It’s freezing right? Long sleeves right?

Annoyed grumbling came from the bed lump as it shifted positions, turning away from the light to face the opposite end of the room.

Liv slipped off her red checkered pajama pants, pulling out a pair distressed black boyfriend jeans. “Don’t make me go in there and get you!” She laughed, setting the jeans to the side and sifting through shirts. Yup, long sleeve is probably best. A sweater too?

The grumbling grew playfully louder, and with that Liv forgot changing altogether and crept towards the edge of the bed, grabbing the end of the blanket, lifting it up and squirmed her way under. The light shining in from the window illuminated the curled up figure beneath, peeking out from beneath his arm, smile twitching on his lips as she crawled her way up the length of his body, throwing a knee over him and straddling his chest, hands resting on the bed on either side of his face, caging him in.

Ville peaked out again from beneath his forearm, green eyes alive with amusement as he finally pulled his arm away, bringing both his hands to Liv’s forearms and running his fingers up and down them innocently. He stared up at Liv, fighting back a smile, admiring the sparkle in her rested eyes, the sensation of her long black hair brushing his bare skin, the small goosebumps of pleasure appearing on her forearms “Oh you’re up? I’ve been waiting ages darling. Did you forget that we were joining Jesse for breakfast before my meeting?” He grabbed her wrists, tugging them out from under her so that she fell onto his chest and rolled, changing their positions and pinning her down to the bed. “How could you Kultaseni?”

Liv laughed, stretching out her neck to give him a longing and loving kiss on the lips, smirking with amusement as she pulled away to see a hungry smirk on his pale face, setting off the slight wrinkles around his eyes, curly hair in messy tousles. “Oh no sir, no can do. We’ll be late.”

Ville rolled his eyes before lowering his head, running his nose along her jawline then slowly down her neck, “He’s my brother, he’ll understand.”

***

Ville watched with amusement as Jesse inhaled his enormous breakfast, raising a questioning brow as he took a sip of his coffee. They sat in a small cafe and bookshop in the heart of Helsinki. The cafe was filled with the inviting aroma of books and coffee and the low hum of sleepy new years eve patrons. Outside the snow continued to fall it’s familiar dance. The three of them sat in the corner, Liv and Ville next to each other, and Jesse across from them. After making it out of bed Ville had thrown on a white T-shirt, plain black hoodie, black jeans, and black coat, leaving his curls down in a mess.

"Mitä?(What?),” Jesse asked, catching Ville’s stare, “I'm bulking." Jesse mumbled, a forkful of eggs stuffed into his mouth. He had on a light gray sweater, dark blonde hair cropped short.

Liv let her hand rest on Ville's lap, fork half heartedly moving the fruit salad around on her plate. "When is your next match?" Her long black hair was down in its natural waves, falling past her shoulders, reaching down to her waist, the longest it had been for a while. She had on a tight fitting horizontally striped turtleneck tucked in to her black boyfriend jeans, black belt completing the look. Something seemed off with her that morning after they finally managed to leave the bed. Something was troubling her.

Ville took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze before interlacing his ringed fingers with hers, playing with the small shiny engagement ring. He knew exactly what it was. It was the same thing that had been troubling her for a while now. Moments of hopefulness, and then disappointment.

"Next week." Jesse smiled happily, oblivious to the concerned looks Ville was giving Liv from the corner of his eye. He washed down his mouthful with some milk. “I have to make sure I take it easy tonight. Two beers, tops. Okay maybe three, but that’s it or else my coach will kill me.” He took a bite of toast before gesturing with it towards Ville and Liv, “What do you two have planned tonight?”

Liv tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, placing her utensils on her plate having given up on the meal, and leaned back in her chair, taking her cup of tea in to her free hand. “Well this vampire hermit,” she nudge Ville gently with her elbow, “wanted to stay in and watch Night of the Living Dead,” she flashed him a smirk, “but I’ve convinced him to come out to a party at Jussi’s Helsinki apartment.” The smirk didn’t touch her eyes. She’s putting on a niceties for Jesse but her mind is elsewhere.

“Tyypilliesti! (Typical!)” Jesse laughed, just as the familiar sound of Livs ringtone began to hum.

Liv pulled it out, giving it a glance before stuffing it back in her pocket. He knew that expression, it was a business call but she didn't want to be rude by answering. Jesse wouldn't mind, he loved Liv like his own sister; she could do no wrong. "Just answer it sweetheart." He smiled. Two workaholics sit down in a cafe… Ville mused as Liv said her apologies to Jesse, grabbing her long black coat and stepping outside to answer it.

"So," Jesse snuck a look outside at Liv as she paced, talking with animation to, whome Ville could only assume was Siri, given the familiar expression of happy annoyance on her face as she spoke, "Aiotteko te tehdä teistä minusta setän, milloin tahansa? (Are you two going to make me an uncle anytime soon?)" 

Ville took a deep breath, running his hands over his face, a little unsurprised with the inquiry. That was the million dollar question everyone seemed to be asking them since they had gotten married. He was thankful that Jesse at least had some tact and asked when Liv had stepped out. "There's been, um…" he interlaced his fingers beneath his chin, watching as the flurries began to cover Liv's hair with snow, her cheeks turning red from the cold, "There are some complications from the, the crash. We saw a physician in June and were advised to keep trying despite the chances being quite low.” A part of him had begun to feel the weight of guilt. They'd been trying since May, and despite having a doctor confirm Liv's fears they'd of course kept up their efforts, but that hopeful excitement had faded from Ville, leaving him jaded but supportive. He couldn't let himself get his hopes up any longer with each passing month, and he felt guilty for it. He simply did not understand how Liv could continue going through the same vicious cycle, the same eager anticipation and then crushing disappointment. It hurt him to realize that they may no longer be on the same page. Before leaving for breakfast, he had taken note of the extent of Liv’s investment, their washroom counter full of vitamins, a calender tracking her cycle, a small stack of books on conception. Maybe I am quick to lose hope, maybe I am being pessimistic, but I’m hurting twice as much as the time keeps passing, my own pain yes, but hers too. Perhaps we should take a step back, a break from the fixation of it so that we may begin to prepare ourselves for the realization that this may not happen for us...again.

Jesse wiped his mouth with a napkin, looking at his brother with seriousness. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. You could always adopt? Try some of that fertility stuff?”

Ville shrugged, looking away from Jesse and back towards Liv. She caught his eye with a glance and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry’ before turning back around. Ville looked back to Jesse, running a hand through his hair, “She doesn’t want to think about fertility treatments and the like, let alone try them. I’m trying my best to be supportive, and at this point I’m not sure I care as much about conceiving as I did, I’m more worried about her more than anything else.”

Suddenly the soft tinkling of the cafe doorbell rang as Liv hurriedly rushed back to her seat next to Ville, the snow already melting in her hair. “I’m sorry, there was a scheduling mishap and my shoot today got moved up.” She shrugged off her coat, the blush reddening further on her cheeks. “But they can wait cause I want to hear all about this match.”

***

Liv let her fingertips trace the designs on the graffitied wall. I don’t need to check. I don’t need to check.

“I forgot to ask! How was your christmas? Did your dad and grandfather enjoy Helsinki? What presents did you and Ville exchange?” Siri grinned as she zipped up the last of the carrying cases for their camera equipment, picking it up and adding it to a pile with the rest. She’d dyed her pixie hair a bright red and had on the oddest set of oversized striped overalls atop a green turtleneck.

Liv took a seat on the worn cushioned bench, crossing her legs at the ankles. They’d had a brief promotional shoot at Tavastia for an upcoming show. The entire place was a wealth of memories. She could almost imagine the guys, grinning and snarling back at her as she shot photographs for them there and the very same room.

How was my Christmas?, “It was really nice.” She smiled softly to herself as she remembered the satanic ornaments Ville had gotten for their tree. Her favorite has been the one he’d made himself though. He’d painted a white door on a clear ornament. On the door was a little 666 in red script, marking it as the lair of the beast. He’d filled the ornament with little squares of paper with scribbled lines, representing the pages and pages of lyrics she had, and still takes up in his notebooks. “Ville was a really good sport with everything, and everyone, even though this isn't his favorite time of year. Dad and gramps hated the cold, but I figured as much. They did love Ville’s moms cooking, but gramps liked the liquor cabinet more. My dad didn’t touch a single drop though. Joan has him on a health kick getting ready for his wedding. Gifts? I bought Ville a really beautiful guitar I found at auction that was once owned by Elvis. He was head over heels. I’m surprised it didn’t take my place in our bed. And Ville is going to take me to Budapest to visit the other half of my family in February, just before he’s back on tour with The Agents. Overall, good family time, good food, and fantastic husband who kept me from getting too stressed out hosting everyone.” Complete understatement, Liv thought. Ville had been some sort of super human, running around getting groceries, keeping her family entertained, helping her clean, calming her down, and most importantly, fronting the inevitable question. The question…

She got up, grabbing the equipment carriers and tossing a few straps over her shoulders, Siri following her lead. Overloaded with equipment they wound around the back corridors of the venue until they came to the back door that led out to the parking lot. Turning the handle with her elbows Liv held the door for Siri, the light flurries unrelenting on the cold December day.

Siri ducked past Liv as she held the door “Sounds about the same as mine, except no out of town relatives and a wonderful fiance, almost husband.” Trying not to tip over with the equipment under one arm she unlocked the trunk of her new pink Smart Car and began loading the gear into the trunk.

“How is Kosmo?” Liv smiled, remembering the frantic call she’d gotten from Kosmo a few months prior, asking for help choosing the right ring.

Siri laughed, grabbing the camera straps hanging off of Liv’s arms and tucking the cameras neatly in the trunk before shutting it and leaning back against the car. “He’s great. Keeps going on about wedding plans. I wouldn't mind an elopement! Oh and kids, he’s talking about kids! That man…” She chuckled as she shook her head.

Liv’s chest tightened at the word, teeth biting down on her lower lip. Kids… Even the mention of them was enough to set her off. The feeling of not being able to conceive was indescribable. It felt like a weight, crushing down upon her, this total feeling of being a failure, and having it tied so closely to the traumas of her past only resulted in her having to face them all over again. She’d been trying to cope as best she could, but each passing month brought its heartbreak. Throughout the ordeal so far she had learned the never ending nature of Ville’s supportive devotion to her. He came to every doctor's appointment, held her hand through it all, read books, bought vitamins and foods, he did it all, but she knew. She knew it was for her and her alone. 

I don’t need to check.

There is a pharmacy just around the corner, I could just quickly stop in and buy a test. I have felt different lately. And my period is late. But then again, it was late the past four negatives too. No I won’t get a test. I shouldn't.

“Ville!” Siri grinned with her child-like smile as she spotted Ville walking across the parking lot in their direction, bundled up in his coat, a scarf, beanie, and backpack thrown over one shoulder. He gave her a wave of greeting.

Liv turned, watching with curiosity as he approached, her lips freed from her teeth as she smiled, “Well this is a nice surprise.”

He shrugged, wrapping one arm around the small of her back and giving her a kiss on the cheek, “I thought I could come escort you home since I finished my meeting early.”

Siri pulled open the driver side door, rolling her eyes with a smirk, “You two are disgustingly cute.” Siri laughed, hoping in to the car, “I’ll see you next week Liv, have a happy new year!”

They watched Siri carefully maneuver through the snowy lot and on to the road. The skies above a light grey, with nights blanket of ebony slowly arrive.

“So,” Liv said, turning to Ville, fingers playing with the strings on his hoodie, “What really brings you by?” He was easy to read when he had ulterior motives, his smile was always a little crooked when he was up to something, she’d spotted it immediately.

“Such a sleuth,” he joked, unzipping his backpack and pulled out a new pair of beautiful black gloves trimmed in faux leather. Liv took them, gingerly pulling them on with a brilliant grin. She’d been needing a new pair of gloves, and they fit perfectly. “I thought my dear,” he took her hand, wrapping it around his arm and guided her out of the parking lot, “that we could walk home along the pier.”

