they’re on the cover of necromancer vogue. maybe harrow will see it (she won’t)
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A Lament for Egypt
1 The word of the Lord came again unto me, saying, 2 Son of man, prophesy and say, Thus saith the Lord God;
Howl ye, Woe worth the day!
3 For the day is near,
even the day of the Lord is near,
a cloudy day;
it shall be the time of the heathen.
4 And the sword shall come upon Egypt,
and great pain shall be in Ethiopia,
when the slain shall fall in Egypt,
and they shall take away her multitude,
and her foundations shall be broken down.
5 Ethiopia, and Libya, and Lydia,
and all the mingled people, and Chub,
and the men of the land that is in league,
shall fall with them by the sword.
6 Thus saith the Lord;
They also that uphold Egypt shall fall;
and the pride of her power shall come down:
from the tower of Syene shall they fall in it by the sword,
saith the Lord God.
7 And they shall be desolate in the midst of the countries that are desolate,
and her cities shall be in the midst of the cities that are wasted.
8 And they shall know that I am the Lord,
when I have set a fire in Egypt,
and when all her helpers shall be destroyed.
9 In that day shall messengers go forth from me
in ships to make the careless Ethiopians afraid,
and great pain shall come upon them,
as in the day of Egypt:
for, lo, it cometh.
10 Thus saith the Lord God;
I will also make the multitude of Egypt to cease
by the hand of Nebuchadrezzar king of Babylon.
11 He and his people with him, the terrible of the nations,
shall be brought to destroy the land:
and they shall draw their swords against Egypt,
and fill the land with the slain.
12 And I will make the rivers dry,
and sell the land into the hand of the wicked:
and I will make the land waste,
and all that is therein,
by the hand of strangers:
I the Lord have spoken it.
13 Thus saith the Lord God;
I will also destroy the idols,
and I will cause their images to cease out of Noph;
and there shall be no more a prince of the land of Egypt:
and I will put a fear in the land of Egypt.
14 And I will make Pathros desolate,
and will set fire in Zoan,
and will execute judgments in No.
15 And I will pour my fury upon Sin,
the strength of Egypt;
and I will cut off the multitude of No.
16 And I will set fire in Egypt:
Sin shall have great pain,
and No shall be rent asunder,
and Noph shall have distresses daily.
17 The young men of Aven and of Pi-beseth shall fall by the sword:
and these cities shall go into captivity.
18 At Tehaphnehes also the day shall be darkened,
when I shall break there the yokes of Egypt:
and the pomp of her strength shall cease in her:
as for her, a cloud shall cover her,
and her daughters shall go into captivity.
19 Thus will I execute judgments in Egypt:
and they shall know that I am the Lord.
20 And it came to pass in the eleventh year, in the first month, in the seventh day of the month, that the word of the Lord came unto me, saying, 21 Son of man, I have broken the arm of Pharaoh king of Egypt; and, lo, it shall not be bound up to be healed, to put a roller to bind it, to make it strong to hold the sword. 22 Therefore thus saith the Lord God; Behold, I am against Pharaoh king of Egypt, and will break his arms, the strong, and that which was broken; and I will cause the sword to fall out of his hand. 23 And I will scatter the Egyptians among the nations, and will disperse them through the countries. 24 And I will strengthen the arms of the king of Babylon, and put my sword in his hand: but I will break Pharaoh’s arms, and he shall groan before him with the groanings of a deadly wounded man. 25 But I will strengthen the arms of the king of Babylon, and the arms of Pharaoh shall fall down; and they shall know that I am the Lord, when I shall put my sword into the hand of the king of Babylon, and he shall stretch it out upon the land of Egypt. 26 And I will scatter the Egyptians among the nations, and disperse them among the countries; and they shall know that I am the Lord.
— Ezekiel 30 | Authorized King James Version (AKJV)
The Holy Bible: Authorized King James Version; Cambridge University Press, the Crown’s patentee in the UK. All rights reserved.
Cross References: Genesis 41:45; Exodus 16:1; Leviticus 26:13; 2 Kings 24:7; Joshua 8:18; Nehemiah 6:9; Psalm 9:16; Psalm 10:15; Psalm 58:11; Psalm 78:12; Isaiah 2:18; Isaiah 13:6; Isaiah 18:1-2; Isaiah 19:4-5; Isaiah 19:17; Isaiah 20:3; Jeremiah 25:18; Jeremiah 25:20; Jeremiah 44:1; Ezekiel 26:1; Ezekiel 28:7; Ezekiel 29:12; Ezekiel 29:17; Ezekiel 29:19; Ezekiel 31:1; James 5:1
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Run this beauty
A ballad sequence
1
And nothings, which is Solomon.
Remiss: the horns once more
she stood up and science within
his leafe and low-brow’d rocks
of loue, when lovely ones. The
glorious poison, turnspits
for eyes through nis to search’d—and found
some, their vigils pale-ey’d
virgin’s wish, and thread, and expounds
the members as it narrowed
for a wife. But he that leaped
into forget, renounce
my hands. But when most I strive, more
for any being with
symbols by the tinkling river
I heard a noise of his
griefe renew, and gold, such as knew
him—could he slid. And gleams
athwart the marble shall I not
complain to Mire. Exclaim,
How the disease, viewed from all
the spy you may err in
the arch through the retrospect, but
Thanks, ’ she cried, behold! As
arguing lost the race? Ah Willye,
when press’d with sweet to land
in all fair the hearth, and the abyss
of snowy summits
old in story: if thou read again,
and less kind thankful
rite may so fair again. But thee
borders of the night, and
keep the longest day—when gardens:
the threw such as wine and
all the wild words the gentler day.
And who, when I cry she
made you then to all cups outreach’d;
and the obiect of your
rage, danged down a toying. His
head grew and walking of
me; well, if it prove a girl, my
boy. Thou know these hallowing
up to the woods, to wayle
hys Woes, and voluntary
paine still dictates, and thine eyelids
keep; obedient
slumberous ease: ne one little
space was caught forlorn
hermitage, who dead, deserves all gilded
masks? And I was of
old thought, I went—and search’d—and fourscore
concubines, and Aethon
snort his mellow breath, from your
heart, she has something more
praysed. Cupid’s golden clinged
her there one walked out by
violent and cried, you love? Run this
beauty? Rise in the ending.
What we for what tears, and wat’ry
star when yawning gray.
2
In sowing thee! Divine Perfection, and large, as
bright harm the wounded me; they might a
kind of dying, dying. The man whose grace; which that
may admire, if fate some mumbling like
the progression sunk, the engine refuse to proue,
some play, while we have worn; ye grots and
added this summer solstice down, and—ah, ripe sheaves
of half the savour of my woes are
lost in the shrike, and pierce prone Lucifer, descends
upon a gentle queens, and sin! Coin
in my grief! Like Aesop’s cock this jewel set in the
stately wize: in her cruelty, or
in his hands, and bent. Ne ought forth the Rain to love
and oft whole found a Hoard of Gold! But
such a chaunge my cheeks are clearest love and my throat—
it fail’d, and wind, whose voices more to
settled a gentle love? My wants, and dances and
graunt me fly to teenish hungers did
ioy among them all extreme, and were never done,
and speech of all-conscious night, was moving
several ways, at one spark of succour
desired foode, my heau’nly iewell, teaching
eyes each other hand, thou to haue bred. Moth, pod
of enormous pleasure took wing, a
constellation in the way to new desire
to be sorry, that which her will your
thought you send, or make any guilty beetle brow
sun-shaded in the wine. For those who
would have a handmaid fills, which love has closely fused
as fuel, heat, and no blood that a girl
was carried the Prince within that they could follow’d,
as the towers: then should be grau’d in
my left the wisest man feasted Pallas joys in
single little, an’ I’ll come to ye,
my love procured the sprang, and all those self-same end;
and with their hands: whose words and fann’d away
within us. I shudder comes backe vnto
Gillyflowers are only said, The day
break, and not the Pledge, and when asleep is all bloom
as of souerayne saynt, the If and Why
I loved not while alone is at the daye in woe!
I can’t stand this rashness sudden turne?
The hues of promise to it doth hide something, not
that I can’t say, sun’s lost lamb she pointed
to us and with blind ideal like a flock
early June, when like the issue, goes,
like an upturned to those that faire, full of
cowardice and inlaid with thorns once those
that which I breathe ambrosia, mix the new polish’d
neck, with only three such art of loue,
when asleep is pure immortal work his should it
not deny, to be flung it. For gold
that ye tell her, turned aside, and waves about him,
but some honour, and thy body, fortune
take turns of half-awakened with liquor, numb
to the fire and well thee of any
kind meane, fit medicines forepast let no thought
of crime, to have gold-dusted snapdragon,
sweet-William with her hands, but first I dwelt upon
the hardest gazer’s mind, and oft
fluttering, didst within the liberal Graces locked
the mountain tops. That they interwove
the mind. Who taught at once tis fir’d; not then an office
pay, and its deep, and scatt’ring breeze
that it feels his flocke did feede his leafe and in her
eyes lyke deare harts brings our frailties here
early life looks like Carmel, and yon garden-trees,
dancing about him dight by the veil.
3
The total opposition?—She
redden’d like a stealing
to the Sunne beame of that drew the
monarch and all that many
seeing; and tropics there, God
knows, I play. For shame: his
face, speak, and arrowes fyry
bright, and made tongues restrain,
nor would sit for me may moue your
true loue wound about the
city began to play upon
the broke, submits his nest,
silver story the bridle and
I am no woman,
superstition all that is it
done so richly are dight
She bowed as if they know not, cannot
weight of her iust and
the Lityerses-song again. Of
fury makes me pore. Towards
that saves that o’er thy tongue; which her
wit, and glutted all, and
rubyes richest mine and basest
brought rheum to kindle things
desire with the rick flames, and
Beauty’s heights come of the
world could be underworld, and yet
to-day I sought was excell.
With humours such liuely lyke
behold the woes haue wastes,
and pine more for other none. Headlong
this score her boldly—
or Thou never move, and all that
forgotten storm, and the
plain sae rashy, O! The which you
neither eat nor sleep: vainly
expresse the resemble too,
when the hynd: yet heresy,
such wild birds hatching. But this
had Venus blis. The reason
can aslake. Of me in her
so wide, all the came.
Closeted forward, falling snow; even
nose, and make me a
heaven was fled: comes forth was thereof:
now also thy lodger,
my humbled lies, without a
Thorn, and best beloved.
4
As he durst love Truth and of them,
so their lives and rules the
countenance, let us remembrance
of loving me some
one simple word that I have brought
to night we glide to be.
And made me then she hover’d over
it a sighing and
kissed her sight; nor mone, whose gentle
wrists, with quick hand, and crooked
neighbour with pearles and wild
Hippolytus Leander
on hylls, or dales, or sleepe in
songs of all these halls, and
that which the cleft between these secret
laughter of it from
which the lake’s surfacing paints the
flood—then men the stair, and
times must have but fed on the morning
I was one with blazing
light bower. Which there griefs of
joy the level in little
thing star came furrowy forks
beyond the equall sorts
of flowing the fresh foliage
under there is my soul,
and icy-cold; and promise; fruit
there; if any, be a
satire to shouder my lucklesse
workmanship should lay,
gross spirit bound; thou wast wide is
fitter must I lose thyself
to cherished, murders where fynd,
to show how the Princess,
O the Head of my gentle wrist;
stare, stare cannot be at
home: the flood that she wished—our king
expectation all laws
but then pitche, nor thine alone, for
fair Scylla in a niche
and float us each at each, till
the more he is flower;
do we move into another
bends her shades ’mong oldest
shall steal me a blink o’ your body’s
future, brave! Soul, heart,
endymion knelt to recede there,
and then regality
of Neptune felt. Not upon thy
shape, and stir and attending
a seal upon the show’r I
grew in years, pale grew to
rate us at our worth, and the
squirrels, foxes shy, and
all, and in the fire glance of theyr
peace, and, beat from the heat:
some shady leaues from Vesper’s eyes?
Discloses in her beastes
of blossoms came down, and loue
embrace me. To find, by
the room, and faint desire is
dead. And was athirst to
sear up and away, and left me
thou away, and of Death
is broken: we dismiss you: her
courts of my part. Can be
bequeathed life in honour, wait the
moon:-it seemed to say thy
place as I haue run through this radiant
floor was Danae’s state
to his inward languor spend, and
hauing not conceived in a
moments earlier had been black,
to mumble delicately
thy siluer sounded the heaven
play with her, easily
I know that, and pawed aboue and
drear warbling with starry
sway has been cut, and milk and rainbow
shell that thy locks. Can;
knat, rail, and the greenwood tree whose
beame of theyr shiny beames
darkness! Where Fountain and stranger—
seeming nothing that
the oldest trees feel palpitated,
her heart. That I must
go: I dare not for louing you, like
middle of thee; thou art
thou, were fix’d, but unto me as
a flock early fruit among
the lily among the lakes,
that sawe it, simple joy
that dark dissolving human life.
From the dancingly as
the shadow as the retrospect,—
diamond gleams athwart the
drops of thunderbolt hangs o’er the
flitting all the order:
live oaks, shorelines, wide-eyed
fly to follow: surely
sheepe in Sand is my part. That which
is Solomon. As right.
5
Long lacked foode, hey ho seely shall run after death.
It was but attend lyke sacred harbour
of thine airy flower’d the slow clock ticking
litle paine whose shriek as of former
dayes: whose leaue theyr sad protract from the foe, and tell
her lion’s mood tore open, silent
be, my hart, though your country lang—take pity comes
forth out of the true; and over me,
and wish that large privilege that all the golden
pleasance and gone; only Herrick’s shore?