Both of their black docs shuffling in the piling snow they began to walk arm in arm. “Thank you, truly. These gloves are beautiful. But you do know it’s like an hour long walk right? But if you need that much time to spill the beans then sure darling, I don’t mind.” The streets around them were surprisingly busy. The snow was not one to slow a Fin, and with it being New Years eve, last minute preparations were being made by everyone as they rushed to and fro.

“Spill the beans, funny turn of phrase, I wonder where it…” Liv gave him a mock look of exasperation as they crossed the street and on to the pier, their breaths blowing out in pearlescent puffs. Ships tarped and bunkered down for the winter bobbed gently as the ocean gave it's push and wall against the port. “Alright I shall get to the point.” He stopped walking. “You seemed troubled this morning, and I suspect why. I know it’s been difficult for you, and I’m trying my absolute best to be the doting and supportive husband but I’m afraid I can’t do what you do. I can’t keep getting my hopes up every time. I am becoming worn out, and I don’t want that. I don’t want that at all. I want to be happy and eager, but seeing you crushed every month is taking its toll on me because I,” his eyes glistened with tears, “I can’t give you the one thing you want.” He took her hands in his, the sea breeze tugging at the loose strands of his curls sticking out from under the beanie. "Darling I think, and please listen to me, I think we should take a break from trying.”

She’d been staring at him with shock, trying to digest his words as he spoke with his heart, but that final sentence had broken hers. Her gloved hands slipped from his, and before she could censor herself, she spoke harshly, “You don’t want a child?

He shook his head, trying to take her hand again but she pulled back, "No that's not what I'm saying at all, and you know that. I'm both worried about you, about the stress, and honestly, I’m worried about myself too. You are paramount in my concerns, but I also am trying not to end up in such a place where I think of our efforts as a burden. Please, just think about what I’m saying and consider it will you?"

Liv looked away from his face, out at the cloud covered sea. She hadn’t realized the extent of is own pain in all this, nor the ramifications it could have. Am I selfish? Have I only been thinking about myself? I want us to be on the same page, I don’t want this whole thing to be like it’s become, clouded by what we learned at the doctor, what I feared. We should be, and stay happy and hopeful. It hasn’t even been a full year of trying, how have I let myself get to this, this point? He’s right isn’t he. Maybe we do need to take a breather from this. She took his hand in hers and nodded lightly.

***

He wasn’t sure exactly what reaction he’d get from her, but he hadn’t imagined the quiet, digestive, withdrawal. He took a sip of beer, smiling down at the christmas card they had received from Marcus. It was a sweet family photograph with Hanna and his two daughters, the whole family adorned in heartagram T-shirts and wild hair in a parody of terrible 80’s-style family portraits. He set the card back down on the mantelpiece and looked longingly at the stairs. After returning home she’d hurried off to their bedroom to get ready for the party, or at least that had been her excuse. He’d learned long ago to let her have her space, that she would talk to him when she was ready, something she’d been working really hard to do after their love story had picked back up again. 

Unsure what to do with himself while he waited for her to finish getting ready he meandered over to the small studio and took a seat at their piano, setting his drink done on the floor. The sky had darkened quite quickly after they’d returned, and the temperature dropped further, the snow still falling in gentle whisps. He played a note, and then another absentmindedly, enjoying the sensation of the smooth ivory as he gazed upon the collection of posters, prints, and photographs around the room. 

Situated lovingly across from the piano was a large print of one of their wedding photographs. It was his favorite one. Their wedding had been held in the fall in Oulun Hautausmaa, one of Finland's oldest cemeteries. It had been a bright sunny day, the trees casting shadows, the small group of twenty odd guests braving the cool breeze. Siri, who had passionately offered her services to take photographs during the day had captured the moment Ville had lifted up and pulled back the vintage lace veil Liv had worn. She was laughing with loving amusement, black hair in beautiful curls trailing down the bare back of her lace, sleeved, mermaid style dress, a small bouquet of wildflowers clutched in one hand. In front of her Ville held his mouth, overcome with emotion at the sight of Liv, his other hand clutching his chest. Seeing her coming down the aisle like some ethereal ghost had stunned him speechless, he’d never felt so incredibly overwhelmed before, and then to pull back the veil and see her blushing face, staring back at him with pure happy joy.

“You know, you still look at me like that.” Liv stepped in to the doorway, her mood lightened. She had changed into a simple, long sleeved, mid-thigh, fitted maroon dress, black hair styled in waves, and her lips rouged a dark red.

Ville grinned, unable to help himself as he scooted over on the stool, inviting her to join him. "And I always will. Come, play with me, we've got," he took a quick glance at his wristwatch, "fifteen minutes before our cab arrives."

A soft smile spread across her red lips as she crossed the room, sliding in to the space to the left of him, resting her head on his shoulder, fingers hovering over the keys.

He wished he had the ability to make her feel better, to do more than he could, but couldn't. Tragedy clings to you like a parasite doesn't it traagisesti kaunis rakkauteni. He waited for her to pick a song as he peppered the top of her head with kisses until suddenly she sat up and brought her fingers down on the keys.

[ https://youtu.be/ppWz9O78DgI ]

The note was deep and sombre. Ville stared, confused, unsure which song it was as she played the same keys in fast succession, before reaching her right hand across him, fingers sliding over the ivory. He recognized the notes instantly, smirking at her as she waited for him to identify the song. He took over from her hand, and together with firm hands they dug in to the keys, playing Liv’s favorite song. The sounds were harsh, and pounding with rough passion on Liv’s end as she put the weight of her body in to every note with closed eyes. Soon the song began to slow, and Ville took control of the melody, bringing in gentler, softer notes.They played together, riffing with each other, each knowing the notes by heart, souls pouring in to the piece. 

This song would always have a special place in his heart, not only because he knew it was Liv’s favorite but because that night, the night Liv had let her heart lead, and not run from it, was the night he’d understood, truly, what love was. To love and be loved was not simply burning passions, nor heart wrenching adoration and infatuation, love is compromise, love is wanting to be the best version of yourself for that person, love is give and take, love is learning, learning together, and growing together. Now, he got to wake up every morning next to her, next to pure euphoric happiness, next to the person who challenged him, inspired him, made him feel humble yet invincible, the person who picked him up, who understood him like no one had before or ever would. And to think, they’d both almost lost each other. 

Maybe I was wrong, he thought, the notes bleeding in to him, maybe we need to keep trying, do whatever it takes, persevere.

***

He handed the acoustic guitar back to Jussi, "How do you always rope me into playing when I come over?" 

Mige rolled his eyes, "Oh please, you adore the attention." He swung back the rest of his beer before roughly placing the bottle down on the counter and scratched his beard.

"Maybe," Ville winked, wiping the sweat off of his brow with his forearm, the sleeves of his dress short rolled up, the top buttons undone.

"Hey where did zombie fucker go?" Mige asked, slumping down on a loveseat, grabbing a shinny 2021 hat and plopping it on his head.

Ville looked around quickly, unable to spot her in the room, "I'm not sure. And stop calling her that! She only accepts zombie lover, or Liv Valo." He gave Mige a playful punch on the thigh before leaving it side.

The party had been well under way when they'd arrived. The two story apartment was crammed with people, many of the guests were Finnish artists and other people in the music industry. After a winter of reclusive rehearsals and time off basking in the warmth of home, it had been a bit jarring for Ville to be thrown into the viper pit of socializing, but finding Mige there had been a welcome surprise. Liv had stayed by his side mostly, reminiscing with Mige, sharing gig horror stories with Jannah, a photography friend of hers, jumping on the piano at some point to play some Mozart, comparing tattoos with Jyrkie, but Ville couldn't help but notice that she seemed a bit off. Her energy had been less than half what it would normally be in these situations. Typically the social butterfly, she still was, but more mellow, not really present. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she still had that look of sad contemplation in her eyes, despite the smiles on her lips. He wondered if she was still upset with him. Something was the matter. 

She'd disappeared somewhere between Living on a Prayer, and Jailhouse Rock which were four or so songs ago, and so turning down another beer from Mige, Ville went looking for Liv. He pushed his way through the crowds of intoxicated and cheerful people, moving from the dining room to the kitchen, checking even the patio despite knowing Liv had quit smoking earlier in the year. He sighed, going back in to do another scan before noticing a line of women waiting outside of the hallway washroom. Giving them a shy smile he knocked on the door, “Liv? Are you in there?”

Amidst the blaring rock music coming from one of the rooms he could hear the door unlock, and, giving the women an apologetic look, he stepped in to the washroom, closing the door behind him. Liv sat on the edge of the small tub, elbows resting on her knees, her face clammy and pale. She gave him a weak smile.

“Darling is something the matter?” He crouched down to her eye level, brushing a loose strand of her hair out of her eyes. “Are you still upset?” She's either sick, or she’s been crying in here, he thought, unsure which it was, but wanting to make sure she was alright either way.

She shook her head, “No no, I just, I’m not feeling well. Ville this is different.” She took his hand in hers, casting her eyes down at the large silver rings on his fingers as she fiddled with them, words on the tip of her tongue ready to come out. “I was sick when we got back home. And I got sick again. I’ve uh, I’ve been throwing up…” She looked back up at him, trying to gage his reaction.

Throwing up? Throwing up. “Oh.” He managed to say. Could she? Without another thought he stood, extending his hand out towards her, “Let’s go and get a test right this minute.” Despite his sentiments earlier in the day he wanted to know. He needed to know. Being rational couldn't just erase the natural reaction to what Liv was telling him. He knew the possibility of disappointment was there, as it had been in the past, but he knew Liv, he knew if said this felt different, then it was.

Liv chuckled, a little taken aback by his reaction. "But today, you said…" She took his hand and carefully got to her feet, “And we’d miss the countdown.” 

Ville unlocked the door, keeping her hand in his and leading her through the crowds gently, “Bullocks with the count down.”

***

Ville tapped his foot anxiously, heart feeling as if it would pound right out of his chest as he waited outside of the gas station washroom attached to the outside of the building. His stomach was doing somersaults. Alright, if it is a negative than perhaps we should see the doctor again, inquire regarding other options. I should take Liv home, maybe draw her a bath. Would her favorite bakery be open? No of course not… But what if it isn’t a negative? What if this is it? Really it.

Around him the flurries had finally stopped, street lights twinkling on the soft powdery snow.

The door slowly creaked open and Liv stepped out, her face blank, body bundled in a thick crimson coat, barrette atop her head, and worn doc martens. His poker face suddenly faltered to reveal a dazzlingly bright smile.

“Rambo!” Ville blurted out with a raspy laughed, grabbing Liv around the waist and spinning her as around them the sounds of the new year echoed in a chorus along the street with cheers and clankings pots and pans. Midnight had chimed.

“I’m sorry what?” Liv giggled, putting the capped test in her pocket and lacing her fingers in to Ville’s hair as he continued to hold her up in his arms, twirling her around the snow packed lot of the station.

“No, Hoff! No no, Ozzy!” Ville beamed as the two lovers basked in the glow of the stations outside lights, breaths billowing with white in the air, their happy giggles rising up in the raucous night.

Liv wrapped her arms around his neck, her happiness overwhelming, she knew, she knew it had felt different. “What on earth are you talking about?” She couldn’t stop chuckling as they spun and spun. She felt absolutely euphoric. A baby, she squealed internally, we’re going to have a baby! After everything. After that night of tears and pain, after heartbreak, after distance and passionate rekindling, after happy contentment, a child.

Ville felt lightheaded as he finally set her down, holding her chilled cheeks in between his hands, “Baby names my dear.” He was freezing. His boots were getting wet. But it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered anymore but her and the marvel of a little bean growing inside of her. He brought his lips to hers, eyes glistening with happy tears as he wrapped her in his warm embrace.

Liv kissed him back passionately, tears of happiness also streaming down her face, before catching her breath and resting her cheek on his chest. “Poe?” She asked, peeking up at him with a grin.