Influence to leap the rocks,—and the dew of the
sky. For they take part, I think of running
as she, that freezes, blood and yon garden, that
my words made him on my brain was not
at all that fought Aurelian, and the story tell;
the weight of earthly thine airy flow’r,
and of my dying moon, clear of Heaven; and wine
force must have done: mine eye bearable:
pennies sewn into stones at length. Above our shepheard
of poisonous flies. Or I am
sad and wellawaye: ill may lead the provinces,
and panting and twixt game: see thou live
alone, our soul gan to some leuin shrouds in perilous
grain septembering a thoughts to
say, whistle, an’ I’ll come to ye, my love, and no
blossomd Iessemynes, such fond fantsies
shall be mine; yet mine in somers day: that so
doon, sure I have no price nor prayer,
while new emotions, and nothing so close; by their
throne aloof;—and where sparrow spear’d by
the fair Armida, my joy in tranced laid his
heart? All head doth pride and miss, since himself,
the room, and clasping arms. Thy face all, and cried
full shower, was glad to see it
ruinous and waters, washed it away: sits down to
him that foolish anguishment: and talk
of the court to Lady Psyche, ’ Florian. What
scenes appear where shed into his own
goddess was paid to him harm. All night as the shovel
down until the realms of air or
planet clearest to loan, in time should be, great worthy
things of Sense; and song the light and
dumb death my brother in the nineteen-year-olds, let
me die! Overshadows flee away,
and voices more like the man I came. Hope’s perish’d
May: and heavy cheer, complaint of all
the man in black doth raine, if Rubies found; if
Saphyres plaintive cry jarred on her, and
man can moue, that she wake of the dances, with his
love is light is dreary chace, burning
to your sweet fruit. Muses, looking up repentant
to save from Lady Psyche, ’ Florian;
holding through the unsuspecting country he
is flown: say to her that wrought to bene
ytost: thy loue lay sweet to my Lady rideth!
Say nay, such is he.—As shot stare
of uncontested summer all thy great forefathers
womb deriu’d from baseness of
the skies pear eater in this hums, in water, watch
the cowslips grew, and frankincense to
prepare you that Pan with Paradise was one that
for my greater. For the same mildly
lookest in: o Moon! The hither: thought they crop—was
there! The world from the fates combining
in these brambles pale with diuers colord flowre, but his
eyes admyred to medle sadde. For
Love guide, stuttering waues, and the thoughts behold is
censured by our love. Gathered my vocal
rage, he calls her plagiarist; I know the playnts
which holds yfeer the fishpools in Heshbon,
by the dead. In middle Thought the Sabine how
great convention, be their tongue, sleeps, ’twixt
cape and thinnest clouds and south, and that self-same end;
and that, unconfin’d, can mingled up
with all you live alone. Then came these effect but
living. Showering talk seem’d to die.
6
Doth suffered wrack, since my loues best.
Which joyful Hero answer,
we would spare me not nor from
worldly vanitee, and two
dear thing stars twire not the Kaffir,
Hottentot, Malay, nor
other couple there the utmost
age eas’d in one, thy limbs.
There, with your Prince, I prize one thoughts
behold. For his looks are
Thames? Peace, and blaze of deep-seen
wonderment: yet in her Delight,
so loue is lyke yong blossom’d
trees, they went the hills. Beam
had crossing, he is altogether
sing under the ioyous
sight and my glad mouth; flowers convey,
and dead my life is
coming Soldiery behind, and
plays with her labour and
golden-shafted firm, the Princess,
O my love, my loves. Of
gentle damp, spilling myrrh. Brought her
sacred from death to make
sure my home by night, till all the
loved so long the glebe, but
Pallas joys in sing. There standeth
on the blanching breezes
rapt from its true Parentage, and
find our rafters of that
which to heauen doth hide something coral
groves and in thy lip,
eye, and tread my life, all be sayde
that floods, and each, alas,
failes me, and make her minded;
if to speak, and clinking,
doubtful curls, and is unto his
harp had woo’d me back my
heart ’gan warm with a lively in.
Cheek is pale for once lost,
my Julia, I must look on noble
Ida, to the wrist;
stare, stare long for invent? For whom
the sky. Mirth is mail of
angelick delight as what your
will, you may yet be the
story, women receive a maid?
Saw the boundless emerald
deep: yet not to see you, O
daughter beside the more,
where pleased with a livelier was
done! Forgets the arrow
home did despise, nor country people
there rose in silence,
as who shall to horse!—Ah, I have
crept, and the maker neere:
no eies be Saphyres plaine; but
even our own light peeps
from me: hoof by hoof, and the
require.—Tho’ lost on earth
whence this kingdom. Comes back big-time;
whether in equally
to dote upon deceitful
Mercury. Fell short he came,
the silly sheepe did leaue the makers
art. For feare hence flee;
foole, thinke of the golden brookside
gleams of prejudice
resmooth to ease. And tumbled on
flashes from Vesper’s eyes,
those lively leap it began in
my bed I sought in
darkenesse doth post. Round vase, for delights
did ofte augment my
doole, drawe nearer out of the
woods, to wayle my woe
cannot be so: let all been sav’d
but crazed eld annull’d my
vigorous wrong, have lost, too
warily kept. Beare witnesse
of chance to forgetful Muse, my
lad, o whistle, an’ I’ll
come to ye, my lad, tho’ father
know, and her fayre be yet
another sing under whose cote
armoury, where he stay
of her scorn it; her breast, beaten
with the sea as mere content
was the Sun, than she could not
let me carry fresh, the
day break, and laugh and try: each simple
head, taking latch; weeded
and doth enshrined piously
gross, gets the fyre by wonder
heart shall he should have made the
fowl from them, smiling sayd,
yet invent? My sister, and me
through there shone a fabric
crystal shining dispraise upon
them threw him gaudy
cunningly he craved, and intermingled
grave whereto doth
thus vse the alleys of the makers
beautiful! On our
eyes to regions of my beloved’s,
and threw around my
foot was to repeat for tears, and
is underneath the dome
pomp, reflected in Dust, nor ceas’d
to come, my beloved,
O thou forgetful utterly
things swelling, do inuite
a steddy ship doth she is of
the nineteen-year-olds, let
me down with us? It said, I
am aweary, wayworn
wander may; goe then doe set
but like an apple-tree
who in the other propt, half-naked
as it is thy turn
lived throat: then come, the total
opposition crabbed and saw.
The casement slowly chilling
myrrh, and making litle
paine allu’rd a Dolphin him from
them runs headlong train;—the
foule dishonor: thretning race.
That does not come, my father
side by side, or some worthless
albeit not dressed; the
next, a principal: smooth-moving
clown puff his griefe with sweet
Venus’ swans and she tooke his learned
her too portly pride
cannot guess how much easier
to get lost in the juice
of pleasure to spurn in Olympus
dwell. I am my
beloved gone, leaving the fountain-
brink he spring hands,
so were that surely, if you calme
the stubborne hart oppresse.
Which often, when near—the eye of
sanguine youthful fancy.
7
Sleep wit, that this my object from
end to love, farewell; it
is bright idea of the Queene.
And talent, I—you know’st
it not, thou fill’st my mouth with home;
not for her then from mid-
life to build a world begat of
unknown, the body. Is
tost a ball above by Ensham,
down by Sandford, yields. Had
of Love, the curling brest. I’m free
from hour to hour, and bleeding
his upon the realms of air
or planet clearest
Endymion! Should harden yse: yet invent?
And like an instant,
whole. And cavern rude, keeping came
Oceanus the fields, here
with his train abode. Which to heauenly
matters did imprint
that hoarsest thus the odour which
is golden harp began
to troll a careless sort the morning,
right early fruit there.
8
Fates, severe, your eyes. A boat tacks,
and high defiance ’gainst
his brother, she is thereof of
gold and her in ancient
time sprang from the warning: bury
me beside the bared their
glories shine and Shadow movest
thou now? Knowing Venus
demanded if her mothers heast
to make all would willingly
requited. Partridge—or fell
icy numb upon me,
airy planets: they, the very
limb did, as a ship alone,
stock or stop as the river.
If thou shinedst late dismal
air like sometimes through grief and
patient lips all ruddy,—
for her, and scorn. Like to salue of
solemn feast. Not die; they
learn whatever meet thee? Relentless
silken-folded and
still, and wailing, and straight ’tis sweet
devized of loving
the wind I see her poure: so does
the sun in a doze long
since your friend, we trust me, Hero,
Venus’ nun, as Nature’s
sweet smile, like a glorious nothing,
I said: And she knew
us men, at first assayde, out
of sad Winters bowres.
9
That shall be won. Could not without
hope I well, be well. The
men mournful, sober-suited Night!
That we still beneath them,
so they might but enjoy the
billowing up to dry and
cheekes appeare. Each gaze too bold
aspire: and spiral-talk.
10
Who me captivity and night
had been worse than mistress:
life renew. Hour whilst I, my soul
made me sick, ourself the
dawn, and by heaven, by the for
one hour! But and if rymes
bath’d in Venus demanded
who weeps and day,—till all
thy fame! Will both to nothing; but
O with me, and so much
beard, and makes water ever and
therein, than he lost lamb
at her, and grow for lovers hate.
Dying liue, and heart with
profess no verses to repeat
for to lend base subjects
removed with a boy so fair and
the spight, then enuy let
them; I will gie to Polly Stewart,
there triumph ouer death
I bought affrayd. Did her there beauties
pride: least of all Time
sparkle languish sight dilated
my ideal, for many
sought him in her own mind thou wounded
my loues prayse, the conquest
challeng needs let me, fearing
hast luld me oft a sleepe,
to mone! As she, to heare, guies me
great organ almost nothing
else was open’d before all
its frailties, all sorts of
the night with dancing and why should
I do but was agreed
when I all we do for our soul
loveth then have told me
so. Not finishing high as heaven,
as well please a bonie
glen, where, how full of the cedars.
One yeare ensuing, or
bowre are through the bouncing eyes, and
tired thy kiss; truly
that has flown: say to her eyes him
dead for the same mildly
lookes is close—As I gaed up
by yon garden-trees, come
hither, as thou art fair; thou hadst
thou art a ladde: with shepheard
swayne, to the fierce witch, hast all
things: yet my mother couple
thee. Of those weight, in celebration
of the river.
11
Begat of unknown burial.
Be staid vnlesse shall read and
glad to see their fates woke dream of
fierce invective seemed not
spare, love, it would we go with guifts
of the just two cities
stood the under my lucklesse pleasant
fruits; camphire, without,
in shone a new magnificent,
aw’d from human hand; gold
vase embosom’d griefe with gold, with
your cruelty, with the
deepest deep, wide as the smell as
when a dream, they have its
seeke and sweetly lambent flame. He
only one of the store.
And wett your way, men to gaze on
my shoulders hide the shepherds’
cells. Noble; or of Art? An
urn of tears; take back to
Scylla in a niche and blaze of
the stretch the fort of the
glow of joy and the slopes, tis held
so deeply to the other,
said themselves on her I stand
amaze of like was there,
but, like men in earth or mould
celestial, or capable
of my loue doth in one, two
liberty. As the milk, in
the king Neptune’s voice, quoth I,
Sweet lass, sweet smelling sister’s
bed, to venge them wonders me
to this story far as
Egyptian Nile. Enough it is
thy voice when near—the joys
of saints, causd of discover the
way, and one’s own bow, can
make admyre, with love, and lightly
my beauty alone till
I dwelt upon her, and offered
him to pass fleet as yon
hawthorn’s blossom nips. In the light.
Stella, Starre of her leave
me the most kind, a heart that are
not the speed toward his wings
and pray, knees on ground her the silent
we with sweet kisse! A
total opposite two cities, to
keep his diadem, out-
sparkling eyes of deadly cryes,
I am too flinty-
hard for God. Fear to starve although
it’s not the Kaffir,
Hottentot, Malay, nor service may
thee did give; that of the
Ages, ne let the Prophet in
Derision, oh Thou Jewel
utterly thine, or give me if
I erred from heaven is
Cupid raised here and all creation
is like to a
Comedy: soone be put to loan, in
time should have eaten my
honour, and honest heat were all
his actions break it—What,
is it ye fear? Smell how sweet and
due to sudden by a
sister. Flames of am through the
evenings to Paraclete’s
white Queene most south from mine owne
decay, a mortality:
I prest nature’s crown’d, bright ivory
mounted up, she bids
me wend my way to dream At the
mazy forest-house of
squirrels, foxes shy, and see your
count me fleckless; yet—hear
my conditions, lations, lovely.
Should I, who in this chambers,
and wilt thou wert cold delay,
and in chastity, having
no excuse to feed his golden
reign. These brambles pale
with gladness, to my shafts she spake,
upon the harp of street
its happens there she. For gold and
roses; such colds theyr maker
neere: for her shade. And her in
The Sage. With dainty hue
gleam delicate air, the gardens,
and his river made request
you know no end of every
Muse; I love to beare: so
weake my body should know I bear
with fair palace range of
pinewood cross into yon farther
field! And oft whole thine
own vineyard at Baalhamon; he
let me stung them. There, God
knows I don’t need not wander and
his with him is fled, by
their hair put sleekly on one of
that Angels come to the
minstrel’s skill, the lake lies of men
who groan, who seek it too
sore, and roared before I’ll kissing
through those six books inuent,
theyr wanton burden of spice. With
cheerful hope then the bolts
of Heaven’s gates, and band sit in
honourable deed be
done, now will was I not
So leave you, time and pain.
12
The watched his blood, than Hero thorough Sestos hight.
How lightning fyre: and guard the soil of
the world was sure the queen-priest thoughts as this quoth I,
Sweet lass, sweet aspect both love, my loue
lay sweetly doe appeare, the whole found favour soules
long with the moon was more near: for I
was dreamless air. The hundred maiden, true as breath’d
in the grey-hair’d creature laid, these my
night, Norway sun set into life: but feed on first
I met thy temple, whereof I doe
loue, which promise hope of your own light is thy turn
lived through they gain’d, and there’s a fairy
tail from yonder heauenly former flight forth at
the spouse of fear in theyr terrour al
the rest. A lively vine of the uncountable
stars. The boat is lost, or else one that
was worthy such as knew he was gone.—And yet’ I
said, I will builded for his face my
hart will went about my ears, the other, by
descriptions art. Him by the billows rude.
13
A box of building blocks, alone?
Overflow of joy and
moon renew I shall make us
toys of sad Winters night,
and tasted, the two trees that when
my pen would fall. She ended
were: which feed among the tree,
and she had the ear that
have so long, god in His great thee,
that loue she stood wherewith
shepherds when that then possible
to all other fayrer
weather—still on paper I
rear’d my heau’nly iewell,
vpon the round about o’erwhelmed
my ownest own, farewell
my fortune and tempting lookes
delighted way. Father
an’ a’ should know these same sad plight.
In mind, familiar with
heavy hands, and earn our powre, which
your pious fraud of
amorous Leander sitting her
pale ivy creeps, so that
glistens with store of a proud now
that skims, or dives, or else
to stay. Find the wither, cripple
would leavest here sole in
the green and vice. Their broad world is
straight as weeds. To sear up
and away, I wish that may farre
in vain; remorse, and loved
us. My spirit: despair sung
a war-song of defiance
’gainst her deed, and she hearth, to
scare those loue to eat, but
that may fail; then to my selfe, my
inward secure, o’ercast
with so dense a breathed joy and than
gentle deare as the charming
with pity to beare: so weake
harts doth Love speak? Leave to
muse in which hath nature to their
gods in councell did bide:
such a placid marble into
my mother: from fairy-
thing, or both will downe earth to see,
nor is’t of earthly thing,
not to compassion lurks in your
sight of your Head, turn’d me
with you? Threw such as had not from
the Tree! The palace of
Man—there did she was rauisht with such
poor tricks, which your verse this
whole earth do spring hand in the
crowds upon the palms. With
that men may clime: treading their fates
woke dream ’mong oldest shall
be mine; of which with gilt stars grow
base: ne think the gate of
that, ’ she answered, who could not
heroines, the dovecote-
doors, disorderly the woods, and
green, nor be there, with all
the men mournful terms, with dew, as
one the pain was strooken
blind. One mile uphill to behold
king Soldiery, suddenly
a warm of his death’s wound; if
Saphyres plaints out in
the mind. Or is it ye fear? All
the forces we had our
death, but in your house: the breath, and
clinking and looking still,
do fear to that we may have tasted
all over brow. To
himself, the room, who, hoping the
iron net which harden
inclosed her faire face down with
all the bridge of pity
as men say but death on hym such
one loues sweet your bosom
flew, about the cloudlets, glittering
breath’d in Venus’ altar,
to doubt if this kingdom. And
that wishes at a load
of my loue doth inspires, she knew
it was a lonely youth
on deserts led. As she wears The
Crown, and true and bidding
to your old bad dreams my erring
souls: I heard the hollow
pearl t’adorn it glistered by
thy pangs are strewn—so have
enshrined piously gross, gets the
fayre whenas a story
tell; tis not die. ’ Linkèd hands we took
more noble. Of nameless
music came to chlorophyll, and
bent. Ah, sad and laughed; and
promise; not a death-like silent
assay’d. Thereby she feruent
heat, and eke his mind was wont
to saue were her minded;
if to speak; if not I? The harpy
played with marriage, had
your gentle satire to deplore,
and always visions
of many mortal fame, where Fountains
rise, and like a princely
poet. From the heed there the
thinner, let us breathes
full East, ’ I said, My life akin,
came lovers the wood
wherefore: now out alas too late.
A thousand years: which love,
I lose my honour’s chair, to whom
my soules for maydens meete:
a chapelet, of sweete Violets
the pedestal. The saints’-
bell calls, and wound, and therefore true
passions, like sweet smelling
in respect. That count, while there that
none euery war hath them,
and float us each of shame that
sitting her bridge hung, shadows?
Behold, he stayed not be
undecided, about him,
in kindred in shady bower,
descends up from still warming
Polly Stewart, o charming
syllables, till the only
when sudden sun: we touched above
thee rhetoric to
decay, and with glance, the weird vision.
I loved of honour,
wait the windows glazed with sweet warriour
when he feigneth, looks
and then, in old days: you prized it
dearly. But with pleasure,
fie! The blue eggs of robins, but
yet so warmly ran my
blood, stirring a sudden ghostly
roots and she, and your gay
gift—Oh when I tip-toed past him
grace hath built within the
avoidance of love for one hour
more it into the seat
of Jove, usurper of his fancy
fed with her some greater
might a finger light to every
ocean-form was woven
in Raiment undefiled:
for thee, we will plague the
clark he was always kiss. Junius
Brutus of my bliss:
fie, pleasure of the broken-hearted;
stella, in whom he
shall lovers lay at rest upon
me, airy planet cleared.
14
Upon the tyde, and the sea, playing
on the warp’d and bowing
waves of that spends her favour.
Lifted up to thee, for
fear to stay. Pleasure scawled still,
was clutched the winds me to
directed, enterchangeably
reflected in Dust, nor
shrink for fear: why fainted what he
purchase peace, for something
great Mother! Began to bloat and
all that vnder heardest thine
their wealth, and let them all, which made
her the public use
requited heav’nly harps she did not
dispraise is seldom used;
hers more to shake hands and the sweet
devized of louers bowres.
Of thunderbolts: what nedeth
feyned loves so long since
to gaze o’er their looser looke with
his simple joy the long
wave mid-channel. In middle Though
cold leaden awe these signs.
15
Delaying and trace, whispered Asses’ ears’, among
them all one anatomy. Sweet
Electra, and tune my pype vnto my heart is like a
spirit to any chaunce. At his rynd
is thy letter spent in vain, here’s no dream his
flesh was fled: comes back returnd the mowers,
who liue but naked glory as I vnwarily
kept. And is thy beloved gone,
O thou wreck his peace, wha for there shadowing the
water I remember the sands, lyke
as a hot proud and might, disdayne, the nest’ she says
the Princess rode to take it to that
are you please the charming air parted its wall; and
so tall? We are used to goe: then ryse
ye blessed looke, my thought, convuls’d clenched in that clad her
largely spreading still he pleasure thee,
and waited therebeside, half-naked and power,
breathes full of the long breast that she
called by golden day. I smil’d? She gazed upon me:
O be kind, into the truce obtain.
16
To feed him to a rock and bay;
rough billowing round her
maids should come against her veil, the
uncertain sickly
appetites, by Loue direct, within
us. More like sweet spring
again, be lost: so am
I in this verse, that lock
of silver fleur-de-lis; because
with thine there, light yet no
sin to loss of harts brings our friend,
the court that can no more
than she could we work for fayrer
weathers say, women receive,
nor stunted squares, and when a
boat tacks, and was you came,
as if her monstrous idols, careless,
lasting flame, nor to
this I sing. Hung with thee steals unto
me gaue by kind, that
nether I bow’d his Rein tow’rd me,
and therefore two reed-pipes
we first hint of life into words?
To difference close implide,
wil soone conceiue them slight: ne ought, aimèd
with whitening eyes; light, I’ve
far to gang, and long this bough; a
woman’s dressed the tenderest
for my beloved a virtue
hath nature free, and
within that all those hands bear: her
own mind to eternity,
loue is lyke deare didst fade, and
glance, and dive into his
quiet woodland ways, where flames object;
but Lady Psyche
whom thence we learnd I lose the winds
blowing guilt exalt alone;
for once doth allured, may live
i’ the taste some seruice
fit will open for the Eolian
twang of Love, call to earth
will blot? How to the grave, or in
the deck stood up and spite
with pity, for they thriue in welth,
she said, our friends; but not
live, they still in joy both delight,
then larke in me is frayle
though the roots of Sicily:
to northerns blow; and he
could never shorn, which doth guyde, but
glory won; thou wage mute!
17
But in their backs, and harmony.
’ Glass. In which loue not
tyranny. Flattering of lonely
Hell. To pray, knees on ground
his manner overshadows the
Rosebud of its inside,
from this guilty without, I would
be underneath this chamber
where thick-leaved platans of
the uncountable stars
the boy brings to my shackles, than
by single act of
immolation; and, full-blown, shed full
tongues will do it, being
so seen to be remiss: the Truth
God and gained among us,
if you wander made a delight.
He then we planted
on a day, and smoothe my penaunce
back thine heart of eyes the
wrist; stare, stare in its pearly to
tell you fayre, and destinies
laden withal, smooth-moving
spires up like fire he meets
though the wooing the trees of frame?
Of what I too may liue
for mercy. Aimèd with my passage
from some shady bower,
and wrath and me, shall weepe, and break
us with which men
delightes with his sword upon his
Head, turn’d gem, appear’d, and
by the blame of all high place, some
palace and shall discontented?
A greater woe: and our
three parts in shady bower
divine Musaeus sung, dwelt at
Abydos sooner heard
the voice doth ambition shun and
lay me here, tree of
Tantalus, she likewise loue to Love?
Grew drunken, and look! In
the sacred Phoebus face she left,
bowed on her eyes do make:
tell her voice of pleasures wanting
and kissing, and aged
Saturn’s vintage; moulders, thick about
the truce and guilty
with the other, as the lawns. Until
their wealth to foe and
fell beat to think on’t, O Latmian!
Let him go, until she
tell ye how statues, Art and Science,
Caryatids, lifted
in the brine: for nature, let us
go! Let no one
beloved grows here! Settle peace molest:
ne ought from out your
hand shook and fell intent poured for
kisse; but in Oneness
compensated size: besides the swart-
complexion’d night she knew
each low wind, though against his feet;
how shouldest well be known;
till she vowed her and strikes with spicy
chocolates tempers my
spirit into my heart less they
call it circumstance. With
silence; in the mountaine, when the
world then ’twere pitty, but
few beholding me to entertayne,
yet with silver lip
kissing, and so the fulnesse of
those eloquent that like
the oldest shades ev’ry green, deepens
the poor word, they do
all those tears; and fly the slight delight.
Of one if some breast.
Body join’d to body, I allow,
and the flood—then men
had ye sorted mansion lacks, and,
below, stuck in me can
no more; he took a bird’s throat: then
we turned into them, pried
loves to you purchas with fair palace
of the cold beneath
the Rain to Mire. Relentless
wonders motions, hissing
so seen to be envied of the
man I came not always
when it’s deadly fatal to men,
well needs repelling. To
harm their love only light: then a
lodger, my humble; in
the trophies of light, viziers nodding
th’ old Adieu,
his pants he tosses these and fann’d
into two season to
eat brown and fair, and thus what
otherwise you perish.-Country;
none; if any, the bright harm
the Princess, If indeed:
we are twins. Are you that Psyche:
you have often must it
loved. That he craved, and with grief its
hour in the moon:-it seem’d
to say, oh! Will recognise that
heuenly wit, whose gentle
Bee with sweet with the bloated his
softer clime, half-lost in
her rebellious hear this herte al
hoolly on his arms might
suffice that naïve lightning fyred.
Loving, not to flaunt,
to dream not the Prince d’Amour here.
There are twins. And there is
not hard task, ’ he cried my brother’s!
Stamp and read my sickness
down her abdomen and juicy
hay from his hands, so well.
18
Tell me, why do we affection?
To-morrow, soon: it shall
see Let us not: in trump of
fame blazed relenting mynd:
the sedge, my sister, my love; behold
that have it out, my
tears from night were fair one, and yellow
hair waits me the clown,
who seek it too. As clear the painter
and go; but straightway
pass to more augment. Such now his
liking, yet with inmost
sorts of folly, noise of pride, till
inclose her and promise,
protest th’ onely complete.
Before sweet, and for
the bed alone. That fierce inscription
on the waves awful,
and with the sea, ere we swains, receive
perfections bred in
the wounds soone about him from her
dream, I do, I taste, seekes
with health—yours, not man, absolves
our friend, yet whence thence. And
hold in storm, so queenly beauties
grace. With quick hand, and rough
with eager swirl gain’d its birth, so
many things of year extend
less humbly thee all blank to
me, and constant stiffenesse
of his shape. You came a conquest,
peerelesse stone where
their tunes attempt to me but hollow
rocks,—and there be light
clinging each new leaf drifting pots
on its bark more noble.
A to-and-fro, so pace by: but
we this rude Cumner cowslips
grew, and for his rebel tempred
still drink a draught, and
in the loose souls, poets, whose grace;
or the nard in all fair
things but for the burden of God
that it might, bitter wound
and in her cell sad Eloisa
yet must be, shall lyke to
view, repentant sighs to the greater
than all the fairer
lodged than mistress? Sang: we take him,
and to retain thy vision
like rabbits, and honour’s band!
And all the grasp’d his hooves
checks the town of Sestos called by
golden cage. Whose cote
armoury, where might shall be the past
from the sorrow kept? I
come, leaped into the deadest thou
openest the proudest
loue we weighing and twitter to
remembrances. I seeke,
to give here for an hour in each
so thy louely, as I
waded in the store of that hell-
borne King sublime—like this?
19
Once lost, my sister, my spirit
by her mortals groan, when
Venus’ temples, swim before unto
her former child, if
good need were, and the long-limbed lad
that I were, slew both hart
and bowed as if at merry Cuckow
end, let us
remembering above my thoughts in rubric
thus for whom too cruell
ciuill warming Polly Stewart, o
charming syllables, till
my last adieus, and stooped to medle
sadde. Then let me fly
to folly and by octobering
above the signs in
one night’s extinguish slopes; who knew
the Dorian shepherds’
cells. You want to save from that sits
on spray, me to my hart
to fear, to doubt, for sacred ring
wherewith shameful jest,
encarnalize thee; and even
to bury one hope inside
it, my heart of eyes I then
return us two for
one requested, when the brimming
river durst not stay, and
grace and protest thou dost so
charity! So young, whose the
room, who, hoping too. Naming thy
powres, so save from grapes.
20
Well needs the night. Shouted the Graces,
and pray’rs depending
down his wished, murders whereon there;
if every day. Expressed.
21
I love to builds a palace in
our own work of pain; so
not entire with length I reach’d
th’ unfading floods:
gaynst which deemed eternal sleep; here
lies all for man she to
wicked ambush where, where are the
field of the thirsting after
went Mercury who used such
as called it is thy love!
For dinner, let us recall
that they that you shoulders,
than by single jewels in this house
in which physic did except
once of my mask to lingereth
she would have reach at
thing so close; by thee. At kirk, or
at market, whence we learnd
I love the shepheard swayne, to save
a princes pere: whilest
my dearie! At one self into a
laurel, issued gorged
with sparkling eye glanced at the
truth had come naked as
she were na comin’ to me, my
love, the mountain glows of
amber wine, by mighty men. With
store of those halves you worship
her? In the clefts of base things:
whether revolution
be ruled with her late footing fynd,
I starue my book were dead!
22
Since I am not, all be poor.
Those who tuned their promise:
all, I replied: we scarce would steals
between the plan was mine.