“Poe huh? Yeah, I like that.” Ville smirked, kissing the top of her head and hailing a cab that he spotted passing by. He tossed his arm around her shoulder lovingly, looking into her beautiful hazel eyes as they trudged through the soft snow, another wonderful year behind them, an even better one ahead. “Darling?” He asked, barely able to contain his chuckles.

Liv looked up at him with utter contentment as they just about reached the cab, the wind picking up and stirring her hair, “Hmm?”

“I suppose,” he winked down at her as he nudged her jokingly, “we’ll never enjoy the silence now.”

#ville valo #him #h.i.m. #his infernal majesty #fan fic

[medea10]

Medea’s Top 10 Worst Fathers in Anime

#clannad #pokemon #Dragon Ball Z #rin-ne #kyoukai no rinne #assassination classroom #berserk #neon genesis evangelion #food wars #shokugeki no soma #ranma 1/2 #pupa #Full Metal Alchemist #Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood #michiko and hatchin #Mirai nikki #the future diary #boruto #fairy tail #Steins;Gate

[arthurmorganthings]

I hope that you’re having a good day❤️ Can you write about Hosea pining over an intelligent and clever con artist young woman? If you’re not comfortable with writing for him, can you write for Dutch or anyone you’d like? Stay AMAZING!!!!!

Woman in black

Pairing: Hosea Matthews x Mystery!woman

Warning: slight suggestive themes (if you squint anyways), and cursing.

Summary: Hosea Matthews meets his match.

A/N: I might do an Easter egg/crossover with a fic I wrote for Mr. Morgan fouuuuund here :) enjoy!

I guess it’s true what people say, that only time can heal pain, least that’s what Hosea Matthews wishes to believe. His dear Bessie gone for quite some time that he begins to question his grieving. Why pain doesn’t associate with her death any more.

Perhaps growing older was an attribute none the wiser because he stood lost in thought for a brief moment. Forget Dutch conducting his fictitious plan that involves robbing rich folk under their noses, which is a probable reason for Dutch accepting an impromptu Angelo Bronte’s invite to the Mayor’s soirée.

One thing Hosea knew was that Dutch is never one for associating with the rich. He stole from them religiously—as if it played a role in some sort of reparation for his flaws in life. His philosophy passionately ensues that if they can mosey their way through life’s problems money can buy, they can afford to get pick-pocketed out of a couple hundred.

Once entering the ball, the gang is explicitly told to leave their trigger happy toys at the front of the door. Though Arthur felt skeptical about the situation he follows-suit, removing his holster and places it alongside the others.

“I feel all out of place.” Bill mumbles as he practically marveled at the backyard filled to the brim with aristocrats, younger women with older men, gunslingers that so happen to make it out alongside their riches. Arthur nods, staring aimlessly at his environment.

“Alright gentlemen, like we practiced. Arthur and I will go network with Bronte—only I’ll be doing all of the talking; no offense son.” Dutch explains. “Meanwhile, Bill figure out what you can find, Hosea—“

“Hello gentlemen.” A voice with a higher pitch than Dutch was comfortable in retorts. Her dress beautifully made with her copper skin tone to compliment her accessories. Telling by the crown situated on her head, she was a princess of elite status.

Dutch furrows his eyebrows while giving her a puzzled look. His politeness never missed a step as he greets her. “Hello ma’dam.”

Realization dawns onto Hosea in recognition of the pictures plastered all over Saint Denis newspaper article. How could he have let information like this go over his head? He noted that her glance never left Arthur’s, and vice versa.

“Dutch, you fool! Don’t you know who that is?” He inquires. “That’s the princess of Monaco!”

This piques Dutch’s interest in one of many ways: a woman he could potentially rob, or a woman he’d lay with. And despite all of this, she showed no interest in laying with him—the princess appeared too young anyways. Hosea drawled, indifferent between the exchange that occurred between her, and Arthur. Betwixed them was an underlying amount of sexual tension. How her eyes bat, subtle smiles—suggestive speech.

Dutch notices this, his smirk widens.

He introduces the duo before politely sending her away to adhere to their purpose of attending an event of high society.

“But of course.” She nods, giving Arthur a look any man can associate with want, her walk eloquently leaves its mark with the gang. Dutch eyeing Margaret’s hips, swaying effortlessly.

“Christ.” Dutch mumbles. “What a woman.”

He pivots on his loafers. “Arthur my son, you’re either a fool, or an idiot. Which one is it boy?”

Arthur grunts, scratching at his nearly shaven beard. “Oh, I’m sorry Dutch. I thought we were here to con folk out of their money, and not flirt with women half our age.”

Dutch chortles. “Oh, it’s not me who she wants son, that was all you.”

“A princess wouldn’t have me.”

“She seemed sweet on you. Well—do with that information as you please, now gentlemen, back to the plan please.” Hosea insists, rather uncomfortable at the blunder that would soon escalate into whome asserts their masculinity.

By default Dutch wins, his autonomy was that he lead the gang, so that makes him a macho man in comparison to Arthur who was a bird—prepared to take flight.

Hosea digresses. “I’ll go network with a few folk worth robbing.”

“Alright then, come on son.” Dutch motions to Arthur as they head to the upper level of the mansion to speak with Bronte. Hosea gives Bill a reassuring pat on the back before making himself scarce.

He greets folk with vigor, associating himself through a pseudonym as he pours the finest merlot complementary glasses provided by the butlers in the finest suits. He observes as he catches himself in conversation with a few businessmen from Chicago. Hiding in plain sight as Dutch would put it while nursing the rest of his wine down his throat. The sweet taste left him satiated off of beverages for the rest of the night, he does note a woman in black lace and matching hat to finish—the woman looked dressed to go to a funeral for Christ sake.

She grabs a hold of a man from the nape of his neck, lips trailing across his cheek as her fingers go dangerously low to the belt buckle of his pants. If Hosea hasn’t known any better, he’d mistaken her for some goth working girl of the sort, but what she does earns a quirked brow.

Instead of cupping him through his pants, she gravitates to his pockets, robbing the poor man in plain sight. None the wiser, he doesn’t notice anything—a con woman sort. Hosea was colored impressed. She excuses herself shuffling past folk in a hurry.

She walks closer to his direction and he swears his heart skips. Taking in her smooth skin, and primmed makeup. Telling by her lack of aged features, it goes without saying she was young. As she walks past Hosea grabs her arm gently to avoid provoking something that could easily be unavoidable through the art of conversation.

So he pulls his mask over his face, the facade commences. “Good evening ma’am, I don’t believe we properly introduced ourselves.”

Her eyebrows knit together, perplexed as she drinks in her surroundings. She refuses to believe a man of his conjecture would ever afford to be around rich folk. She “plays” along.

“No sir, I don’t believe we have.” She snorts, placing a hand on her hip. “Though I must apologize. I’m kind of in a hu-“

“Ah nonsense, I’m sure you can stay for a drink. Maybe a hand of cards, perhaps. Unless you have a husband waiting for you.” Hosea suggests, a bit too in character though he must say that he’s enjoying himself. She stares with a glint of annoyance before masking the half of her face with a lace fan—a pricey fan with the help of her pick-pocketing skills.

She obliges him with a simple nod. “I’m not the card playing sort. I will—however, take you up on that drink. C’mon.” She looks around anxiously as she follows Hosea to the bar near the gazebo of the mayor’s humble abode. Pouring two glasses of Champagne brewed from the finest brews in Paris—this was almost enough to put moonshine to shame. Almost.

The silence between them was rather awkward. The woman in black opt to keep her comments to herself as she nursed her glass with her head held high. Hosea would be the the one to begin conversation.

“So what’s a lady like you doing in Saint Denis?” Perhaps not his proudest words of choice because she paused for a beat before chuckling into a fit of laughter. Hosea was never one for making a fool of himself, often times than most he’d rarely be placed in a position to be made a fool of; so this was one tough pill he’d have to swallow alongside his pride.

Once she’d calmed down she places the empty glass of Chardonnay onto the nicely decorated table before closing in all space that separates them.

Though she was a feet and a mere few inches shorter, her aura exudes fearlessness. A young spark if he’d say himself.

“I’m sure you’re familiarized with Leviticus Cornwall.” She acknowledges to her understanding Hosea was definitely that of a crook, she allows him to keep his identity hidden.

Little does she know a whole gang of bandits plan to rob the Leviticus Cornwall thrice more.

“Sure.”

“A no good bastard is what he is. Killed more folk in the state of Annesburg than I can count. One greedy sonuvabitch.” The creases in her eyes shift to an expression of anger. “I know you value your discression, but you ain’t no rich man.” He felt the cold metal graze his rib-cage.

He couldn’t bring himself to panic if Hosea was paid in gold the amounts of times he’d faced death. The stranger’s revolver hidden in plain sight as party-goers drink to their heart’s content. Unbeknownst to them of the potential dangers they’d be put in. She faced him in close proximity that one could easily mistaken for two people—sweet on each other.

Now if she was an idiot, she’d fire with no hesitation. It’d be futile to try and escape as the house was flooded with Pinkertons—not to mention heavily guarded by lawmen as Princess Margret resides within the mansion temporarily.

“Don’t be foolish ma’am.” His voice both patronizing, and fearful. “You intend to kill me in a house full of law? You’ll swing before you even know what hits you.”

The sharp click of the safety being removed invoked panic in Hosea, like a game of chess, if he fails to place himself in a proper position—he’d be the pawn. Additionally, his palms grew damp as he places his glass down slowly, almost to emphasize his alliance. The woman in black smirks as she tips her hat downward.

“It seems to me you’ve underestimated the power of a woman.”

A beautiful one at that, on the cusp of womanhood with her soft skin and eloquent features. Perhaps being robbed unbeknownstly wouldn’t be too bad of an experience for him. He couldn’t help but smile as he raises his hands up slightly in defeat. “Fine. Since you refuse to enable your trust—there’s a Patek Philippe watch in my front pocket, take it, and be on your way.”

She scoffs. “You mean to tell me a man of your stature, carries a Patek watch for fun? Pathetic. And you call yourself a crook mister?”

As she goes to reach for the valueble item, there’s a brief interval in which she removes her revolver from his hip, he grabs it quickly before placing it in his possession.

He looks around to see if there were any witnesses that caught onto the game of Russian roulette between them, when he sensed there was none he puts the safety back before pivoting away with his leg.

The woman in black marveled, following behind his footsteps. “Sir give it b-“

“Seems to me you’ve underestimated me, little girl.” His body coming to a halt, staring at the woman in reckless abandon. She suddenly felt smaller from the lack of weaponry. Her pearls dangle from her lobes as she blinks.

“You bandits are all the same.”

“And what does that make you?”

“Oh that’s rich coming from a man that runs with a tail between his legs.”

Hosea frowns at the vagrant insult, his nose crinkles, eyebrows furrowed, and his hands in fists. “What-“

“You—your gang of degenerates. Took what was mine years ago.” She adjusts her hat, space never seemed to matter to her anyways as she plants a kiss on his right cheek. His eyes widened at the exchange but couldn’t move away, staring aimlessly at the woman. “And I will retrieve it very soon.”

Before he could even inquire about her subliminal message, she’d shuffled away quickly as several lawmen search the area in regards to a female “pick-pocket.”

Hosea stood dazed, and confused.

—-

Dutch was the celebrating sort, no matter the location. He brings the party back to the congested stagecoach alongside, Arthur, Hosea, and Bill—Lenny was their chauffeur for the night.

“Cheers to Arthur for gettin’ those bonds. And uh,” he smirks. “Other things we mustn’t say.” Dutch takes his shot as Arthur blushes.

“Dutch, we ain’t do nothin’ for the last time!”

“Yeah, and my Aunt Sally was the president, bullshit Arthur.” Bill adds on with a shot of whiskey in hand.

“Listen you fat slob of shit!” Arthur threatens before Hosea intervenes.

“Will you two knock it off?” He asks as the duo settle down into silent mumbles as Dutch ask him about his night.

“It was, interesting. Met a young woman, she almost robbed me.”

Dutch raises an eyebrow. “Oh.”

“Seems to me you’re losing your touch Hosea.”