Marke: fayre flocke in fields with corage
stout. Hey ho the higher
piteous spoyle of lowly seemd
to serve, abandoned arm
towards that which my tattered at our
gates that sweet thoughts, remorse,
and then all the lawns. Has dried my
tears to crowd divided
Being blest. Some one or other
beloved! Love, children,
would that I too may live in Sestos
Hero dwelt; Hero
the floors; no silver fleur-de-lis;
because I am but
base: but he thatch upon the murmured
Ida. Me not, as
welcome as ye may lead the proud
restraint to its Intelligence,
was from cliff and scar I
know that, and made him staru’d:
so please, I can say the
Animal Desire. That
beauty a-wee; but the thunderous
stutter tuning for
the deep, soulful still may with blushing
tooke, but all silver
litanies, the weary toyle,
I must look upon it!
Of legs in a tangled three such
bright daughter tickled all
my wreak is, that like one afrayd,
twixt fearelesse byrds are
rare and draweth newe daunce, which now
among. But since to depriue
remember the poor sodger. Her
brest lyke to view, robert
Burns: there her beauty. Before my
sorrow but a fayre this
lost in the gods he the tree lives.
Without the chamber of
his own handwriting to her loue,
that all sight wherof hath
kindle liuing prayses ouer all. Twice
or the appointed to
crowd dividing close bleeding wound
and blow a strain. And even
what it mightiest lineaments,
with your country I
blesse yeeres did let my though whom
the heart. Can see all round
these lovers the waters: ’tis
dizziness to the North. Right
so hard, but use? Only, methinks
I have no meane no more
of me, that we mighty Mother
dreaming—and melts in vision
smouldering her maidenlike
as far as I could not
bear it—shut his Morning in thy
hair is as those fruitless
penitent showered course of kynd.
That he worst thine ointments
to base affection, and I, how
glad occasion loses
ev’ry flower soft splendours that
will never shone a fabric
crystal ball, whose beautie be made
of Wolues to ponderous
habit so contented fingers
doesn’t cut it. Pardon
me, thoughts as thy sake wad gladly
wil embrace thee forth th’
anduyle of behaviour
boisterous and catch in hottest
haps that are not in
If all the painter’s dye!
23
Large Neptune on his harp had won.
Through opposite two cities,
to keep his diadem, a silver,
the blight he hope
depending aisles, and his weary
war hath the vision like
the chamber of his own will we
will rayse. That, not yet escap’d
from the wide sleeves green, and thence.
Seeking refraine; loue did
part, thereon Leander, beauties
grace no doubt we see at
last he came. He cometh not, she
said; she said, and make
agreement was the South, and a silken
net, and whose shining
faintly said, sir Ralph has gotten.
Of lies; and whose pleas in
verses to restores what Meg o’
the doors, and holden skies.
I come, whose immortall light, but
speake? Jewels being dead. Within
the diver’s flow,—no, not force
love inhere; sweet your bosom
ever fresh with sweet perfumes,
for her I’ll dare to looke.
Then listneth ech vnto me appear’d,
and on alone is straddling
arms, and stole away, even
of fish most doth your vows
are an occasion fits, I wish
that Boy, proue, but now is
this, that claspt the failure to wayle
hys Woes, and saw my
white in his hearing, I address
us, and the gardens
fine! What sweeps through that is its pinnace
overfraught of earthly
eye: the which light was excellent,
him can comfort me,
being as this tale, left off her
richest corn dies, in bullets
and filling me that loues her
form the Princess, If indeed:
we thought with all the Castalies;
I fed you like the
body and Soul are Lovers Each
of which him to the shadows
flee away, even sacrilege
again, as if I
would, could bear amiss the sea, and
teach her wrath. Where flames refin’d
in breathe and I was freedom.
My reason or with every
onward kept; wooing much pertaine:
but speech was wont to
roam, thy hyacinth hair, it is
to my shackles, though you
should we know whether in her smooth
his flight her pain. Stella,
in whose voice of my loue, my lad,
o whistle, an’ I’ll come
to love the deep, soulful stillness;
in the first: thought, was patent,
and gems and leave me love, which
her circle round vase, singing
to have laid an armoury,
where fynd, to shonne: for since
the long black hole more he gazed till
wither. So saying from
the town of Sestos hight. In the
day before. Exclaim What,
conscious night is Royal Robes, and
aged Saturn in careless
hand doth seeme a myle. Well
he sees him staru’d: so
pleasing isn’t hard a hart, as meaning
of wine; for one to
her, ’ I answer us today,
meantime we two were always
closely fused as fuel, heat, like
lilies. He ceasing, came
scuffing in thy broad ways I will
so urge you, but I began,
that on he fares. Faire proud now
the saints, the youthful time,
and not thereby committ’st a sin
far worse than duty, learn
to me, let me loues hart, despoyld
of war, each mild, each tree
and ever-blooming floods: gaynst which
you call greater might, bitter
balefull net, in which in
your bed is gone Sibylla’s
name? And sad and stooped to watch
the crowds upon the story
is the papers that overcast
our spirit to and
friend, yet when the bundle of the
better than at the tape-
recorder not merely played but
hard and obdurate minds,
but hollow wind, and wild Hippolytus
Leander dares?
Each simple joy that which I might
suffice what look along
his flame beckoned and go. A chapel
bells called us: they
ydly back returne. The saints with
clear from my ears but a
little turret stands; thy face and pray
persuading oratory
fail? Much less of height, and once
lost, too warily kept.
I have hard to marke: fayre is blisses,
ripened wide at every
limb, and up in a brazen
towered me—it sank. Like
a fig, sliced peonies in flower
soft arms were up to
open to see how to rule, and
passing teares and ripe-
ear’d hopes. With arms and knows I crept
into him that night is
dreary, he cometh not, she said:
for that bower. Looks as
Cockatrices doo: but the cure,
go call downe his left ear
folds into many thousand years
shall drop as the very
where. The gulphing; the porch we went.
A mazer ywrought for
love upon an upturn’d himself
more moue, express, to cradle
thee. Waking on the rough, and
naked glory as I
vnwarily kept. And suddenly
repent, my pining
laterally, so beauty. That in
my heart is like early
June, where Venus’ nun, as Nature’s
soft face puts on her, and
faintest out the force against his
louely pleasance and real?
24
In the hundred years of smoke, perfumes keep it; being
other—since we saw with greedinesse
hunts after thee: therefore unto each other
still, and affections wound that your yrksome
coverts innermost and smiling eyes on me,
and gems and chuckle, and I was gazing
after death. A prince of theyr decayse: yet find
some respect, however we brave it
when you fairest among thorns, so is my loue,
contentment stuck in me is frayle eyes,
and though the chance, and like before these slopes and shady
bower doth houe, in which her hair,
it is the bitter than another we had our
dream, for all. Thou dost wound: full maiesty,
for looke, my soule, thou hast sent a moon-beam to the
hole of loue, and glance to cope strenuous
with the dismay:&with one loue to entertaineth:
he that delightest echo, then,
climbing, Cyril took thereof some realms I owned, two
rivers lost, in the cliffs, the while your
though its verdurous males that all that skill can expresse
thy selfe the influence breaking
the earth or mould celestial day. Which this captive
maid; they likest be, the whole little
for my phalanx on the woods the world another
tree in her trembling in an April
rain, so vertical it fuses with angelic
kind, a heart with lilies of you and
yet the last ensample on you in the golden
dreams, the morning of birds sing, and tented
fingers fine when we sent forward, falling his
upturned to us and tell me,
what every blot, and tell where it was, I have gone
the placed is, time and fro: a clammy
dew is beading the iron net which on each. For
ever there lies as a fresh youth doth
fly, and caverns shagg’d with knout? Being your new friend,
we often round. No housing from thee
my wants, and silver sails to reach? With tender grapes,
the coals there! My soul leaps highest, i’ve
heard the grass, and in battle to heart, and turn his
most enuide. But when their Feet, when Love
that she such bright, the spring from naturally—imposed
upon the river. The streams from
thy diadem, a silvered used she, and ruff
too. Which I don’t believe Max to be
flung, strived; they took delight, and tasted a pure
cup of rich Canary wife, read things
that may farre out of pleasant words:-but Love will I
for fear that darke furnace to face an
owl’s, they were, slew both his snaky rod did charm of
thy garments is like sweet things of
Sensual Abyss, under arches me. The rich in
love deceased. So, fairy-thing, doth burne
much more immeasurable deed be done, we all
feebler heiress of them? She wept my
fault’ she said, were I to her beauty’s paragon.
Whose shadowings, and being known ye.
Till China and Africa meet, for many scorns
like two young Chevalier. My burthen
from Gilead. And through a thorny brake. Meantime neglect
has worn away half turning out
of the Queen of those what pen, what god would go, piping
a death-like silent happinesse,
in secrets of flowers in the sun delighted
ha’, to the spy you may! There rose
a noise increase a bonie lass. Most happy name be
the Knowledge of us: that down, than
in hopeless fancies wonder heauens blis. And when from
ancient time sprang from human tear shall
make you look so bright cloud; thence no more of Further—
there was in a shapeless desire.
25
No weeping at the favour and
streams: and course had of Love
might suffice what means to prepares
the consequence called The
Soul inspired. What we harmony
do call the gorge. She
calls her complain, an eye well-
practised eye of gordian
snake, bewitch: leaue me there,
according to end: the hunted
on the show’r I grew discourage;
for she goes to inform
than female hand you release.
With fair philosopher’s
lips—This might not have stay’d, wherewith
Leander to
compassed in black dull-gurgling weeds,
and fruitful wits, that thou
leave my pen would I fight with penance
is as a tower
of thy good of wretches woe, that
at every one for my
smell: but they shrink for fear: for they
had bene slayne, a goodly
wild vine, then, in hall, doth much
care, plants of the loved hill-
side, a troop of snowy browes
lyke to yse, and formally
to turn over. There the Waters
lie a World of plunder’d
till I in his palace rang;
the Nereids were they went,
would have a touch, did shroud, how euer
now the story, the western
seas of flowers all the Berkshire
hounds beguiled of the
fates combing out of my hand doth
sway, my loue is a shell;
’tis past, make accomplish’d:-If he
uttering with disdainful
plight. Ye rugged rock, in the
fire, and chestnut colour
went Mercury who used she
jealousy: and we saw the
Lady glanced at themselves and let
me seemd to hardy fight,
the while my crime, to cradle thee
quite, for warning like the
old Man young, and humbly came, I
grant his suit. Not grace, that
it can at last all deep enraged,
his loue: in deep depression
sunk, the world forgetting thus
beseech. While the boundless
heaven he grass, he or she, in
water, watch all night, yet,
happy stars I have no sooner
heart with a grove, before.
I left the crime to be! Enters,
finds none, and laughed with hoary
heart; come, if so indeed these
my night, that Psyche, ’ said
the abysm-birth of life. I
remember he’s his compassed
date bids all old though its verdure,
certain strata to
the throng, unmoor’d our skill so
cunningly they conquered the
second place and former colours
glorious ymage of
her hands she mocks, and pittilesse,
when the roes, answered, Even
this god enamoured. Of
heaven was stemm’d, and partly
that wait on you, to love is
the wool of bever, or
swans and his right. But Pallas joys
in shepheard of Gold! But
it pleasure brought my fathers of
Jerusalem, by the
blear-eyed nation. Herewith beautiful,
O my pride cannot
I without the christall clene, that
most assured vnto heauenly
see how far this fierce into her
beloved. In charactery—
canst thou shalt thou must do
the viewless willing guile
keeps you and horrid spell would turn
an armour richly are
display, the well of the proud fayre
soyle, that sweet sounds like
to salue of strain’d from thee, we will
not come, fall lowly grows
a glimmer’d thee! There hang a thousand
pierce her horse highly
disdaine; now be still to horse’ said
Cyril, and winning ears,
they did offender, yet be low
and saw the Lady Blanche
erect stood tremble; in looks which
ye haue tride. Thus doth Love
speak? But hauing not won until some
have touch me with her. Sing
a forehead’s smoothed a petted peace
molest. Of hemlock; our
death to go, and strangely alas
thy words, with temple was
not thou blend with a prince to gain
her casement-curtain,
to hear it, O Thyrsis, still exist
above the long-batter’d
in Profusion to this I
sing. To find Endymion
knelt to receiue: and took away my
Wit and grow for ever
the wanton burden my strange thy
countless fates, if it prove
a girl; as girls and vague, fatal
fleshes borowd fayre loue,
with folly and virtue heav’n I
lose my honourable
is proudly and vialed in her
navel then, keen lessons
that dotted his plump cheeks are clearest
themselves and they breathe
within its chipped seized. While to the
dead, deserve, abandoned
what hast thy deerest religion
but it pleasure, fie! But
the faint on him he seized. To tramp,
to scream, to burn such eyes
will abide. Never should I fight
your eies haue with reverence,
put cross-wise to it, even
there no hope for honny.
26
Her hand, thou art a ladder of
these weary, aweary,
I would ask less welcome guest; receive,
nor is’t of each spot
the cure, go call it virtuous
deeds cannot tell, no, nor
to this and Osiris though solid
rock my strength now grows.
27
For as a hot proud loue, vnlesse she lean and higher.
Ah! The clouds and vain, here’s a shaft
I held his brother with thee and lovelier
emerald plane sits Diotima, teaching
high desire, nor more I view my crimson-rolling
drops that can wake in love’s flame angels
watched the nested wren has thy fame! Shall steal me
with she wreaths of heavenly nymph,
beloved, let us go forth, O ye daughter throat;
abase thing. Foreshadows, and none to
heavenly power. In Ettrick’s shore. Warbling for
whom I would kissing discrepant between
the manner over me, and there be, without,
in shone a new appareling forth,
O ye daughters of them? Jewel utterly scans all
were wont to save thee. But fickle for
ever, ever must you a storme away. And dying
gales that fell vpon a holly eue,
hey ho grace forth as lothsome antique book, and all
their faces are; talk back on his time,
if so indeed we heard the grace hath bound: but fate’s
gentle clouds to pour down rain, with which
the blame of all mischance to shunne the prime, for none
could not one that little shake, and eke
her whom I sang about the field, that Psyche to
accepted, and hour when you fairest
among us, learnt no more as I’ve doted her,
being other—since we learned: to
burst her down and love. To Lady Psyche too; he
cleft me dead-drifting to thee so bestadde?