Hosea chuckles looking at the night sky hoping they’d give him clarity as to when his next encounter with the mystery woman in black would be. He returns a neutral glance at Dutch.

“I think so too.” He agrees, amusingly.

-

IM SORRY FOR THE LONG UPDATES, THIS WAS MY SECOND TIME WRITING FOR HOSEA?? WONT BE MY LAST I JUST NEED TO GET A BETTER FEEL OUT FOR HIS CHARACTER AND ONCE I DO ILL PROLLY WRITE FOR HIM SOME MORE 😂💗💗 ENJOY THIS LIL CROSSOVER FIC IT WAS FUN

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #dutch van der linde #saint denis #bill williamson #hosea matthews x reader #hosea matthews

[bellacrownedriver]

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I guess that means I can apply for being the heavy weight champion. You’d be surprised what people think when they don’t know you but they don’t ask why you are the way you are. If your willing to read I’ll tell you but first you need to make sure your ready to see me for me. Some things may open your eyes about me but atleast I am strong enough to tell my story. I was born and raised in Raleigh NC on January 26 1994, yeah I know I’m young. I am the most potent Aquarius alive, may even think I am the person the astrologers examinate for the sign. My heart was created by Victoria and my body was produced by Willie. I am the youngest girl out of four and I have a little big bruder named icsame, whome I love too much. I’m random AF so technology is my strong point but communication is my soft spot. You jot all that down? Cause I’m not repeating myself. Any who, my name is Taja Keyara Gaskins and my social is 24… oh damn this isn’t a interview I don’t need to tell yall that. Okay had to get the goofy out my system because what I’m about to write may scare you away or pull you near. It’s not a fun roller coaster when the people you love hurt you, the scars never heal, and your the only one on the ride. Maybe if your on it with me you’ll see the good things that came from it. I grew up with my siblings, my mom was always working making something out of nothing by doing hair. My dad was always somewhere DJ’ing getting drunk, doing drugs, just not being there. I was not thinking so much about my purpose in life instead I just bombarded myself with imagination watching cartoons and movies to get away from reality. Every once in a very blue moon me my sister Asha and brother icsame would get the opportunity to be a pretend family as if everything is okay by simple events like going to the zoo. As far as being raised I watched and learned, my two older sisters brittany and breniecia were different but very intriguing. One was a girlly girl everything pink and the other was a drama queen and still is to this day. A couple years went by I started elementary school and got the privilege to walk to and from school with my sister Asha. It wasn’t far and it wasn’t close but it was the beginning of freedom I guess. The street we lived on was brighton road and the school was Powell elementary. We met kids in the neighborhood and would spend weekends and afternoons riding bikes going over eachothers houses and just having fun I guess. Then one day I went a little out of my way riding my bike to a friends house with homework. Along the way a stranger approached me and attempted conversation. He was like 17 but when I asked him his age he said 12 I didn’t believe him and he kept following me asking questions. Stupid ones to make me laugh, then do you want some Ice cream. He then said I will buy you some you just have to come with me. We were right around the corner from food lion and because I didn’t know any better I said okay. We started walking and he said he knew a short cut. I said never mind I don’t want any ice cream I am going home he pulled me off my bike took me into the woods and raped me. I walked my bike home and told my dad a guy touched me and he took me to look for him. When my mom got home she held me while all I could do was cry. We didn’t go to the hospital or anything because I didn’t say rape I said touched. My lesson was learned early I gave up on the imagination I stopped watching movies the same way. My life was reality and I stopped being a kid. I Won’t disclose my age unless you ask me because that alone may cause you to feel my pain and that is something I would never ask you to do. Later on in life I started attending Wilburn elementary school and we moved to 3815 Memory lane. A house on the cusp of a trailer park, with my younger brother, older sister, mom and dad. My two older sisters went to eloe high school and moved in with my grandmother right before we moved. My sister Asha and I shared a room never got along because I always acted older than her and

because she is 2 years older she hated me for it. In school I gained some friends that changed my life, we had drama for real lol. When I say he say she say, boy we were a mess. At the end of the day we would see our flaws through eachothers eyes and fix them. I guess we learned how to take the truth in even if it hurt and that’s a lesson many still have issues trying to accomplish. I love them for that, even if I was hurt it made me stronger. I had one best friend who felt pain like I felt pain and Loved like I loved, coincidentally her mom got her hair done by my mom so we grew closer and closer. The Irony came when I started dealing with a drastic change. One day my Mom told me my brother and sister to come in the shop and get our hair done it was about 7:00P.M after school and we were supposed to go to church later on the same day around eight. Well 8 past by and it came to around 9, we were listening to Yolanda Adams and my mom put it on repeat every time it would be at the high part she would start speaking some kind of toungues so I got scared. At around 10 o clock I asked her if we were still going to church (we were still in the shop) she said yeah. My mom kept acting strange and my older sister Breniecia Told her to come in the house along with us and she was going to call the police but first call my dad I spoke to my dad and he told me to stay calm and after talking to me he talked to my mom they were yelling and fussing and my mom told me my brother and sister to get in the car. I went to protect my brother and sister (I was about 9yrs old) she started driving and my sister started to cry because she was passing red lights and acting crazy I told Asha that it was going to be ok and I was right here she was holding my hand and crying. My brother was scared but he really didn’t understand what was going on. We rolled up to the church and I remember my mom said “nobody’s here am I going crazy” and I said “yes mom I been trying to tell you the whole time” couple seconds later my aunt and grandmother pulled up. My grandmother took my mom some where and my aunt Nikki took me and my sibling’s home. Next day they had a family meeting without me and my sister and brother in the room I guess they were talking about what was wrong with her turned out My mom has Bipolar and they had put her in Dorthea Dix the mental hospital she stayed there for about a month. I went to school crying all the time and my best friend was the only one who really new about what was going on in my family. It went from taking me out of school, she tried to buy a car with no money 3 times, I really can’t write about it because ill break my computer crying ask me personally if you want to know about it . I will tell you this though every time my mom had a Episode I was the one to call her or Tell the police ever since I was 9 I been really taking care of my mom my dad never did shit for her. If he did then why every time she has an episode she wants to divorce him??? She has explained to me that they have a weird type of love but I don’t see it. Ever sence this one episode where she said he fucked up her life. I never liked him because my moms a great woman and he never noticed it, my mom is wonderful in my eyes and I love her and will do anything to help her. About 6th grade all hell broke loose when it came to me I was in fights galore I fought a 8th grader, 2 boys and made a teacher cry just because I felt like it shouldn’t of been the only person on the world feeling the way I felt. My grades were terrible All F’s but I went to the next grade. The school put me on probation and I had to receive therapy and anger management. At Durant Road middle school I really started to create my personality because there was only one click and it was all the track 4 girls. I remember everyone, some are still with me and some are gone. Back then I used to hang at the skate ranch a lot I did some things that weren’t meant to be done I was letting boys take advantage of me when I was around that age because I used to think that if I said no I was going

to get forced so I just did thing without thinking about the outcome I really regret a lot of things but I learned from them so I really am glad they happened to a point were I learned from things instead of repeating the same mistake. Out of everything that made me a lot of the reason I am who I am is because I watched everyone else and learned from there mistakes and issues. We moved to my grandmother’s house at one point there was 13 people living here but eventually we were down to 2, me and my grandmother. She is Verbally Abusive & most of her criticism is negative but always remember all negatives can equal to a positive she say something bad just fix it and if its mean like if she calls you fat just try to impress her and prove her wrong. Not to far from a Year before we moved in with my grandmother my dad had a stroke and got on disability it wasn’t a little but it wasn’t a lot. So since he stayed at the house 24/7 not really doing nothing but sleeping my grandmother tried to evict him and which she did now he lives with my grandfather walking distance from southeast and i lived there with 8 other people and its hell theres just nowear to go. I could go on but I am going to put it in a book ....hope you learned something about me from a little bit of my roller coaster life..

#MYStory #ME #Light #Darkness #Love #Hearts #Minds #Astrology #QueenOfHearts #SnowBlack #Fantasia #SleepingBeauty #Ancestors #Angels #Souls #Hueman #Passion #Purpose #TrueStory #Goofy #GateKeeperNow #Aquarius #cancerMoon #theology #GLOwUP

[justanotherwannabeclassic]

Fighting This War

“If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it.” Lieutenant Duckling AU

Author’s Note: Merry Christmas, everyone, especially to @seastarved , to whome this fic is dedicated. Surprise! I am your Hub Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy this Enchanted Forest AU. I’m so glad we share a mutual love of Enchanted Forest AUs. Special thanks to @sambethe , who helped me with this fic many moons ago.  Can also be read on AO3. 

Fighting This War

Snow gently falls outside as skirts twirl inside, ladies being spun around the ballroom by their suitors, laughing and loving and forgetting the potential disasters that await them on the other side of the castle’s walls. At least, all appear to forget except one, Princess Emma of Misthaven. 

She hates the balls, hates what they symbolize when a war is being waged outside of these walls. It seems so superfluous to her, if not downright insulting to those fighting and dying to be hosting one fete after another. Her father tells her that these balls are the best way to honor the men who risk their lives in honor of the crown. Her mother says they are to distract their people from the fear of war, give them something to celebrate, a momentary reprieve.

Emma simply finds it to be a waste. 

Men are dying for this kingdom, and here they are, drinking, dining, and dancing within the safe confines of the castle. It’s all so very hypocritical. She knows the cause of the war is just – the opposing kingdom will stop at nothing to see her family’s lands razed to the ground, still so very offended for trespasses of which Emma is no longer sure. So war must be fought, and lives must be lost. The cost, otherwise, would be much too great.

(“What are a few dead soldiers compared to an entire kingdom?” One of her parents’ advisors had once so cruelly asked. His statement may have been true, but no less unaware and detached.) 

The war is taking its toll on the kingdom and its people, but if a passerby were to look at this fete, no one would know the wiser, save for the naval officers dressed in their finest uniforms. The truth is that Emma’s parents may be right. Those in attendance certainly appear happy and joyous. Besides, it also gives the men choosing to risk their lives some recognition of their own.

Emma has spent much of the evening charming these men, thanking them for their service to the crown. She walks through the crowd, entertaining some with dances, others with pleasant conversation. Her cheeks hurt from forcing a smile so much, but she thinks this is a small price to pay. They are the ones making the sacrifice, not her.

Towards the end of the evening, one of her parents’ most trusted knights, Sir Lancelot, waves her over. He is standing by two naval officers. Estimating by their decorations, one is a Captain, the other Lieutenant. They’re both handsome, tall with dark hair and blue eyes. Judging by the way the Lieutenant has been carrying himself the entire night, he certainly knows it, too. Not that Emma’s noticed him previously, not at all. 

“Princess Emma, I would like to introduce you to two of our finest officers, Captain and Lieutenant Jones,” Sir Lancelot begins. “They serve on our flagship vessel, The Jewel of the Realm. I have been informed by the Admiral that we would have lost a number of battles without their quick maneuvering.”

To the credit of the Captain, a hint of a blush crosses his cheeks.

“Thank you both for your service,” Emma says, nodding her head politely. Captain Jones nods and bows, ever the model of respectability, but his brother catches her eye with a devastating grin.

“The pleasure is all mine, Princess.” He reaches for her hand, bowing dramatically as he brushes his lips against her knuckles. “If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it.”

“So you believe our meeting is worth the blood of hundreds of men, Lieutenant?”

The color drains for Lieutenant Jones’ face, his jaw drops and eyes widen. Whatever response the man had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. Emma takes certain pleasure in her knocking the arrogant naval officer off guard. He attempts to stammer a response – “What…No, Princess…that’s not – “ 

“Because, trust me, Lieutenant, the safety of our kingdom is the only thing worth that price.”

With that, Emma turns away from the men without so much as proper goodbye. As she disappears into the crowd, she can hear Sir Lancelot’s distinctive laugh intermingled with the Captain scolding the silent Lieutenant about “bad form.” Emma doesn’t know why Lieutenant Jones’ words rankled her so, just that when he said them there was a surge of annoyance. She supposes it probably was a result of her own underlying feelings regarding the frivolity of the party.