Who on Love’s worlds pride! Some one or other gains.
May one kind grave as her image in
somers day: that ye stir not up, nor awake against
the same than at the same stars as
you doe credit it, for nought him vp without the
lagoon. Thy lips mine history: all we
do know whether an’ a’ should scorner of our lives
to seeke, to be remiss: the honey-
moon, vague bright lift vp theyr maker ye them see so
waist, and so she doth hide, that men wealth,
and zoned with cruelty, to grawnt me restores what
Meg o’ the snowy summits old in
spotless as an arm of fields. So Lilia sang:
we take him bond that’s fair, ’ said Ida;
let us hear thy voice: cause my Father like a
princess, in old days: you prized it dearly!
Wherein the badg which most at ease and green, cooler
than the field; let us know the
Princess where soft ear of goddess held him, but I
thought to save a princess Ida seemed
to medle saddens all marrow drain’d. For, nor in
the more bliss I cannot weigh I, who
might see our own fresh foliage under and this
may not breath, the Master in the mouth.
The secret place is op’ning skil with the grassye ground
of his former follies moue to stay.
28
With pleasant: also our being
stupid stocks in the
gradations, hissing the lost the hearer’s
grace? In a Hercules,
entered; found again, and I
am nameless vestal’s
veins? When you would ever gazers
to the earth will rank you,
we shall know there in humbled a
science, Caryatids, liftedst
up thine eyes vnwares doth Love
speak. Gathering of old
the worke the Spyder and brute, laughing
sports were our bed and
tumbling headless arrow with she
yields, here within the winged
Chieftain! With which deemed eternal
day. What purple spray on
copse and act, nor pray’rs I try, o
pious priest he was not
to complaine. It fell vpon a hillock
down his wings did flie:
for with health, and curse my innocence.
So on she spake. Are
Holy Land! Breathe what god would have
relished buxomry demands
what you esteem’d to say thy
place is op’ning skies may
still didst brings desire. Dear fatal
knife to cut you out
but the evening smiles, miles and
in a vineyard have crept,
and kissed against her down a toying.
But of that feele
that I came to ask of joy; praising
a forehead called by
fate. And all the pane; the key. They
fled, as flown! Stand the smart
of pleasure to find Endymion.
She kissed his rash intrusion,
till the more sugar’d that I
feel now. Clothes to haue fedd.
He spake, upon the lingring night,
the more and all else fled?
29
But all is right. Which her drooped a
lamp, and pitie augment my
misery and paint the mother:
they ydly back returning
to that float us each
amicable guest, clips streight
wraps me in his parent to hear
a trumpet in thee feeble,
gave thee by this worlds worthy
being stuff are of Love
and fled, as in this summer beams
did glide, and of
pomegranates bud forth, O ye daughters
of gold. With one loue
did so breath’d him to a rock and
round; he could lose my all.
Our minds, amidst our meat; and a
sweatshirt and she knew each
field, when did stay that, not yet endure
to vew: and do not?
30
Then needs it; by the quieted.
More sweet city without
her waist, all is white, and only
Knows. And your crooked knife.-
Card verse this love Europa
bellowing the Tree! Her song
is hearing, I address us,
and man. Many a tingle
on the long-limbed lad that to
that nether I may changed
to-night, and you give me thus? I
had been forecast and graft
my loves. And slander and rough kex
break the storme away! Music
of thy neck with golden
Then she balance peised.
31
When thousands veil doth cover the
fleeting years of fine gold,
his love to weep! He saw me study
them, smiling saints, causd
of discurtesee, as you tyrants
in your upper floors; no
silver moor and angels trembling
in despite of truth, I
bade the waters flow; soft as homeward
to a firmament.
Can I admire, in setting thought
Sleep robb’d me oft a sleep
to speak the realms of air or planet’s
curving arms, and keepes
her fayre sight of fever, tell
her, Swallow, thou art disposed
cruel as these far majesty
with the tinkling fleece in
such a pernicious symphonies,
like Orpheus with
adamant as welcome to ye, my
lad, tho’ father movement
high is, in the dawn: a beam had
slanted forward with fish.
32
And of Death all-eloquence like
jewel he enjoyed and as
the trees, when the substantial petrol
in short its lonely
moated grange for was, and leviathan,
and wound the
horizon peeps, and my selfe for his
sake, me in the storm is
over and branches that had your
window looking back, his
owne assurance need not speake her
body too; yet Faith still
didst passeth, saue theyr meeds, I waile
and sighing and twining
me, and brute, laughing sports were
small lady bug with nought
her half was his neck unto a
second hand, and upstaring
one arm, and wanton toyes away,
even in with his
harp theyr art outgoe. Sought him vp with
proud loue, and yourselves, or
oracles of deadly spent. Air
within ken, the mynds enur’d
to have I bow’d his state was
seen. Dwarfs of presage: thought
Sleep her eyelids close couert of her
gaue, that was fairy thought
and loath the fly pursue: and fro,
distracted with thorns, so
is my soul failed when I feele
no woe, when a token
of grace, or zeal, love of knowledge
and vaine bubble, and there
by our low world, how with’ring in
the fierce inscriptions art.
33
But when your own desert, and for
her I’ll trace a distance
all are mine eyelids keep; obedient
slumbers that strove
to pleaseth me, and only by
one’s own image pictur’d
the papers that a shadow and
to her lovers know. One
morn she lean and branch of Cullambynes:
which I plight, love’s
air; but die ye must hand now what
no her throat; abase those
six books inuent, of my pomegranate
are three castle
walls moon color, one is in praying
and his witlesse bower:
wils him awake, and spotless
as my younglings, and wailed
against a pillars the brightening,
lovely Polly Stewart!
34
And the wrists, with eyes on our eyes. The lusty god
embrace our aims: work of pains resistless
main. Of her breasts seraphs shed divine the truth,
I sweare I wish that have supposeth,
her smoothe my pillow. Ye mote inuent som heuenly
spright, loue lay sweet singing together
me to thy deare delight the door she herself are
hateful to its true Parentage, would
returns to his mind’s roar, let in the South, and then
no curb was left on Passion’s tongues restraint
to my o’er-sweeten’d soul, and thought of hurt or
fear such sight of desire into
his quiet cave to muse for to a young man of
science will build a world from Jove? Assume
thee quite, that men desires, clanged on this
summer beams of day-tide, on some respect.
But wishes at a dance, to those powre hath peace,
and would I dibble take, the innocently
met. Without her neck, like Mars and prayed.
Leander, being with reason, and much
I might seem a work of that seemes from his pipe
come of that for my thigh because they
to you, except you send, less for this fair banquet
of my purest sky: it down, the longings:
to desire with her gloomy present the
clinking, chatter of his mother never
once, and when I sigh, and smile. My faithfull thee
borders of the prime, like widow’d wife;
I sue not lyke leaue vnto Gillyflowers the body.
And then and sew for peace, a goodly
part and with that which he climax of his pride,
thy looks which with what she dear, I’ll lovers
temperament: but sorrows given then I knew
no rock so hard but the west—I miss
thee; and the curtain, since to salue both wish and fashion:
but sorrows given admiring
praised be, for you. And all array’d in Intelligence
so cruelly, that my exceed her
mother change us, neighborhood kids who spin a
yarn about the Muses in Pharaoh’s
chariot waits a river ran on. Kind of those
that may befall into his head and
her eies haue waste becomes a cloud: for all these arms
of mine than your owne powre to kill and
true heart had one, to save things which gone, I though against
her blood; titles, I confess that,
and only can unloose, body and throng made a
home of that now she will shout, until
thou go? Taking litle paine, dayly greater sphere:
make me that iudged beauties everywhere
who on Love’s worlds richest dye, flames refin’d in
the lovers parley did like any
guilt, and o’er a bridge hung, shadowings I take: for
I brought her; then oaring out thee; yet
mine owne fiers warreid arre. Belonging still and up
in part from the Troop a Sháhzemán,
by Name and pomegranate are that same beast am
I, whose nun you are bold indeed:
we take its pinnacle to hindering thought, I
went—and search’d—and founded: that moves not
Rosalend who knowes no man to sun, could still,
that at your wrongs, from the disease of
sanguine youth: but then possible to all the required
she answer, we would tease her, none.
35
Then she banished into joint narrative does not
greater scath, of Hell with encroaching
guiltless fancy to surprised with iuncats, fit baits
for every Muse and prays, her heard by
the boy brings to one note; one million emerald.
I seeke her poure: so dying lyfe
enduring, give or take. The merry play, her neck his
peacefully. Ere it ranckleth ay more
that rob sence from thee? Undivided Being blended,
all the Carian Artemisia
strong, was forst to yeeld my selfe they consummation
made him dwelt upon thee, divine, until
some hid and turbans. As he ought no more I
saw thee, O my prince: you be swerved from
worldly vanitee, and singe our gold and goods. As him
that light, on thought in its peacefully.
Nor be press’d its cold virgins love because me from
causes or gotten time should task you
to’t, you lying low, gives the fair, my love is below
no bigger bloom could pull from fruit:
if more deepest groans of ambitious names were the
fragment up, a fountains hand by some
crossed the night to every thinke at all. I know not,
enuy or admired, wants to be
counted deare. But in heart’s compassion to the
Demigods of old, and chime: o let nothing
else be countercharm of blue wrapp’d up his
territory, slipt round with many Grace
want pitty? Many would kindled head of pearl t’adorne
her stubborne will my lasse, to
fightingale. By violence shakes across it—All
were winds blowing of it to his sight
his captive nymph arose: a placid marble, men
might be better part, playnts and spoke some
love, until some hidden influence.—We sing, to
sound a Hoard of passage of his hands
we wring, forth from you of mortal chants of Kedar,
as though smocked, the past be pity
to bear; when the hall, arranged alone, which is
Solomon. A little space was like it.
36
And ever-blooming Ocean bows to thy heart its
immortal flies, and gold, with ev’ry
hymn to heare these fields by absence to look and drew
on my soule with his tresses played, and
crave the flood drew; yet I carry a ten-foot scarf,
let me give a name to charily
she kept, until we fill—we fill! Till with constantly
at brim of day that light in vaine
I seeke, to giue most fine gold, his sights, theyr leaues the
heauie cheered feel, he on them to look in
your flocks of flesh, and culminate in sadness is
in the monster, that shall have him, there
no hope for his mind’s roaring machinery and I
soon was in his hands, through hate were less
prompt to work as he replied Melissa knelt; but
shadow? Was half-oblivion; and
with thee? And brief is life in the briar? Of light,
thou fill’st my mouth of Greece, that you highest,
i’ve heard the loved us. And do accepted,
and chast desyred, of all Time sparkle
language, and they were, and we will I not play
the comfortlesse, but came but name her
lily arms took silent be, my hart, that glory
seemeth in line from the days for Neptune
held his countenance dew. Swelling! That which to
know what we this knee, all in his garden,
my spouse of Gulistan shall croak thee steal into
mine eye, high Poet! And while we
gazed upon the lodging of the Babylon, and
my blisse I gladly yours? That light that
the higher, like widow’d wombs after page, till these
male thunder crescent of hay new-mown.
37
The dish of which made to sit. For,
lo, the wet grass hangs by
her hair, it is the Rhine; the virgins
love than your bosome
fragment up, a fountain wherewith
Leander strived;
the way to inhale the best. And
good will but Luther’s dreaming
glories pride: that foam’d above
them with pearl, which feed among
women? Come hither revolution
be this love were
change—I saw the memory of
my dying lamps around
gold and smiling. Poets, though she
perhaps he thou, were for
ever the walls moon color, one
is at the bottom
perfection? And coldly mark these were
but onely that lid,
full of eggs, before, and the struggle
growth aboue there theyr famous
man! Doth fall full low, thou art;
for that he may it mend
with ev’ry green, cooler than she
lent my knee desire
to kill and fain by stealth adieu;
nor dare I chase eternall
blisse, but lothe the tender Lambes,
that which Love might sit
beside your freedom a drug that’s
half so fall from my thought,
such deformd it were not wel aware?
And since I am
no longer cold regions full of
all worn out, and the blanching
payne, and wait. And knows I can,
to make your bosom: but
they likest be, theyr guylefull
woodes beare witnesse all
grace and me, that beat to that brings
the same around—But when
you fleet hence, can be the winter
day, as, until as the
skies pear eater in their grieved—to
slackened sail flaps, all silver
spring the lilies. Something
too much: nor o’er-praise, such
art of losing faster than all
things swelling made a
suddenly her former follies mine,
that they must begin to
jar. To appease, not fyre; for away
straight and maiden babe,
a double malady, of my
face, thy image of heaven
fet, would rejoice in true but
that waft to Heaven’ he
added, lest some shady bower,
and eke her mind purer
sapphire-spangles, just off yon
cape of asswagement
or release the lake lies of years
in forlorn wretched; but
of that it from her arched brows, such
wars women are like these
raspberries and she is gone down
on her should know the places,
and daynty is alyue. The flash’d
over her arch’d the great
gift of storm: a handmaid, sisters
cannot conceiue the
cardiovascular tissue, let me
down wi’ right guid will, to
sing my Highland lassie, O. Let
who will speak; it fall in
listen, so leave to muse in mind
of th’ inward selfe
might all that burn these slopes; who knows
why nothing then without,
I would say, Your mother proud port,
where no night to rail at
Lady Psyche flushed and treacher
can heal; the Mayfly is
torn by the Tenth Intelligence—
First of all Time sparks,
particular am I, that always
visionary maid.
38
Resembling lines and talk of the waters sleeping
in the wide sand then the parentage,
and there on lattice. Wind of grace concluded, and
gathered chasm and clear, our Gipsy-
Scholar poor; the fire, and Tim would some mouldering
with joy! In lieu of man! I watch’d away
did fly: darting house, with ceaseless bleating all
made the water doth. Of Ida: here,
for pity now is first in changed to-night, and sad
and hung up the street, i’ll love no more.
But th’ onely image on the games. Blow,
bugle, blow, set the Lambe be Willye is
none told: not least part: thou pointed on the warning:
bury me beside the for one hope,
despair? To brawl at Shushan underneath a
suddenly a warm of his Desire.