Later she finds herself standing on a balcony, peering at her blanketed kingdom. The chill of winter provides a nice contrast to the heat of the ballroom, and the stillness of the outdoors serves as a contrast to the revelry indoors. Emma doesn’t understand how the world can appear so peaceful when it really was the opposite, fraught with war and death. 

“Does everything have to be a contradiction?” She asks aloud to herself. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” is the reply, and Emma jumps at the sound of the unexpected voice.

“It’s not proper to sneak up on a princess, you know,” Emma says, not bothering to turn around to properly greet the interloper in an attempt to gain control of the situation.

“My apologies,” he says, and Emma finally recognizes the voice as Lieutenant Jones. Emma half expects him to leave or wait for further acknowledgement, but instead he steps forward to stand by her side. It’s a daring move. “I actually came to find you to apologize for offending you earlier.” 

“For offending me? I believe what you said went far beyond offending me, Lieutenant. You sullied the sacrifice of good men, for what? To meet a princess?” Emma asked, her voice biting and sharp. She finally turns to him only to be met with blazing blue eyes and a set jaw. He looks annoyed, and that frustrates Emma even more.

“I stand by what you think I said,” he replies, his voice gruff. “But don’t for a second believe, Your Highness, that I do not care about the sacrifices of my fellow sailors. They are my brothers in arms, not yours. They only served you. I bled with them.” 

“Then why make light of the war?”

“Because with all of the death and destruction, it has to mean something, don’t you think?” Lieutenant Jones asks her. He moves closer to her, and she can feel his breath on her skin, warm against the cool night air. “If not for the war, neither my brother nor I would be able to honor our names. I never would have had the chance to travel to new lands. And this lowly lieutenant never would have had the chance to converse with his sovereign. I have to look toward the light to continue fighting the darkness.”

Emma scoffs. “It’s war. Of course it is dark. Men are dying. Villages are being destroyed.”

“But that doesn’t mean that there can’t still be good among the bad.” Lieutenant Jones’ expression is so earnest, she almost wants to believe him. It sounds like something her parents would say, and Emma doesn’t know if that makes his words more or less receptive to her ears. “I can prove it to you, if you’d like.” 

She smirks. “I’d like to see you try.”

 -/-

 Lieutenant Jones sticks to his word, almost going out of his way in an attempt to prove to her that light can be found in even the darkest of places. It annoys her at first, the presumption that he could challenge and change her viewpoint. It’s not that she’s close-minded, but it’s the arrogance at which he approaches the situation that gets her, so sure that he will be proven right in the end. She actually ignores his first few letters from him as a result, unwilling to encourage his audacity. He is not deterred, however, instead finding encouragement in her silence, almost as if he believes it means she knows he could win. 

It probably violates some sort of code or expectation, him writing to her and her writing back. Even as a lieutenant in the Royal Navy, he is still far below his station, and is therefore playing a dangerous game. Should Emma get too irritated with his attentions, she could very well have him decommissioned…or worse. Such is the power of the Crown Princess. The Lieutenant must be well aware of this fact, he is not an idiot, but still he persists. This is what draws Emma to him and leads her to finally read and respond to his letters – not his optimism, nor his persistence, but his fearlessness in approaching her. He treats her not as a prize to be sought, but as a mind to be challenged. It is refreshing change to the eligible men who normally approach her. Not that the Lieutenant has made any advances since the first night they met.

It does not go without notice that he writes beautifully. His letters detail his exploits, highlighting the bright moments bookended between battles. He speaks of strange ports, unfamiliar tongues, and overzealous merchants. His stories don’t convince her that he is right about the possible upsides to war, but she still finds value in his words, especially when he talks of his battles. 

He writes of those in such vivid detail that Emma can almost imagine she was there with him in the heat of the fight. His words make her feel less trapped within her castle walls, allow her to pretend she has a deeper understanding of war and what it entails. As a child, she once overheard Lancelot and many of her father’s knights commiserate over their war stories, but they pale in comparison to the narrative Lieutenant Jones weaves.

Her heart aches for him, because she can tell the pain he feels when he drafts eulogies for his fallen brothers in arms. She now knows he truly meant what he said that night at the ball, how he truly hates the death of each and every sailor. It seems silly now, and she Emma feels embarrassed by the fact, that she doubted his words back then. She doesn’t tell him so in her responses, she’s a bit too prideful for that, but she does attempt to send back comfort, hope, and support, whatever she feels can uplift his spirits. She hopes it works. Her words seem to, because he often thanks her for acknowledging her letters, a bit of humor shining through here or there.

“I see I’m beginning to win you over, Princess.”

She doesn’t quite understand how the introspective and caring man who writes her these letters can be the same one who so callously reduced their meeting to one of the benefits of war. As their correspondence continues, Princess Emma cannot deny one simple fact. 

She is increasingly becoming more and more thankful that they met.

 -/-

 Months pass, letters are traded, and balls are held.

Tonight is one such night. Just as with the night Emma first met Lieutenant Jones, snow is creeping steadily from the sky, blanketing the gardens and castle in white. Though it is the early vestiges of spring, winter is unforgiving on its hold of the kingdom. Unlike the night where she first crossed the path of Lieutenant Jones, however, she’s spent the weeks leading to this night waiting in high anticipation. 

Not that she tells him that.

Instead she smiles coyly as he spins her around the ballroom in an intricate waltz, unwilling to let on just how happy she is to her lieutenant again. Emma’s long since stopped trying to discover when he became “her lieutenant” in her head – a person isn’t one to own – but he is reserved in a special place in her heart and mind that no one’s quite occupied in the same way before. It’s equal parts thrilling and terrifying, but instead of running, she chases the feeling.

“You’ve cut your hair,” Emma comments, her fingers lightly brushing against the nape of his neck. The last she had seen of him, he wore his hair in a neat queue. Now, it is cropped short. She thinks he looks better this way. Not that she tells him that, either.

“Aye, but it wasn’t by choice. I came a bit too close the wrong end of a blade,” he responds, his wince at the memory exaggerated for her amusement. “Thankfully, a bit of a haircut doesn’t detract from my devilishly handsome good looks, so no harm done.” 

“You didn’t tell me that!”

“That I’m devilishly handsome? Princess, I was hoping you would have noticed by now.” Lieutenant Jones throws at her a wicked, teasing smile, his eyes alight with mirth. He sobers quickly at her responding glare. “Honestly, I didn’t know you wanted me to tell you everything. I can, if you so desire.”

“I do so desire, Lieutenant.”

“Killian. If I’m to reveal my darkest of stories, you should at least call me by my given name,” her Lieutenant – Killian – responds. For a moment, he looks nervous, as if he knows he is overstepping his bounds, but he recovers quickly. “What would you like to know?” 

“Anything. Everything. You painted me the most wonderful pictures in your letters, Killian, that I really do want to hear them all,” Emma answers, noting how blushes at her compliment and the sound of his name on her lips. “But since you apparently were not so keen on telling me of your more dangerous exploits, then I want to hear that. What else was so dangerous that you felt like you couldn’t tell me?” 

He is silent for a moment, his movements slowing as he considers her statement. Emma doesn’t care that they’ve begun to fall out of step with the music, far too intrigued by the series of emotions that are playing out across his handsome face. “You want something dangerous then? Truly dangerous? The most dangerous one of all?”

“Do as your princess commands, Killian.” 

“Okay,” he says, steeling himself. “There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of you.”

His statement may have not been what she expected, but Lieutenant Killian Jones is right – this is the most dangerous story of all. 

Lieutenant Jones – Killian – looks at her with such deep blue eyes. They’ve since stopped moving, standing still in a storm of spinning dancers. He’s biting his lower lip, looking completely uncertain and doubting the leap of faith he just took. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but certainly one of intention, and his intention is one not meant for someone of his station.

He is lowborn, has not even an acre of land to his name. He confessed as much in his earlier letters, conveyed his desire to make something of the Jones name that meant so little to generations prior. She is a princess. She has expectations to marry, produce heirs, carry on her family’s name and reputation in an entirely different sort of way. Any sort of match or romantic liaison between them would be wrought in scandal. Emma can already envision the fit her parents’ advisors would throw if she were to announce that she intended to court a Naval Lieutenant.

But still…she remembers that her mother married a shepherd, and that her parents raised her with the promise of True Love, even if she doesn’t really know what it means. She recalls that in the early planning stages of the ball, her mother made passing comments about the man whose letters Emma held close to her chest, a knowing look in her eyes. Maybe, just maybe, she thinks, revealing a bit of herself to her Lieutenant would not be so terrible. 

So she follows his lead, and takes a leap.

“Good.”

His answering smile is wide and brilliant, and one of the most beautiful things she has even seen. She’s starting to believe that maybe he was right the first night they met – there might be some light worth the cost of the darkness of war. 

Not that she tells him that.

 -/-

 She kisses him on the docks, his fellow sailors whistling and her guards glowering as their lips meet in goodbye.  She tells him that she wishes that he stay safe, and he tells her not to worry, that he will be fine.

“I’ll only be an ocean away,” he says with a wink, not at all addressing her real insecurities, the ones that invade her dreams and warp them into nightmares of him dying in the heat of battle. “I’ll be back, Emma, I swear it.” 

“Just promise me that you’ll stay safe.”

“Of course, love, I’m a survivor.”

He kisses her one final time, stronger than before, and she returns it with just as much fervor, earning more jeers from the crew and a distinct clearing of throats from her guards. And then he is gone to his ship and back to the war, with the promise of more letters, one every time they make port, and she is left waiting, always waiting for a peace that won’t come quickly enough. 

If she struggled with the war before Lieutenant Killian Jones entered her life, she has no idea how to describe her feelings now. Her sleep is plagued by nightmares of watching him die, her standing by unable to do anything to save him (And she can’t, so far away in her castle.) Blockades take new meaning, and she hangs onto every word of reports from the fronts when she sits in on council meetings. If anyone notices her renewed interests in the more tactical aspects of the war, they don’t comment on it.

They do, however, comment on other things, namely her blossoming romance with the naval lieutenant. Her parents seem happy for the most part, and encourage her along in her quest for True Love – not that she would call what she and her lieutenant have that. (Yet.) The councilors, who care not for her heart, balk at the idea, some more open than others. One night she thinks she finds hope when she hears one of her father’s more trusted men argue to “Let them be. We all know how young love is,” only for her hopes to be truly dashed when it is followed with, “Chances are, the boy will be killed and we won’t have to worry. ‘Tis the way of war.” 

Her heart seizes at that, hearing confirmation that her nightmares could become a reality. She doesn’t like being powerless like this, having her heart held by someone in a place and situation over which she has no control. It makes her feel weak, and she loathes the emotion. Her mother finds her crying in her chambers one night, unable to reconcile bother her overwhelming love and terror while simultaneously drowning in the loneliness of not having her lieutenant by her side. 

Her mother holds her, whispers soothing words in a way that reminds Emma of her childhood. She feels foolish crying like this. She is one and twenty, not a toddler afraid of the dark, but that thought only makes her cry harder. 

“I know it hurts. Love is rarely easy. That’s what makes it special,” her mother says, fingers stroking Emma’s hair. “Early on, your father and I were separated quite a bit, and every time we parted, I would worry. It gets better, though, easier with time. I promise.”

Emma tries to take her mother’s words to heart. The whole thing is just so confusing to her. She wants to talk to Killian about it, her conflicting emotions, her fears of her death, how members of the council seem to even be wishing for it. She begins dozens of letters, and plans to use her mother’s birds to send them, but the words don’t come easy and guilt consumes her when they do. She doesn’t want to worry him with her own trivial concerns. He is fighting for his life and the kingdom as she sits idly in her palace. It would be unfair of her to unload on him. Besides, in the letters she does receive from him, he sounds so hopeful and happy. She can’t take that away.

His letters are just as powerful and descriptive as before, but this time his words are laced with flirtation and innuendo, each letter beginning with “My dearest, Emma” and closing with “to the best of women.” He tells her how the golden rays of the sun’s early light simply cannot compare to the brightness of her hair – “a pale imitation of your beauty, my love.” He tells that he dreams of her smile, and muses that his brother’s ship must have been named after her, because truly she is the greatest treasure in this, or any realm. He tells her that he cannot wait to return to her, that nothing can stand between him and her – not even a war.

“I hope you’ve realized by now that I am right about this whole war. It’s a terrible, terrible thing, but it’s brought me to you. You’re proof to this orphan that amidst darkness, there can be bright, brilliant light. You are my light, princess, the reason I keep fighting.”

After she didn’t rebuke him for his original confession that he constantly thought of her, he initially followed it with a tease about the reason being that he needed to stay alive to prove her wrong, because he “does so loathe anyone considering him to be in the wrong.” His letters tell a different story, though, one that warms her heart and encourages her to face her own torment of inactivity. 

When her own doubts begin to overtake her, she thinks back on that one week that they shared together after the ball and before he returned to see. They had been so happy then, flirting and courting, taking long walks around the gardens and stealing kisses in shadowed corridors and empty rooms. They had talked then, not as princess and lieutenant, but as a young man and woman on the cusp of young love. It had been nice to talk to him face-to-face, to hear and not read his words. In person, he had been just as witty, charming even, no matter how ardently he denied it – still denies it, even. “I’m not your father, love.”

And he isn’t. Killian Jones is his own man, but just as Snow White fell for the shepherd-turned-prince, Emma takes certain delight in the fact that she’s falling for someone of lowly birth, as well. There’s a certain poetry to it. Her parents found True Love in one another, and though she’s not ready to admit she and Killian are there quite yet, the thought grounds her. But rest assured, Emma is ready for two simple things: for the war to end, and for her to see her Lieutenant again. 

-/-

The war ends.

A blockade followed by a siege is what convinces the opposing kingdom to surrender, unwilling to allow any more of its citizens to starve and bleed. It’s a nasty business, war, and on human level, Emma feels uncomfortable with just what had to be done to ensure victory and protect their kingdom. Treaties still need to be signed and drafted, of course, but those will come quickly. As princess, she’ll be joining her parents in the negotiations. A not small part of her is eager to flex her diplomatic skills, to learn the nuances of soft power after a hard fought battle. One day, she will be Queen and the responsibility will fall to her shoulders. She hopes that time is far away. She’s not quite ready for that duty, nor does she want to lose her parents ever. But, her ascending to the throne is an inevitably, so Emma must learn.

In her spare moments, Emma counts down until she can once again see Killian. The war’s end means he can return home, and when he returns home, their courtship can continue. Every now and then, she finds herself glancing down to her bare finger, and wonders how soon it will be adorned with a ring. She also wonders that if – when – they become engaged, how Killian will fare by her side as a member of the royal family. He’ll be Prince Consort, of course, as he has no titles nor any land. Emma doubts he’ll mind.

She’s never been one to fantasize about weddings, but more often than not, she finds her thoughts drifting to balls and white dresses adorned with jewels, Killian dressed in Naval regalia. She daydreams of a marriage, of becoming a partnership, him and her. They compliment one another quite well and he certainly challenges her. Her mother always advised her to fall for someone who doesn’t allow you to be complacent, and that suits Emma just fine.

But then the worst happens, and Emma’s dreams go up in smoke.

News of the war, it seems, had not spread to everyone. An enemy vessel had seen a ship with Misthaven banners, and a skirmish had erupted. Her father tells her this gently, her mother by her side, and it’s then that Emma realizes that it hadn’t been any ship that was attacked, but the Jewel of the Realm. Captain Liam Jones is dead, they tell her. There’s no word on Killian.

For as many tears as Emma had shed during their early separation, Emma cries little now. She is oddly resolute. In shock, some say, and maybe she is. But Emma knows she cannot allow herself to fall apart, not when Killian’s world has been upended.

Killian isn’t dead. That she refuses to believe. She would know, wouldn’t she? Her parents have that sort of bond, why shouldn’t she and Killian? They love one another, don’t they? So, no, he isn’t dead.

But Liam is. That she knows. And if Liam is dead, Killian needs her. His brother means everything to him. She can tell by the reverent way Killian had written about him in his letters. Emma had been hoping, perhaps naively, to someday meet that man that means so much to the man she loves. But, she’ll never get that chance. Killian will also never get the chance for everything he’d been dreaming of. It’s the beginning of a nightmare, and she knows not when she’ll wake.

It grows worse after the Jewel is spotted heading toward port. She’d commanded that she be alerted when it was seen on the horizon, and she hurries down to the docks, her skirts swirling around her legs when a courier brings word. Her parents follow along, diligent in their care for her. They don’t speak it aloud, but they also believe Killian to be dead. But they’re wrong. They must be. They stand together as the Jewel comes closer. Surely, it’s an odd sight watching the royal family huddle so close together. It’s against normal protocol, surely, but Emma doesn’t care and neither do her parents. Killian means something to Emma, after all. After what feels like an eternity, she can finally make out then men on the Jewel. Most of them are strangers to her, but there are a few familiar faces she recognizes from the balls. The Jewel, itself, appears worse from wear, but it’s sailing. That’s what matters. It’s seaworthy enough to bring these men home, and she prays to every god she can think that one of those men is Killian. Then, she sees him. Emma is unable to make him out particularly well, but she knows it is him, knows it deep down in her bones. She exhales deeply, and her father claps his hand over her shoulder when she does. He’s home. He’s safe. After what feels like an eternity, the ship is docked and the gangplank lowered. Emma watches as the sailors disembark. Her parents thank each one, and they look grateful. Hollow still, but the appear to appreciate the gesture. Rarely anyone gets greeted by the King and Queen this way. Emma ought to greet them, as well, but she’s too busy waiting on Killian. Then, realizing that she doesn’t actually have to wait, she rushes up the gangplank to the deck of the ship. “Where’s Killian?” Emma asks one of the remaining stragglers, and he indicates that Killian had gone down the Captain’s Quarters. It would be the height of impropriety to go down unattended, but Emma hardly cares at this point. She gathers her skirts and climbs down the ladder. If Killian notices, he doesn’t acknowledge her. Instead, he remains sitting a desk, quill scratching into a thick book. A captain’s logbook, Emma thinks. 

“Killian?”

He looks up then, and Emma’s heart sinks. His expression is so broken, so sad. Dark circles are under his eyes, and his beard is thicker. She wants to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and tell him everything will be okay. But that would be a lie, so she remains standing by the ladder.

“Princess,” he greets, and there’s no warmth in his tone. She pretends it doesn’t hurt.

“Killian, I’m…” She stumbles over her words, unsure of what to say next. Everything that comes to mind sounds so small compared to his monumental loss. Knowing she needs to say something, she settles on the simplest phrase, even if it does make her feel stupid. “I’m so sorry about Liam.”

“You should be,” Killian says, and it’s as if he’s just slapped her. He stands from the desk, pushing outward with an excessive use of force. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to report to the Admiral regarding the mission and my brother’s death.”

Emma holds her ground, even as she feels like crying. This is not the reunion she imagined. Not anything close. “Killian, what are you saying?” 

“I’d rather not talk right now, Princess.” 

“Well, I’d rather, so we are,” she says. She moves in front of the ladder. He’d have to physically move her out of way to leave, something she doubts he’d do. “What did you mean, by I should be sorry?” 

“It was your war, wasn’t it? Liam wouldn’t have been dead if not for that,” he explains. He doesn’t look her in the eyes when he tells her this, but she can hear the bubbling rage beneath her words. 

“I didn’t ask for this war, and I certainly didn’t want him to die.” She doesn’t shrink away from him, even as her heart breaks. “Besides, he knew what he was getting into when he—“ 

“You don’t get to say what he knew or didn’t know!” Killian argues. He looks up to her then, and Emma can see the red rimming his eyes. She wants to reach out to him, but doesn’t.

“I suppose I don’t, but I also don’t think you need to be yelling at me like this,” she says quietly. “I didn’t want this, never.” 

“Then leave, Emma.” 

“I don’t want to leave you right now. You’re hurting.” This time she reaches out to him, but it is Killian’s turn to shrink away. 

“Go.” 

Tears in her eyes, she acquiesces to his request. She does not tell him she loves him, and thinks maybe, just maybe she had been right all those months ago when they’d first met. There is no light.

 -/-

 It’s been weeks since she last spoke to Killian. Her heart feels as if it’s been torn from her chest, and crushed in front of her. She’d cried after she’d left him. Her father had been out for Killian’s blood, but her mother must have talked him out of anything too drastic.

 She misses him. He might have hurt her, but she misses him. What’s left of her heart longs for him. Despite his silence, she still wants to comfort him. Is this what love is like? It’s something she asked her mother.

 “He shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, but grief can make even the best of us lose our minds,” her mother had told her, her words providing a small comfort. Her mother offers no assurances that Killian will come back around, a clear sign that she doesn’t expect him to. There have been many times over the past few weeks that Emma has considering taking that step and offering an olive branch. But then she reminds herself that she did nothing wrong in this. The war hadn’t been her choice. Liam joining the Navy hadn’t been her choice. An enemy ship attacking hadn’t been her choice. Nothing had been her fault in this. If Killian wants to speak to her, he will have to make the first move. Recalling his grief, Emma doubts he will. But just as he done so before, he proves her wrong yet again.

He visits her on a snowy day. White snow blankets the castle’s grounds, and cold envelops the land, similar to the day they first met. In fact, it’s almost the year anniversary of that day. Emma is sitting by a roaring fire, a quilt thrown over her legs, when he comes. She’d been trying her hand at needlepoint, and her fingers have been pricked more times than she can count, but she carries on. 

It is her mother who tells Emma he is here. “I can send him away if you’d like. Your father would surely prefer it, but this is your choice.” 

“Send him in.”

Her mother gives her one parting look, and then privacy. Her mother trusts her to do what’s best for her heart, and that is something Emma appreciates.

“Hello,” Killian greets when he enters the parlor. Emma doesn’t rise to greet him, but she sits her poor attempt at needlework aside.

Killian tries to approach her, but thinks better of it. Instead of talking, they sit in silence for a few moments. There have been so many words left unsaid between them. Emma thinks about how months ago, she’d longed for nothing more except a moment to be with him, however now she is afraid of having her heart crushed further. 

“Why are you here?” she asks, and she hates how brittle her voice sounds.

“I came to apologize. I behaved quite dishonorably the last time we talked,” Killian tells her. He moves closer to her, even if his movements resemble those of a skittish kitten. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.” 

“You shouldn’t have.” 

“I know. It doesn’t absolve me in any way, but I was hurting,” he explains. “Liam was,” he voice cracks, “he was all I had for the longest time, and I didn’t know how to act without him. Rest assured, had he been alive, he would have cuffed me for treating you like that.” 

“Had he been alive, I doubt you would have acted that way.”

“No, I wouldn’t have,” he admits. He looks away from her and toward the fire, shamefaced. “After you left, I immediately regretted what I said. I wanted to follow after you, and beg for your forgiveness, but I was a coward.”

“I would have given it to you,” Emma says immediately, and it’s true. She would have forgiven him, she would have welcomed him back into his arms.

“And now?” 

“You hurt me quite a bit.” 

“Aye.” Killian rakes his hand through his hair. It’s a bit longer than the day he had departed once again for the war, but nowhere near as long as it had been when they met. “Before all this, I had a plan, you know.”

“Oh?” She doesn’t mean to sound so interested, but she does. 

“I was going to ask your father for your hand. I’d already had a ring, and I had been practicing how I’d ask with Liam. He said I was abysmal, but your father would still be a fool to turn me down,” he explains. His eyes take a glassy quality as he speaks, and Emma knows her own eyes reflect the same. A tear rolls down her cheek, but she refrains from wiping it away.

“I would have liked that.”

“And now?”

“And now I think my father would definitely turn you down,” Emma says with a small laugh. It’s not a confirmation of her answer, because she truly doesn’t know how’d she respond. Her heart had swooped when he’d made his confession. It had been everything she’d wanted, but his previous silence still hurt her, far more than his words ever could.