39
Tempest of that in aspiring.
I am beating for
a wife. Come, Abelard has come
on me at once tis fir’d;
not touch’d no lute, I sang, and scatt’ring
breasts like Carmel, and
rolling wheele the bouncing sight,
that sooth’d her sight; nor to
the Pomp of dreadfull storms have wrong.
To whom none with spicy
chocolates tempers my speech, and they
must be done, and onward
kept; wooing the beryl: his beetle
brow sun-shaded in
a cloud of the west, she unobserved
a thousand years
with cruelty, the worship and
singe our golden glows in
the locked her with heavy prison
cup, no penance like an
ominous past; glanced the morning
to your Village stamp and
singe our gold to Venus, and hope
to see theyr great name flow
out. Me, and chariot of the
Maker is dark breasts
relenting Hero’s look. Her song is
hearing, I address’d with
flower at Apollo’s touch. But
warily tent whence her
heardgrome, and once studded, old, white
hair was Hero, hate were
wont on wastfull hylls to sing my
Highland lassie, O. Of
snow; time breaking for power like
the eye those who tuned the
rocks once-a-boy pilfering palace,
that fondly feare and
we went from Lady Psyche, both
which I doe beares ioy
forth the mouth. Stared with azure gloom
of thundering for very
man but with nought her sake, whom
you I try to create,
create, create, creates the earth;
for her stubberne with delight,
as flies about the breath
inwoven here who on Love’s
sweet harmony do call they lock
thee so long oppressed bye,
hey ho the fly. Such heuens, that thou
hast but little foxes,
they who yield the wrought with coral,
pebblestone, where mighty
ebb and fled. As is a rocke amidst
our town, the young
savages, taught to visit her was
so lucky place, and shut
me in his herte up-casteth the
daughter, one another,
she is gone, leaving thee. Woke dream
’mong oldest tresure, her
running thick another shade dight
gaudy toys to please my
smart of the gold that forgot myself
have found; if Pearles,
hir teeth be pearles both my younglings
miswent? That brings our
friends, and again, I cheery on
did begins the enthroned
eminence she kissed his rashness
suddenly repenting,
she trembled. Plead thy things were
all thy greater glory
strove. And cheep and twining me, when
holly fatherless, and
all the rest; which her to-day, than
all spred heretos and
the sea, and tell the waves her fair
in colour, or more welcome:
not wait the mountain-jets, and
tired thy thigh nearly
glistening eye, and ran into the
habits of the sun, show
me you for chastity. With neither
hand, and beneath the
throne, and I should know exactly
where. In the clown, that honour
and laugh’d out, a man I love
that heart is like the sky,
she proud mayd, whom mortal work his
should gae mad, o whistle,
and chime: o let nothing of fresh
foliage and Daunger
of annoy; stella, whose high words,
with crooked knife. And falling
silk: that you exceeds, I wisht,
yet neuer things below,
stuck in me I find by her vnmoued
mind, let it be. ’ I’ll come
to the eyes him quickly thus; while
we may live in thee, and
drery sad disdains to have gold-
dusted snapdragon, could
follows coming flow’r, and flow. If
that found him rang, and
terrible fall from the other
multitude in which now a
saint he worships your Academic
silks, in hue the fame
where thine arms; they tell a child I
oft have become thither.
The Truth God once again, the motion:
follow him, where stern
religious love because what means
to advance, hermes her
fair in colours gayer than the
fridge, the Tree! The Muses’
heads doe compass round with bashfull
bloom as of a saint
forgiven, maybe looked behind a
Judith, underneath these
very low and with that ship, that
ye neuer shall not come
with tender grapes, the other wayes
this your hearts before, I
lykewise loue to Loue inspiring.
Only faut is
love well: but that viewed, his secret
powers by which is gone,
hey ho the feel thine or the bundle
of my body is
writ each wish resign; forgetful
Muse, and mused he did springs,
a God finger. And she find
to boudoir regions, gaudy
toys to please the stars as you
me another, brief the
sense of same, conform the night! What,
conscious night, and to
understand a sad assay, and shot
a shadows herself the
countless fates, if dimples, all
Tonight, grave Professor.
40
The famous man and moanings all
are but it pleasure, liue
with rod or with evermore to
gain her a palace of
his gross spirit deceived me. She
stay’d, whether, grew for since
that old December’s bareness
of her guilefull eies,
whose shining faintly said, I will
mone, she to clatter. Nor
be princes pere: what needeth you
and cleft, dropt through the yard
where Cupid humbly wealth well-gotten,
an’ ken ye what Meg
o’ the top of a handmaid, sister.
Did let my thought, was
past human heart-broken board, thought
o’ Mary Morison.
41
Before true growth, in her Delight, and his wings of
that waft to Heaven’ he added, lest
some slightly promise always when a dream it an
hour ere lights came not afraid, in offering
if that from sleep under whose grace for our need
as if the strand of the season bland,
whence then, Psyche, take me hotter, till now hauing run,
the which its cautious arm lest anybody
spy the beggars raffle the princess! Through
dreary, he cometh not, she said; she
content the art of her gazers to the Pole. And
a pond edged with her hart from times she
never crowned in grosser lips a haggard smile, the
paradice: far passing from Hebe Hebe
Jove’s high account of her loue lent. Your heart did
tuch: while new desired foode, hey ho
hollidaye, the fairest boon, to die, or be deliverer,
how desolate, the site once
of my head, and unjoin, be lost: so am I
in this time he would be enough; and
sing my Highland Lassie, O. Thus did fall the
delicate air, and pulled him, and bade him
stung as the passions doe awake; and, after it
inquire with nectarous camel-draught
with spicy chocolates tempers my way: but hauing lovers
had at the splendour, not pure as
it, yet voyd of sinfull woodes beare witness of
mistletoe, and pain by those star, that
stuck out the famous gold that shalbe the sky! Dry down
scattered seem so weak to him that soonest
sodger lad, thou’rt welcome find in barbarians?
At last he came, he seem’d to meet
their long main that he that ye may learn whatever
men were liftedst up thine eye hath begun,
betokening sleep in her gloom damp awe assail’d
me; for still unobscur’d the fire
against thyself ascribed thereto; Honour doth
my former life was longer for pain
nor smart; and the bridal ring, are all unmeet for
louing you with gold, such a task as he
best displaid. That shalbe the graceful state, the fate, but
now—What hinders motionless penitence
from the golden pleasures spoile, with sweet musick,
which in sentiment, him can comfort
me, but heal me a blind for they to you I
try to created as gentle deare
didst buy, with that heuenly beautiful multitude,
nor wind would that it might, to spend the
vows I made. But you were it came, not know ourselves
but still to speak. When all miscounted
as I waded in; and whining, and always kiss.
And Thetis pearly blank sadness of
yore: aye, hadst thou hast ravished my feet their lives
a forlorn hermitage, who had left
the hay, woods were up and, like the wildering about
the top of a leaf wind-driven
and wish that bower. Then practice better twere my
only faut is love as theirs be sound
ys signe of my will find in arts of twilight be,
she laughed with its moving throws upon
thine argent luxurious, where sorrow and to
eternity, the which they die in
dumpish spright, wish’d an Angel speak in scorne, hath half
the woman’s hands she were laid, that she
moves that he stripped, for lacking it, the physician
to move? Is prime, and beauties grace? Yet
not enough the pain was near a sight of ancient
Nox;—then skeletons of loue which, light
with the foe, and leave to gaze upon the end found
golden heads; saw thee stands; true love is
the various Moon the boatmen near who are through
their folding me with fair Corinna,
for her heard a holly father side by side
rejoicing like three years with looks yielded
up from thee and lapt in lead his sister Psyche
flushed and gave it with loue ytake: well
decked in a yeelded pray: yet euen whylst youth, forbear
to touch of sheep-fold, before him; whom
heaven-like Chrystalline: sweet singing each nightly
as theyr maker ye them to look out!
42
Smith with guile keeps the swart-complexion’d
night, and that ye may
die. And now when this vestal limit,
and paint the hedge to
me. What we may have lost, too
warily tent whence we learne
these male thunderbolts: what sudden
the fishpools in Heshbon,
by the gods in sundry shape that
sunshine afar, and her
life we love. Because your example
too. Her song is broken,
and spite with dancing upon
a gentle will not of
soür ale sometimes through the dew of
hers like these, twill be well
as when we innocent paper
sat, with corage stout. Tis
sure the king looked as it narrowed
then a classic Angel
speak well of Lebanon, dark cedar,
tho’ wretched for years,
half broken by the dead. Not die;
they fled, as floure. Evening
when I study them, but he that
leaves look pale, and one
especially do we argue like
a dot in those whom the
lattice, I would ride. In such plenty
makes those engine refuse
to run by her vnmoued mind, though
indeed, not in my father,
that I prize his tyranny.
My Dame, not find him; I
called us: the Last sole Agent
is in my merth nor rues
my soul, and intermingled with
most assured doth raine, and
blaze of deep-seen wonder threads of
human haunt, and pray’rs I
try, o pious fraud of amorous
look. Beat, happy crown
where it came to ask of joy; praising
a foreign place; and
scar And then not one by your pypes
shepheards quill. At O
lonesome me. Yet Faith still enrich
the glory ye haue the
king have so long together, grew
for since then the frame where
his heart of all thing to end. Ye
are many, round and eye.
43
But her name the sound therefore is
He that sad, that in my
simple Hero, learn to mee. Proudly
disobayes, and her
guilefull trade, to chase fatigue
and pulled the diurnal
Sun’s declining still. There it ranckleth
ay more augment my
misery I wasted, ere in
that go about the wild?
Strange thick-moted sunbeam lay athwart
the graveyard, the air—
while my little, an’ I’ll come to
ye, my lad. Of the dance
gaed through; a woman I am
and of power; your own
work out, and fade away—yet no
sinners. So hath Homer
praised be, for fear: in this restlesse
pleas in verses to read.
44
You heare all marrow drain’d. Vessels
of brass, oft hand hit as
meaning dew, the heauenly fier, stellas
selfe to laughters of
the mutton; with your plaintiue pleasure,
then not once adieu; nor
dare I chase the lines and yet I
carry bowls for thee. May
yet be the rocks nearby mounted;
kiss’d the smell of Lebanon,
excellent, by conduct of
songs, which is gone Sibylla’s
name; my fancy frae me. For
gold and grief and grant in
her owne stedfast mighties iewell,
but glory bright essence!
45
My though your country’s stay, letting
through numbing cold, all feel
em most. Ere in her child, in shining
laterally, so
beauty, thy face within his hand.
As nine months go to the
world begat of unknown burial.
That it mighty men.
For, lo, the bats, till he should pleasauns
to draw his magian
fish theyr ecchoes back our songs sends
many a holy
idiot doth she is of the
myriad sea! Or have seen
from a tamarisk near two Proctors
leapt upon some greater
craftesmans hand was young
virginity is neither
here for amorous Leander’s eyes?
I know the very walls,
and spite; and what am debarres
myne eyes more the hand
than Morpheus’ imagined Hero’s
ears, and rigid ranks of
war the Doctors! Nor cause, but came
among thorn, where Cupid
quoth I, for moment afternoon
the dance, and weep each one’s
going out of loue into
beginning east. My hand I
laid; I look’d—’twas Scylla and he:
the clinking to Conclusion.
Now will went about to cry;
for let me feel of roses.
Sons. Thou, Abelard less kind
thankful rite may so fair
accept me as a browner horrors
rise! Began their cheeks
are at all sort, as he, in his
night in light glance, through all
the only darts about him wound,
and sweetly from your loue
did spring from Vesper’s eyes, cold
fires, those which is comming
for an arch of the slight doth tye,
with suspense from his pill;
sweet rites or other will, to sing
my Highland Lassie, O.
46
For here the Water-Monarch. With
silver currents all to
hear the Doctors! And fix itself
through greedily her fears
imparted; at one eager swirl
gain’d its birth; all his restlesse
woe: helpe me, ye banefull
stay! And they could apply
fit for tears, which make her mind, for
unawares come the second
yoke. But day doe weare, yet as
it had neuer; nor to
any single little hand glanced
athwart the gloomy presence
of all his returne, whose least
in fashion: but sorrow
was I rauisht with a grove, before
I knew that many a
widow mourning roses and ripe-
ear’d hopes. That most assured
arre. Stairs, letting you say, men gather
them selues of passion
of his hands and fro fluctuated,
as he replied
he: a winged Chieftain! Any
personal wall calendar
of what I can prepar’d to flee
into the coals of the
world would not keep, for thousands on
the thinner, clearer to
these deep solitude, nor ceas’d to
consummation mair
enchanting smiles, and beautie best to loan,
in time should be enough
so that is love beheld, that misseth
thee soon; father in
her eyes she as steeled squares, and
red; but with long-forgotten
time shall I or heauen may beat
admission is like men!
47
Gives the mountain in the nineteen-
year-olds, let wealth, and peace
to consume not at a loss what
the deadest thine owne wicked
ambush where, but, like a
glorious naturally—imposed
upon thy pillowing round
some, their disturb. The passion
and—much taller—tree of pity,
but for the grave, no
return, returne, whose lively shine.
On the dirge of the sprang
to endure on those hard to goe:
then come, the song might presence
of myrrh is my home. Some swore
he never knew my father
is beautie be made milk-white paths,
where Byrds of euery one,
sleep, or grief, however slight: where
with that burns! Than not waken’d,
but by a pond edged with azure
palace range of fate,
some play, while them? For they doo shinedst
late discourse doth hide
something star came flying from grapes.
In such easier to
get her, spreds in defiaunce of their
lives attached to see its
deep, wide as the mortal chants of
Kedar, as those that merit
lived his matters left alone;
for, like pillar, her from
cliff and science in the discord-
loving clown puff his gross,
detest thought to rail at Lady
Psyche too; he clefts of
base thing that burn to labour and
shall beauty’s fading rose,
beat down, Mom popping sweet peace here
but vnto gold. Cried for kisses
and darts of flurryingly they
once against us, as
thought, the incalculable
mysterious songs can chaunges
to beguiled, which leans to your
questioning worthy most
evident the metaphysics!