“I’ve been thinking about the night we first met,” Killian tells her, changing the topic of their conversation. Emma leans toward him, but says nothing more in a silent encouragement for him to continue. “I was naïve then, talking to you of all those grandiose ideas of how meeting you was worth the war.”

“So you don’t believe it now?” She asks, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.

“Yes and no. I’d told you about how I’d lost brothers in arms, but it wasn’t a loss quite like…like Liam,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t have said anything of the sort to you had I lost him then.”

“Oh.”

“But at the same time, if I’d never met you, I probably would have drowned myself in the bottle,” he tells her. He reaches out to take her hand, and Emma does not pull it away. “Thinking of you kept my grief from completely consuming me. I stumbled, clearly, the day I was reunited with you. And these few weeks without you have been hell. But if you had never come into my life, if I had never fallen in love with you, I don’t think I could have survived it.”

“You’re stronger than you think.” 

“I’m not, not after how I behaved to you,” Killian tells her. “I know I don’t deserve it. I doubt I will, but I hope, someday, to find forgiveness.”

“Of course.” They don’t say anything after that. Emma squeezes is hand, and pulls Killian into a hug. In the comfort of her arms, he cries.

She doesn’t let go.

 -/-

 Killian proposes in the early spring, and they wed in the summer.

The heat is unbearable, but they solider through. Killian spins her around the ballroom for the first dance, and Emma laughs. The kingdom is in peace, and the happiness and frivolity does not feel misplaced. In fact, it feels deserved after everything they’ve been through. Liam’s presence is missed, but they find their ways to honor him. She commissions a painting based on a drawing Killian had made of Liam, and it hangs in one of the royal halls. Killian wears his brother’s sabre during the ceremony, and no one stands by his side by choice as they recite their vows. 

It’d taken some time for Killian to win her father over, but he had done so. It had taken numerous talks between the two men, and a personal conversation between Emma and and father, one where he’d asked her where he heart lay. She’d told him the truth – it was, and will forever be, with Killian Jones.

She might not have met him if not for the war. He wouldn’t have been without his brother if not for the war. The war had made their lives fuller and shattered them all the same. But in the end, they found the light amongst they darkness. They found one another. 

And they lived happily ever after.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs au #captain swan ff #lieutenant duckling #s writes fic

[libidomechanica]

I sit and pebbles of the thick folds

A limerick sequence

               1

Break my chain, to share these virtuous, that hope is lost. Perhaps not a Slave    of Lust must still he bind    his lips to search, such a Reign, his Tribes in so euill contented?

               2

Sick Soul! No more; till she paused by Florian added; she within his own:    but change decree? The    misery is great shapes of the publique Good, add to the wrong berth.

               3

With melting eyes and high spires, when he most rauishing down the pavement were fleet    of beaten. She stroke. That    was beauty’s grace is such, that then might I found, or the iewell.

               4

Though beauty’s daughters of Albany. The lily, unheeded these? With shadows,    where nys to be found    the crowd were but to- With gold; and go but it is holy!

               5

Our Laws for such, must bear a’ the last leave me despair: now called love is. Come    away, wants to belong,    that of Loue, and sunburnt mirth! Intent on her tears are all those.

               6

Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward, nam’d fourth, as first—my heart, there are dazled    with Love, as when you reached,    thy cup’s heart. Feasted the Pigmy Body to declaim again.

               7

Thereupon she the Peoples Foes: yet some good a King! Eating pavement, old    naked is, time was once    burnt, such a loft, and calmly flows, has the summer days was odds.

               8

My heart. Thus on my knees. The snowcap gleams with too much. And his pence, this year    had exploded symmetrically    from myself, and thee. His father to his native sway?

               9

Sea! Or let his jive ass back again undone. Fools that sweet, sweetness, gossip    and founded old dreams, before    we part, I must tell her will; she would be dear. Together.

               10

And providence did Joyn, for plighted sands; oh night! It was mine’—why am    I sitting under our    lives; and to Loyalty express, still nobler wealth, the soul seeks.

               11

Bury me while by themselves assured and the Regal Rights. Premier or king!    Devoid of Godly Faction,    and the softer Adams of your generous as your Praise.

               12

Consumed with him Return. Today when I was taken from times been married    him out of him: when we    streams of your wineglass is so lovely that I brought up true.

               13

&Alone, twas Nature they learning and set a title vaine scuse giue? Because    of course as Samuel used    to bite the circuses, so I was disrooted, earth-anchored.

               14

And kept, and Love, t’ acquit such as the brain an image pure? The Lucius    Junius Brutus of    my desire, slew both heavens Annointed to be Out-done.

               15

Our Authour sweet Beauties white, before have we promise it is winter’s art    in reigne dissembling limbs.    Will topple to toil, than prove the turmoils they have an ending.

               16

Tell if she had given to ken the side-lie of a winter outside and    hymns in three years ago    to the sink. It flash of air—am I and Debauchee of Dew.

               17

You were the sequel of thy mind. Was uncertain their busy days. Now that    had well for that, but scant    appear; the State; but sweeping like a green wood, see ye warp not.

               18

Sick, and vine: but with Brocade of two, and set my heart which whoever tastes    shall I fix you, freeze you,    my Friends destroyeth. I’ll love’s delight can never broke his Highness.

               19

Behold talk, and groned, Alack, Alack, Alack. Then, love me, Royal Planet    rul’d the Nation grieve:    for witnesses will show then shoud People mighty Years, thy breast.

               20

With my net. Well hearts, which did not do. Against the court to Lady Psyche,    ’ Florian asked, to whome    my Muse tumbled thou so fair as thou take the Serpent the house.

               21

That Change their hushed joy, going schwa in the chain of life, whom we love the sonne.    Two plummets dropt for once    again with much contemns poverty, and turned the wine in ten?

               22

For Ten to One, in for a sigh—it was desolate and she forget the    vats upon those who give    their Posterity. Deepening breast. See thee vantage melts the Prince.

               23

And mark yon meeting. Has exercis’d the Government. We lie near each other,    and tempt the texts written    in the vista of years, but the gayne, paying but a child.

               24

How might drink your bookless wings: from reddened eve he view; else call it winter    in Florida. And    Jebusite. Never been arraigned, to leap the deed he loathes?

               25

Rebellion may come, can yet thy image of touch unique to us. Lies    hatching still strongest; the    bright still and of power; your back. As an infant joys renew!

               26

The Gate her Kind? Of foes the rose. What are you that may be dissolved in rosy    wine while Nation’s Curse,    to Plots, shall aske. This love even, as if to love has made of.

               27

He stride, which it was bom old. There lies a bright Marigold of Leutha, seeking    flood on a mailens.    Fame: I now that heavy do I journey on the shepheards swaine.

               28

By their praise, that will Oothoon is on her smiles, and the window my body    a bundle of grave-damps    falling through. The morning saw the Ladyes their forms of delight.

               29

And catch at and light; yet then whom the earth and trouble free. Sea, low, low, breath    into thee ioy of the    tree of life in the outer air were most faith or honor’s laws.

               30

Is not the rose. And which is why you feel to-day. While times; then grew more strong    to me did beam. The Joyfull    Peoples Prayer, then given its own improbable bees.

               31

I pluck the Prince your lap, and thus she sings. One little eyes which being spent,    in lustihede and glasse    he tooke: wherein I am not mine own weakness be undone.

               32

She wound so fit for him he Suffer, that made him good glee, all for Worship    at the leg. For witnesse    of that her sighs. Like salt over and because the promise, all.

               33

Was a bus. Not entering in my brain, to take the Fury of disbelief,    the new name thou shalt    find this frenzy insufficient reason, and Priest, which the things?

               34

Best and bring waters round were closed. Th’ Offending on the blow of Fate,    the small remember, do    not this Vertue is made; and when, wise afright, yet Dauntless and die!

               35

The tin-roofed station. With the Dutch a thick upon the highway, but never    honest man that pines for    hir darlings sake, knowing the me once asleep: so the summers.

               36

With the secret shadows numberless, of perfect song into our Eyes; a    Cataract that, nor any    such skirts of the human kind. Him of the Law shall we think!

               37

Began to glare at me on me! When, as if they meet; so unhappily    forsworn. Make the state, the    Devil is still succeed the face you see,—with such skirts of France.

               38

Like a sea-fish. And let go. As, thou art a queer sort of its own work marred:    for the sill and clown: perhaps    from Foes unpunish’d never Ceases to acceptance be.

               39

With content, happy, nestling for his head, at night all that is far conquer    all thy shadow, like thee    to thee. ’St that rich fooles there! Whence doth cherish his complain.

               40

Rather Curse with mighty potentates, louers of Lordship and tremble? In them,    messing the striking    resemblance between a bag of individually the kitchen.

               41

And are nothing strange cup amassed five beetle brow sun-shaded in snow: arise    to the Lady Psyche,    both in excess! Making love or coyn, in Corah’s own heart.

               42

Or book or lute; but not your love her, and pledge, and a Wife. At either close    the Slaves.&Carved so elaborately    maybe a college friends, and the elms, and whay, and place.

               43

Foment to gathering darkness is in my Muse or a cov’ring to Jack,    and laid out a shadows?    Old England: old England, old England: old England: old England.

               44

Though lesse gifts impe feathers grace my grief! Boom of the publick Scorn, our only    tutor us to eke    out rapture’s gentle English ground, dark vault above payment?

               45

Men adore in the brilliant body. Long ago, they obey the long vine    creeps beside thy white Tablet—    Yes—’tis uninscrib’d and sea, clean out of sight; in content?

               46

Presence o’ lovely, that’s more could every things past bounds of every line you    were but the noblest freedom.    Such faitors, when the heavenly features trick of their Names.

               47

A winnins o’ marrying to be foundations, always will. One another.    On a straw to suck    all the Kirke pillours eare day light, a noble forms makes summer.

               48

Places its harp and true heart! To Compass this flea is you are my father    warm heart into the summits    of the burdenous, but oh that gan weepe: for all his Bloud.

               49

Perchance, with desires to Woods and Sopps in wing’d exulting swift to scent,    inexorable on    earth has left. For human shores came features dear. From hence began.

               50

Sweet love, that Oothoon weeps not; she can giue words you sobbed, and no more. No little    Lilia please them    bemone that lay at wine with blot of Treason was nourish’d by.

               51

The maid of honest morn. And a million horrible thunders; on his golden    hair. And thus I turn    my fashion, the wharves with the bright the Sabbath, but for me!

               52

And all, the gift refuse, nor find my throbbe from his immortal moon has always    on the mind! Or God    decreed those child of Bromion said, oh Shah, who Heavenly Fire.

               53

The creature newly-caged, commend wise Issachar, his weight upon the loss    of man, the prey of sea    and with words, we conscience will have it always will. Grouped in Pearl.

               54

Farewell, and make Treasons Heavens. Woman and Balkís a Secret from all    ills else, for he has a    human form, the long black piano our guided and erasèd.

               55

To spread her coat so astoundingly— a gift, a lover, and he who turns    of true hearted was he:    bound for stronger we. For Lawfull Pow’r controul. This husbandman?

               56

Yet witches may repenting to save my yet you oil my scalp. Some civic    manhood firm again and    of peace; Gray halls alone, whose dear light upon the stone; the churl.

               57

From nightly prey, and in seeming sleep. Then they sat, had eyes be hel-driu’n from    the miles as she fled,    and Patriot yet, because I love and pressing on the leg.

               58

Tell me without my Leave us: you many good tribute paid: nor this, and    size that often the Doctors,    elegies and queuing up from my soul seeks. My fancy.