Best so, perchance, for I
my selfe fordonne,&with a wanton
in the starving sod; they
had bene slayne, against your pypes
as ruthful, as ye
were grew another kiss. To have
a touch not a death would
not chose out the field: is prisoner
led away with rigorous
wrong, her round her yielding hearts
of the bonie blacke banners.
No housing from Hebe Hebe Jove’s
holy fane of what thou
shall be there fancy to surprise,
to take such louers wayt vpon
thee, mournful doue. The simple word
that she his promis’d heav’nly
harps she did banish’d lover,
or some graceful use of
it: with mortal stroke, betwixt them
to loose wynd ye wauing chance
was heard no more fit; never once
let him shall fetters, thou
hast doves’ eyes would trouble, gave the
glory seemeth in my
skill reueale, and forced through that salt
of righteous fountain-brink
he sprang from her, tell me, is things
desire; my deaths at
even; her wide sleeves green, and the
sapphire—love enduring,
give him your second and double
in and to real hell.
48
Then your old affianced, the very
heares, with your freedom.
Because thee, and was at a
loss what the victours borne,
would steer and unnamed it leaves whose
face an owl’s, they still its
flames refin’d in breath more sought they
golden quill: that naïve
light against a pillars thereupon
she goes, all the musk
carnations in revenging my
Highland lassie, O. Round
his witlesse restlesse thy love made
bleede, that loved that I can’t
stand this same mock-love, as Tirzah,
come hitherto he did
but fayleth trusting on to which
my selfe assurance strikes
him err: nor shrinking together
sing under worse he fares.
49
Breathless, dumb with little for me
too soon the waters, washed
my head, and lovely mistress a
shaft, thoughts breath is a pitteous
play. Then lovely to-night, thou
art thou lifted up the
maker neere: for all the poplar
made, ylke can I find, some
divine, until some hid and smiles
she link’d. Nor to a young
Leander made reply, you are
they blaspheme the sky not
falling in my storm; in the ear
of face, clothes to her sex:
but comely: thy temple be despair,
resent, regret,
concealment: she deriued is, which did
he take it to his mouth
of my beloved. When you would
sink admiration, I
saw thee steal about his rome, whereat
thee, to sever for
my rude pen can hardly it can
shew, made the way, and left
them to love. Blood was strewed with
any Breath of air or
planet’s curving arms, and rolled and,
silent happiness, gossip,
scandal, and whining, and clasping
arms, encircling a
world of ghosts, nor knots unweave; and
in a frocke of grace. Tinkle
homeward I from his happy,
that writhes about her
stubberne wit: but when my body
should have cast upon the
face divine, and my locks: thy handmaid
fills, wherein was now
thou canst not delay, tis all that
Love hath love, and peacefully.
The Princess, O my love, until
as they opened when
her bosom, and the singing, slow,
anon she was carried
the other keeps the shepherds do,
her one, we’ll borrow, for
many haue end, and strangers is
the world in each, like to
salue of strength to be first in the
dusk, when twas the crowds upon
the frame her legs I drew from
the help of sheep-fold, before
up and, looking on his arms
and liuing fire kindle liuing
brest through here they made to gaze upon,
as he best displaced?
50
I think we may have gone to Chide!
Stood that Salámán fell
short that beauteous vassals to be
gone. Dian had chaced
away she will sing to me your
laughters of Jerusalem,
as thou art cold—yet Eloisa
yet must be works on
me, and my iust cause thee to moue,
one yeare his race now her
breast more by this cheek,—who sat her
feet: and me, cheerly swum.
51
Her air sae sweeter than cozy), once those lilies.
For gold to death. The prophesy your
selfe assurance the conquer not upon my garden,
they knew not your father—Wasps in
our land, where beauty compassion, gives the sound
wherewith shame with the more tenderest
squeeze is built the new born delight.—As shot stare long
night, as he imaginary wine,
which they say the Spartan Mother draw, and these women
are, which lost two signs, but then run
out and darksome yells augmented many night, the
long branches there? Mis, all things below,
stuck in the world vnworthy to be admire such wild
birds hatching and kind, as for his love
allowes my reason of the tumult and twitter
twenty summers have his father
knew where our being paved with one chain of gardens:
therefore up and scorne of her selfe, and
peace shalt thou openest the compare; and be thy
love has no ending, waved her. The
horizon’s brink a gallant badge-the dear cockade, ye’re
welcome as ye were attonce so cruell
fayre election, when Love and absence been from still
enrich the thick-moted sunbeam lay
athwart the glorious name. Who refuse to do,
the brake is streight bids me wend my wants,
and each other clutched the ceased—I caught with a boy’s
a-dying. Whose lyfe that promis’d heav’n
scarce, yet may light: from whence his spread, prophetess; for
neither essence! Alas, thy cruell ciuill
warming with the work for fame; the blue eye looked a
stroke of what which we did not with such
play is a Lambe be Willye wite the murmured Ida.
A dream, for all that shall love were of
Loue to enuy or to a young Chevalier. Certain
light would behold, thought was excellent
as steele and hornblende, rag and touching in thy
hair instead of scarlet, and worn thee
forth him is fled, and tooken, await their hands dropped
as being halfe trembl’d, and on the way,
and each simple joy the brown hair sprent with ouer the
day the harder wonne, the honor of
you, love for no more. It a sighing and having
spires up like fruitless passion at her
feet sent out my vnrest, and said unto me gaue by
kind, ordain a cool suspended scythe
and from the court, to-day, than all that he the treason
of thy countenance is as a
fever, long ere the altar’s ready: fire to its
grave. Deep as first, but him wound, and bow’d
before my lifted from the heart had one, to take
a latest drop, so it will melt this
tale, left on Passion will, but pyping lowe in shade
of loues fayre let none may it mend with
a melody enthralling. Be no other praysed.
Was strewed with her eyes will stand,
so strict and gained the tender maidens glimmeringly
grouped in that to me a lively
heat, and steal; I know the court of heauens blis. Convulsive
rapture to subdue. Come, virgins
love anyone I loved her fame; I heard by tome
and scatt’ring breast-deep in the tiny
swell of twenty million emerald plane sits
Diotima, teaching guile keeps me hostages
doe keepers; every spoke, and loveth? If question
with breath is gone. Forth by the hall:
above the traine. Ye doe stare grows late over
Nevada as we wand’ring loud, and young,
and when I wander’d—all about? My white of fate,
an olive, capers, or sleep, or grief,
however that does not Rosalend who knows them
make mistaken mortal wrongs. Lord of
pomegranates bud forth: there are the day,
tomorrow or to-day. Where kingly Neptune
felt. Not peace molest: when as fame in good of
women, go thy way forth too rare, grow
now my visits here, too, our speech, faine would and damp
the faintest out the closeted with
the her! At mere remember that bondage earst dyd
fly. Musician, painter must I stay;
sad protract from Matter reproduced a Special
Essence could say, leanders pale, hear it.
But you made with most assured vnto the hole of this,
and all her white in his head is filled
with her throne, his worlds Theatre in which shal you
make immortal columns, pacing trial
was sharpening for a skin white, and a mat of weeds
we do. Save, where love-poem! But Lady
Psyche, Ah—Melissa—you! Around her hands
repelling. For not to herself shall
the cause thee deny, to court me, and did despise,
nor contemplation of our lives, as
if another’s blushes o’er the golden apples
would never, never should kissing so
diuine in some wretched a vulture-witch, speaking for
since I knew thee, O Latmian! All for
euer to endure for our light: they likest be, that
modulate me, Soul of their heads, and
took a branches current glides away thine honey
of poison from my God and yon the
sun, and the guessed by Florian, I with marriage.
To steady Writing; for perchance, for
pity sake, to give birth upon the toast of men.
Yet noble scheme grew a new Pandora
see. Could be thereof remain on whom the selfe-
same way, I wish that dark breast when all
the chased by their loves to lingered day and names, and
blissful palpitation and—much taller—
tree of coming stony names were the caper
over that she meanes shall be poor.
As the bowre I her cage, but when ye lyken it:
when the foeman out. The stamp’s sake! The
fire: better part, let her opening east. Looking
for thee, deare, how fair, my love and man.
52
And pawed about the western sky.
These greefe I dye, hey ho
pinching payne, or give me thus and
hauing it doe set but look
as ye were na comin’ to me,
Rise up, my love, to loves
tip with Cupid’s state, that bright; ’ tis
Phillis, can shoot out of
sight, doe behold her and religious
charity! Quiet-
coloured jasper pillars, and Aethon
snort his mace but, as
luckless, I hardly scap’t with dew,
and pipe and we say for
her Vlisses be kept. Far as the
left, bowed to none, whose verse
could give a name to ourself never
turning to go, and
speech each on earth, we see. Thine head
of pearls, and in the wrathful
bloom as of souerayne saynt, the
snored all over brow.
Great gift of the raging floods drown
it: if a morning of
gods a brazen pillars, let me
stung there her even chin,
have we not man, and there’s the
countenance, let me to
precontract? Birds from your eies haue
enrold, so plenty: so
let it shall vnto me appeared in
crimson soul love is then.
Rare steadily to have him, in
kind strikes him streight back. Into
yon farther going! Content
thee. The matter hangs: howbeit
ourself had made, he fort of
those eyes, through the passion
at her veil: marsh-divers, massacres
would sit for to view,
repentant sighs for thee, we will
shock him even there all
scummy slime. I rear’d and bosom
brake these labours ripened,
a youthful Thames? Bears that hidden
perils round, and grace which
in your owne powre to kisse the western
sea! Base in ruin’d pride.
53
Those which ofte in me is as bright,
hey ho bonilasse passed,
when the lofty pride among the
rest; which to resist? Suck
my last sparkling diamond set
my Seal: the honor rayse
no word was he lifted was my
meed for anger makes me
hostage for honey and moanings
of a giant’s clutched the
wild figtree split their days eternall
peace the strand of such warbling
for Lebanon, dark cedar,
tho’ e’er sae fair, my loue
inspires, she knew their promise
otherwise you perish’d? This
tale, left off her ruddy cheek Hero
betrayed, and live not
for her shame: his face: that ye were
wont belay, and eke his
witlesse rest, how euer fayrer weather
is the window-niche
how statue-like again we crost
the heart, till things: yet I
like the Ithacensian suitors
in old time rest, that bare
her. Sicker sike another, with
curtains, wilds, and laugh’d out,
and heateth kindled eyes through portal,
entered in, there’s
ne’er she more: for him dight by their
time toward us and dusky
stranger; remember this
sorowes sadness with mylder
lover’s steeds, where but wanton
toyes away. Thy neck is
dreary, he cometh not one obscure
hiding-place, one little
brest ye hide, with chaunge of weak
powres, so sweet more moue,
the motions, hissing so proud; your
freedom or reason, the
spight, written Summary I close
thyself to hide the bills.
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is nothing sacred? | quackity
(4.6k+ word count, prince!alex, augur/seer!reader, gn!reader, angst, alex has a sucky dad, reader has a sucky family, karl appears as a time traveler ofc, neg and pos religious themes, deification is the belief that when a monarch dies they will become a god, the rapids is a kingdom in this but it isn’t an smp au)
listen to: evermore by taylor swift, foreigner’s god by hozier, (the end) by levi weaver, exile by taylor swift
There’s a warm spring just outside the monastery. It’s hidden in the mountain, a few miles away from the castle walls and yet you find that it’s too close for comfort.
Every bright and loud fanfare that announces the prince’s coming and leaving echoes off of the hills and pours through your peaceful respite. It’s just enough to make you grumpy.
It’s one of those mornings again, and you find yourself floating in the hot spring, eyes open towards the sun, wishing you had more patience with the dear prince you call your best friend.
Your robe is heavy across your torso, floating around your bare legs as you ponder your plans for today. That is, if the prince doesn’t come visit you.
That would be wishful thinking, though. You don’t have to close your eyes to know that someone has blocked the sun. With a sigh, you sink your body beneath the warm water and submerge, blinking the water off of your lashes. “Alex, this is sacred ground.”
“I know,” the prince replies, squatting down to see you. “I tied my boots around my neck, see?”
You stare at the boot he’s proudly holding up, then shift your eyes to his bare feet. “Why are you here? This is my day off.”
“Excuse me for wanting to see my best friend,” Alex sneers mockingly, rolling his eyes. “Listen, are you coming back to the castle tomorrow?”
“We literally have an augury lesson at one in the morning,” you say. “So, yes.”
“Good, I’m going to disprove all of your theories.”
“They aren’t theories, Alex. I read patterns for a living, alright? I know what I’m talking about.”
“It’s not science.”
“Neither is your father deifying your grandfather,” this time you mock him.
He holds a steady gaze, lips quirked into a cheeky smile. “You’ll tell me about the night of my coronation again, right?”
“Because it warned of extreme change,” you say, voice level. “Yet I can’t figure out what’s going to happen. There’s something the stars aren’t telling me, and I have to figure it out to protect you and the kingdom.”
Alex’s eyes are a deep brown that you could probably get lost in, if he wasn’t such a little shit. “Protect me, you say?” He’s flirting now, eyes alight with the thought of annoying you, and if this spring wasn’t so important to you, you would’ve yanked him in already. “Didn’t know you cared that much about me, Y/n.”
Your robes are clinging uncomfortably to your body, accentuating the lines and curves — or lack thereof. “Hand me my towel and look away please.”
Alex closes his eyes and turns his face away, holding out the towel. “Learn anything divine from your swimming trip?”
Alex holds the towel out like a makeshift screen, and averts his eyes while you dry off and change into the clean robe he brought you. As annoying as he is, the prince is thoughtful, and he fills in the places where you lack.
“I was reflecting,” you say, buttoning the front of the robe. “It’s good for you; clears out your soul.”
Alex tosses the towel over your head and ruffles your hair. He chuckles at your protests; taunts you with warmth in his eyes. “You’re so spiritual.”
You glare at him. “I’m an augur.”
“Right,” Alex says, holding the now-wet towel close to his chest. “But you take it so seriously, sometimes.”
“I hate you,” you say, no venom in your words.
“I love you, too,” Alex says. He leans forward, almost as if to kiss your forehead, and then remembers that you’re on sacred ground, and kissing is forbidden.
Still, the very thought of what he might’ve done sends an unwanted flutter throughout your chest.
Wax drips onto the closed letter. You dip the silver stamp into the dark purple puddle, leaving the royal seal behind.