               59

I would fetch a pretty one, sleep, my little eyes the crowd—but you to whom    all hem remayne, that he    seem’d as he were starke lame. And marriage bed! A better to thee.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #184 texts #limerick sequence

[galiifreywolf]

Kings & Lords

by WhoMe

complete ~ 31 chapters ~ 117490 words ~ explicit

TEASPOON Rose Tyler never imagined she would one day marry a King, especially when she knew her heart belonged to a Lord. Will the possibility of a forced marriage to another force the boundaries of the Doctor and Rose’s relationship to be crossed once and for all, or will it drive them apart? --- This whole series is something special, but I find myself coming back time and time again to “book one,” Kings & Lords. It’s the ultimate in slow burn and mutual pining for Rose and Ten, and the story itself is hard to beat. This easily could have made for an epic two-parter special and been better than half the canon episodes. This is the fic that I learned to love the telepathic bonding trope, and that changed my life. Note: The follow-on stories in the series are excellent too, but are closer to canon re-write, whereas this first story is TOTALLY unique, and I love that. 10/10 recommend the entire series.

#whome #adventure #marriage #confessions #smut #first time #faves #bookshelf #fic #telepathy #angst

[neonvqmpire]

“you are my light when faith is hard to find”

The Rise of Skywalker song countdown: day 22 of 22

- 0 DAYS LEFT -

Turned on the tv yesterday

So much pain bleeding through I had to look away

But inside me the picture's just the same

And every time I open up my eyes nothing seems to change

It never seems to change

You give me faith to believe there's a way

To put the past finally behind me

And hope to make it through another night

You give me strength during these dark times when I'm blind

You are my light when faith is hard to find

Something woke me in the night

In the midst of the darkness I recognize the light

Now inside me the picture seems so clear

All the dying in my broken dreams is starting to appear

Starting to appear

You give me faith to believe there's a way

To put the past finally behind me

And hope to make it through another night

You give me strength during these dark times when I'm blind

You are my light when faith is hard to find

Faith is hard to find

If I fall will you hold on to me?

Through it all promise you won't lose me?

These days hope is hard to come by

And tonight I don't know how I can't survive

I’m posting this currently sitting in the cinema waiting for tros to start and honestly I AM NOT FUCKING READY. Not only ends this the story of our star crossed lovers, but also the whole Skywalker saga. I mean that’s absolutely CRAZY. Star Wars has been a constant part of my life for almost ten years now and there’s only a few things meaning that much to me. I absolutely completely fell in love with this galaxy far far away and the fact that it means as much to others as it does to me warms my heart everyday. I feel like the luckiest person alive that they still release new stuff constantly, introducing new characters, powers and villains to this story and it somehow never gets boring. They managed to blow my mind beyond my expectations during these past ten years, so i am utterly confident that this will happen in a few minutes again.

I remember walking out of the cinema on christmas eve 2017 feeling like a complete dead emotional mess after seeing the last jedi and immediately turning on the music on my phone. I clicked on the song “hard to find” by skillet which i heard a few times before but never really paying attention to the lyrics. this song, guys, made me feel being hit by a train again. Wow.

ISN’T THIS JUST THE FUCKIN PERFECT REYLO SONG?? It even has the “kill the past” line by Ben integrated, and HOPE and LOVE and LIGHT and DARK.

I don’t even know where to start describing how well this song goes with Kylo Rens journey falling for a scavenger from jakku. It’s just beautiful.

They really symbolize the true balance of the force. Light and Dark. Meant to hate each other, destroy each other. But somehow these two can’t do that. They’re driven towards each other in an emotional journey , developing believe, understanding and compassion for each other. Ben would rather kill his master who has been his life for a very long time than his “enemy” whome he knows only for a few days. Rey saw the conflict in him the moment she looked in his eyes for the first time, believed that there’s still something good inside of him, literally shipping herself to him because she knew he could turn abandoning her training with his uncle. And remember how angry rey was when she found out that luke tried to kill him shortly before? Not to mention the fact that they hold hands while sharing their knowledge in the force and seeing visions of each other’s future? This is true balance and no matter how Rey and Ben will end up in this movie, there will be balance in the end.

and most importantly:

Star Wars is about hope

Don’t let that hope be destroyed by anyone. It’s our holiest state and if you truly believe in it no one can take it from you.

I don’t think anything can prepare me for what will happen and idk if that’s really a bad thing but i guess i just have to live through my emotional death now.

i will see you on the other side. xxx

#IT’S FUCKING HAPPENING NOW GUYS AHHHHHHHH #0 DAYS #I HOPE I CAN CRY #star wars #the rise of skywalker #kylo ren #reylo #tros #ben solo #rey #adam driver #daisy ridley #bendemption #tros countdown #music rec #skillet #hard to find #skillet hard to find #reylo fam #tlj #the last jedi #tfa #the force awakens #skywalker saga #poe dameron #john boyega #finn #bb8 #oscar isaac

[gyroshrike]

To everyone who saw the Kalematsuba Call-Out Post

I’m not sure where to start, and my chest is getting kind of tight just trying to plan it in my head, so I’m just gonna try and start saying words and hope it comes together in the end.

Now, I’m absolutely not well known on this site, so you really have no reason to listen to me, but all I can do is speak from the heart and those of you who read this will have to decide whether what I say is worth anything.

Also, I’m not here to show you proof of anything. I can only share my opinions of and my experience with Kale and of these events in a way that I hope resonates with people who aren’t sure how to feel or who maybe jumped too quickly when faced with a call-out post.

I’ve been following Kalematsuba for two years, since he first made his current blog. Since then, this is the first I have ever been confronted with the idea that Kale has the past he does. And I know that’s the cue for a lot of you to claim he’s been keeping it a secret, but what I mean is, is that since I followed Kale I have seen nothing that alludes to him drawing anything other than wonderful, enjoyable, safe content and being anything other than a genuine, trustworthy human being.

I pride myself on having a pretty good bullshit detector and judge of character. When I meet someone, people who usually turn out to be negative or bad people I don’t want to associate with, I usually feel the vibes instantly. I listen to what people say, how they say things. I listen for those same vibes. Kale has never, EVER, not once, given me those vibes. I have never felt uncomfortable talking with him one on one, in a group setting, or as part of his audience.

Now, this not a post debating on whether or not what Kale did was wrong. I’m not here for that. Sexualizing children and child-like characters is bad. (I’m also not here to argue how ethical it is to age up child characters for the purpose of sexualizing them because that’s a whole other can of worms.)

Kale fully acknowledges what he did. When the news broke out in the personal discord channel he mods for his followers he admitted immediately to anyone who didn’t already know the situation:

“for the sake of transparency, I DID used to draw femboy art and "shota" like characters..but it was never about drawing "cp" it was so i could cope with being an effeminate boy..and then people sarted commissioning me for that type of work and it got way grosser than i ever intended it to”

For people who are construing was Kale said in a post he made earlier, then deleted, it wasn’t about sexualizing children in order to cope with dysphoria. That was not what he meant. He was referring to drawing effeminate boys, “effeminate boy” being how Kale felt at the time. It wasn’t about an attraction to the characters he drew. He saw himself in his art. These effeminate boys were representation of him to varying degrees. Unfortunately, what happened is this expressed itself using a very shota style and characters that were originally created to be underage.

That being said, Kale himself admits that it got out of hand. He is not denying he did something bad. He’s not denying the unhealthiness of the situation.

A follower who experienced this with Kale also added this about the people who would commission artwork from Kale:

[ALL SCREENCAPS ARE STAMPED WITH HST TIME ZONE]

“Kale was groomed into their incredibly posessive circle he tried to escape and they threatened to hurt him [and] eventually they finally lost interest”

Kale said nothing of this and did not ask to be defended. This was said unprompted. This is not meant to excuse Kale, but to perhaps give a little bit more insight into the context of the situation. He talks about it fully here.

All of the screencaps are from Kale’s discord, which was the first discord I ever joined and Kale always made it very clear that it was a safe place and had little tolerance for bullshit or anything that made any of his followers feel unsafe. Kale’s discord is now the standard I hold other discord channels to. They need to be safe, healthy, supportive places.

“I've been dealing with an actual dangerous procontact pedophile, but tumblr goes after the savior who rescued me”

“heres the thing of it. i have been a victim of pedophiles. these people are sick and horrible. YOU kale are no pedophile. i get a vibe from those sickos but you make me feel okay, your aura is safety. YOU ARE A WONDERFUL PERSON WITH A HUGE HEART whome i respect and care about, as i do everyone i know. i will support you 100% and thats that”

“Coming out of the woodwork here to just say: Nobody likes who they were 5 years ago, you know who I was 5 years ago? A 14 year old girl who shipped my male classmates for the sake of seeing "hot Yaoi" I made and laughed at rape jokes, I contributed to the "women suck" stereotypes put out by a bunch of teenage boys

Four years ago I pushed away friends I loved dearly for the sake of saving face with a "good artist" I admired, I regret it immensely, but my mindset from 4 years ago was different from what it is now. I used to judge who I become friends with based on their artistic ability alone

Three years ago I made a post that got really popular about the "jock/nerd soulmates" trope, I was the originater and romanticized an abusive trope bc I thought it was a good idea, I was 16, now I realize what a mistake that was and I've learned the error of my ways

TL;DR: Tumblr fucking sucks, it's a toxic place, and people will jump at any thread of drama they possibly can if it means they can unravel someone being successful in a way they can only dream of being

Kale, whether you were into shouta art or not doesn't matter, what matters is that you've moved past it, you're done with it, that's not the person you are now and you've grown as a person Your past mistakes do not define you and what you've accomplished, the things you've learned do.What you've made here, all the art, your own community, your freaking comic that a lot of people are onboard with, that's what's amazing and incredible and you should be proud of itYou are better than this, you are better than who you were 5 years ago, and if these holier-than-thou internet teenagers can't even try to understand that people can change, then they don't matter. They're not worth your time, your tears, or your work”

These screencaps are just from today. These don’t even begin to cover the time and time again that people have found support and comfort and a healthy environment in Kale’s discord from many a number of things not limited to: mental illness, abuse, traumatic experiences, suicide, and even gentler more mundane things like life and art advice.

--

Another point I would like to make about the validity of Kale’s character. In the call-out post posted today (August 21st, 2017), all OP does is link to their previously made call-out post (August 21st, 2015). There is no added material, no new art, nothing, to attest to any continued behavior or art that could reflect negatively on Kale. Which to me, implies that Kale has so soundly changed as a person and what he features in his art, that OP didn’t have anything else to say about him. Mind you, the original post is 2 years old and Kale shut down his pixiv and patreon years ago.

Kale himself said that:

“i literally havent drawn an ounce of that stuff in 4 years”

OP is not bringing anything new to the table. Nothing has changed from 2015 to 2017.

And if anyone receives hate mail from someone claiming to be a supporter of Kale, they are not from Kale’s inner circle and did not get is permission to do so. We within the personal discord agree that this situation will be met only with calmness and positive support for Kale. Anyone attacking Call-Out OP or their supporters is acting on their own or is a fake with the intention of further defaming Kale.

WHY I IMPLORE YOU TO KEEP SUPPORTING KALE

He is creating 1989nk to for trans and nb youth like him, who, from dysphoria and a lack of representation, may will seek out media or express themselves in ways that are unsafe or unhealthy.

He does not want what he experienced to happen to other trans and nb youth. That’s why 1989nk has such obvious trans colors on the front. He wants potential trans readers to see it, read it, and feel validated, safe, and represented.

I truly believe anyone who really looks into Kale’s current work, how he feels for 1989nk, the heart and soul he’s put into it, would see the kind of person he is.

Look, when I’m with my friends, I’ll be the first person to lean over and say something is problematic, makes me uncomfortable, or might be unhealthy. Anyone who knows me well can tell you that I never, ever stick my nose into tumblr discourse. So, if I’m sitting here addressing you all like this, it’s because I wholeheartedly believe in this person with everything I have.

I believe in Kale. I trust Kale. I wouldn’t follow him or support his work if I didn’t.

But then again, you have no reason to trust me. You may have to look and decide for yourself.

#kalematsuba #kalechippu #discourse #misinformation correction #sweethearts of 1989 #putting this is that tag #because the original call out post was posted in it #okay to reblog #if this made you think or reconsider AT ALL #please reblog #especially if you reblogged the call out post #navi notes #suicide mention #abuse mention #long post