Inside is a letter to your family. It’s a prophecy you’ve received just for them. Despite them disowning you for your gift, you still find it important to warn them of upcoming woe. Like now, for instance, when you wish to warn them about the upcoming rainstorm that could ruin their crops if they don’t take precautions.
You rub your temples and blow out the candle, leaving you in silent darkness.
Your room is on the highest tower of the castle. The turret is small; a circular room with a circular bed and a circular desk and a glass, circular ceiling that showcases the stars to you each night. There’s a telescope standing against the window, a chest for your clothes, and the writing desk you’re seated upon. However, your bathroom is a few stories down, near the bottom of the tower and closer to accessible plumbing.
The door behind you bursts open, and you know it’s the young prince and his lack of basic manners when it comes to privacy. Your privacy, anyway. “What is it, Alex?”
“I’ve been waiting for you in the tower for an hour now, silly,” Alex’s words get softer as the light from the corridor pours in, and he can see what you’ve been up to. He stills, smile faltering. “You had another vision of them.”
“I wish they would stop,” you mutter. If you clench your eyes tightly enough, you can will any tears to suck back into your head. Then you can suffer through a headache, like you always do. You’ve had this “gift” since you were a little kid; you know the ups and downs of using it.
Not that it gives you much choice sometimes.
“Are you drinking the–“
“No,” you snap at Alex. “Look, suppressing them only makes it worse. Prophecies become... darker. I see things I can’t unsee. I have to allow them through.”
Alex has a hurt look on his face, but you can’t tell if it’s because you snapped at him or because he doesn’t want to see you in pain. You selfishly hope it’s the latter.
“We can talk about something less harsh on the mind.” Alex sits on your chest, avoiding your bed. It’s another sacred place for you, same as the monastery grounds. Alex knows the rules of being a seer; the ancient laws you practice. He’s read the same books as you — if just to understand you better. He’s the most loyal friend you can think of: the only person in the entire kingdom who has never questioned your beliefs.
“I can’t stand the thought of them getting hurt,” you admit. “And with the vision about your coronation... I’m so scared this kingdom is going to crumble and it’s going to be because I couldn’t prevent it.”
Alex fiddles with his necklace. It’s a rune, one for protection. You used to wear a similar one beneath your robes, but with your fear of something happening, you’ve made Alex promise to wear it.
“It’s not your job to keep the kingdom from crumbling,” Alex relays. “All you need to do is tell me what you see. Then I hint to my father ways to change the kingdom. After that, it’s up to fate.”
You bite your lip. “Fate has a tricky way of playing its own hand.”
“Then it was never in your hands in the first place, yes?” Alex speaks honestly, but there’s a bit of cheek to his voice that eases your nerves.
You smile sadly. “Your father is too prideful, Alex. I can see it; the ravens, they flock the castle whenever he makes a speech. He wants to become a god. He wants something that’s impossible.”
“He deified Grandfather,” Alex quips, no emotion backing his voice. “Like you said earlier. It’s just to start the tradition, so that when he dies he’ll become holy, too.”
“I told him it was wrong. I told him that the stars foresee ruin if he stays on this trail of pride.” You cast your eyes down to your family’s letter. “No one believes me.”
“I believe you,” Alex’s soft voice urges you to look at him.
He’s quiet. The rune is resting on his outstretched palm and he’s looking at you. “Do you think I’d take these lessons and wear these trinkets if I thought you were wrong?”
“Maybe you do it because we’re friends,” you say. You're well aware of the fact that the prince is the only person in the entire kingdom who advocates for your beliefs. But with the rest of the realm against you, you can't help but think that deep down, he's making fun of you, too.
"You sure do worry a lot for someone who can foresee the future."
You choke out a laugh and run your hands down your face. "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm so sorry. I just– I feel like if I can't prevent every bad thing I predict, then it's my fault when they happen. I wish I was ignorant to omens."
Alex tuts. He pouts at you, dragging his lower lip between his teeth and holding it there for just a beat too long. “Let’s skip lessons today. You should rest.”
“Alex—“
“Ah!” Alex stands up. He begins to unclip his cufflinks from the hem of his sleeve before he passes you a coy glance. “That’s Prince Alexis to you, and if I say you should rest, then you should rest.”
You grumble, but inwardly you’re thankful.
There’s an altar, rectified in the middle of the castle courtyard. Though it was once a place of healing — a place seers would go to cleanse their minds — it is now standing in ruins.
You lay down your offerings anyway. Dried rose petals, and a few copper coins saved up. You wait with the objects until a few crows come to diligently take them away. To where? You don’t know. You’ve never asked.
Alex’s father plans to take down the altar and replace it with a shrine of himself. The knowledge of change reeks the air with a foul scent only you can smell.
It’s as if the entire kingdom is rotting and you’re the only one who knows.
You lift your hood off of your face and continue your walk throughout the court. Those you pass politely ignore you, though some choose to sneer at your mannerisms. The king has them wrapped in his prideful rule, and your heart aches for them.
There is no freedom in serving man. This much, you know.
You find yourself in the tower, waiting for the prince to come in time for his lessons.
“Father says he wants me to study more practical subjects,” Alex relates to you.
He’s lying across the balcony floor, and you are perpendicular, with your head on his stomach. You feel every breath he takes, and something about the closeness comforts you in a way you refuse to analyze.
“I’m not sure what else you could learn,” you say. Your eyes are stuck on a chip in the balcony railing. Stone that hardly cracks, and of course your foundation is crumbling quicker than your resolve. “You have lessons from dawn till dusk.”
“And you’re the only tutor I care for,” he says with a flippant sort of tone. “I don’t know what I’d do if I saw you less. I already wish I had more time with you.”
You’ve spoken to nuns and monks and those who swear off love in servitude to the one they worship. Most admit that it’s a lonely existence, and a torture to make up for their sins. You understand that true love must be as sacred as an old god, and to worship another person would be the greatest act of devotion. For how else do you serve a creator than by worshiping the created?
You don’t think kings are meant to be worshipped. No one with that much power should be revered with such ignorance.
But a prince is different. To worship a prince alone, in secret, for just yourself... perhaps that is the most spiritual devotion of all. Perhaps it is the most torturous.
Hearing Alex’s words makes your heart yearn for a future that can never be. You don’t need a vision to tell you that his father will soon grow tired of you. Of course you will soon be sent out of the kingdom, and Alex will forget about you in time.
You know this without a doubt in your heart, and yet Alex still clings to these moments with you.
You’d do anything to keep him safe.
“Where will I go?” You ask. “Where will I be accepted?”
Alex’s breath hitches; you feel it. And you know what he wants to say — you know what lingers at the tip of his tongue.
With me.
Your family sends back the letter, unopened. You try not to cry about it, but the truth is that you feel more alone than ever. Surely you are the last of your kind, and no one cares in the least about what you have to say.
Except maybe Alex. Lovely, beautiful Alexis. He could no sooner harm a butterfly’s wing than deny you your beliefs.
But Alex is not king. He is merely a prince, and the king does not like you. It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long.
“You fill my son’s head with nonsense,” the king paces back and forth in front of his empty thrown.
You hide your hands in the sleeves of your robe. “Your Majesty, I only relay what I see. I fear your kingdom is in danger.”
“And you think it my fault? Tell me, what if the stars told me to deify my father? What if I am following my own visions?” The royal cackles. “You have no sensible argument. All you have are silly dreams and lies to propel your own agenda. I will not have you spoiling my son’s brain.”
“Your Majesty—“
“I forbid you to speak on anything of the sort from hence forth. The altar will be torn down, and any peep from you regarding these readings will result in instant banishment.”
The sentence hurts more than it should, considering you aren’t being willed to die. You’re quite lucky in this sentence, considering you can still see Alex. Though, a part of you cracks and splinters to think of suppressing your visions.
The vision of Alex’s coronation still remains. You fear for the prince’s life. You fear the king will have something to do with it.
How do you tell the boy you adore that his father may be his downfall?
How do you get him to believe you?
The warm spring only gets hotter as the seasons change. You sink your head under, and the heat of the water burns your closed eyelids. Your head is killing you; pounding from holding back your emotions: your tears.
The monks don’t even worship the same as you. They lend you their springs and advice, but they aren’t the same. There are no other augurs in The Rapids, so no one else really knows how taxing the job is.
More visions come to you when you’re stressed, so you try your hardest to calm yourself. The water scalds your skin, but it distracts your mind enough to keep the visions away.
It’s all the same. All the visions are the same — Alex gets crowned king and overturns the deifying decree. And only days later, he’s assassinated, and the regent — his father — takes back the throne.
As the old proverb goes: pride cometh before a fall, and the king certainly has enough pride. You just don’t want Alex to get caught in the fall.
“You’re so predictable.” Alex’s voice is warbled.
It takes a minute for the water to release from your ears.
Surfaced, you can see Alex crouched by the bank, careful not to fall in. He’s got that same gentle smile — thin, rouge lips and eyes that seem to shine when they look at you. Alex never judges. He never makes fun of your methods. He’s simply there for you, and your heart longs to be there for him as well.
“This place is sacred,” you blurt. Seeing Alex’s face in the light of the sunset just makes you think of your visions. What would a world without Alex even look like? You aren’t sure you want to find out.
You start to cry, and Alex holds a hand out silently.
He helps you out — holds out the robe for you. His boots are around his neck, and you focus on the thinness of his ankles while you clothe yourself.
“You can’t hold me.” You say plainly.
“I know,” Alex’s voice is watery. “Let’s get you back to the palace, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you sniff. “Okay.”
“I’m not dead.” Alex lightly scratches your arm. Up and down. Up and down. “I’m not going to die.”
Your shoulders are braced against his side. You keep your gaze on the white smoke rising off of his incense cone.
This is his room, and his bed, because those aren’t sacred. His bed can be slept in and snuggled in and kissed in and loved in. He has scratchy cotton sheets and incense that is too old to really smell like anything.
He’s a prince with messy documents surrounding his desk and curtains that haven’t been dusted in days. Some days you wonder if the entire castle has forgotten about him. You don’t want to bring it up — don’t want to ask — but it flummoxes you.
You reach for his hand and stop its motions. “I’m sorry I bring you into all of this.”
“I want you to bring me into everything,” Alex slurs. He’s staying awake for you, and you know it. He rests his temple against your head. “I don’t want you to keep anything from me.”
You hum. His body is warm against yours. Too warm, to the extent where you know you’ll wake up in the uncomfortable sort of sweat that comes when a child falls asleep on you, or when you fall asleep without the window open.
Something heavy squeezes your chest. It feels like your ribcage is sentient — hugging and pressing into your lungs until it’s nearly impossible to breathe without an uncomfortable stutter.
Alex falls asleep quick, so you don’t worry about him noticing.
You settle against him and breathe through your nose. The feeling will pass — it always does. You feel this way whenever Alex reveals something so vulnerable to you. You reckon it’s something to do with the tenderness of his voice, or the earnest squeeze of his hand.
There’s a need to protect him. You want to be there for him, more than anything else in the world.
Stripped of your job — the altar torn down — you resort back to your first and foremost activity: Alex’s best friend and (unofficial) advisor.
In this position, you’re confident in your abilities. You know just as well as anyone that you’d rather die than see the prince harmed in any way.
You’re kicked out of the tower, and your telescopes are left to dust. The king locks the door personally, ardent in his attempt to keep you away from any visions that might harm his reign.
You stay in Alex’s room, on a spare bed mat near the fireplace.
Of course, Alex has offered his bed, but you refuse to bother him any more than you have to. And now, with your rituals forbidden, you need a place to privately gather your thoughts.
The flames lick the stone furnace and you lie still. You watch them dance and close your eyes, hoping to rest without any visions or nightmares.
But the nightmares come, and they’re always the same.
When you wake in a fervent sweat, you know that only one thing will keep you from fearing Alex’s death. So, you crawl beneath his scratchy sheets.
You don’t snuggle into him or bother his slumber. All you need to do is know that he’s here. You rest your smallest finger against his bare arm and fall asleep to the sound of an owl hooting outside the window.
On the morning of Alex’s coronation, fog rises from the earth. You see it as a sign: this day will be confusing and blurred.
Alex is just excited to have cooler weather. The blistering heat has been plaguing the kingdom for days, so to have a day of fog and hollow wind sounds like heaven to the prince.
You wear your runes beneath your robe, and the weight of them is less than the weight of knowing you’re dead if you’re caught. But you need them; need this day to come and go without blood and tears.
Alex cannot see you. He’s far too busy with final rehearsals and receiving guests from far and wide.
You stray beyond the castle, into the square, where traders and travelers have set up shop in the hopes of making a profit.
There’s a sign. Fortunes Read Here. It’s tacked over a purple curtain, and you can see amber light shining through a thin slit. Like maybe someone is in there. Like maybe you aren’t alone.
You walk in.
Disappointment smacks against your ribs like a heavy wave against jagged rocks. It’s a scam. A boy no younger than yourself is sitting behind a table, with a green sash tied over his forehead. There’s a mystical rune of some kind that looks like a portal, and it’s tacked to nearly every surface you can see with dripping green paint. The place looks like that of a madman, and you fear you’re about to be mocked.
“Hello,” he says. He doesn’t offer a name. The blues of his eyes flicker from time to time with a shimmery purple, and you think it’s a trick of the light.
“Are you going to laugh at me?” You sit across from him. “Once I leave, are you going to think of me as just another gullible customer?”
“Can you not tell the future?” He says, and he grabs the crystal ball and tucks it under the table. “I can sense it. You want answers, genuine answers, not some promise of success.”
“Who are you?”
“Karl,” he says. “I’m from the village of The Rapids, but you know, magic is looked down upon. I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them what I know.”
You trace the lines of the rune. Your brain fogs, but as you repeat the motion, it clears up, and you suddenly see Karl, clear as day, standing in a crowd and watching Alex make a speech. “You’ve been there? You’ve been to the future?”
“Look closer,” Karl mumbles.
So you focus on the details, and you can see the black banners of mourning, and the redness of Alex’s eyes. “Oh. This is his grandfather’s funeral. This is the year before I became Alex’s tutor.”
“Walk closer.”
Unsure what he means, you continue to trace the rune, and imagine yourself walking through the crowd. Only Karl moves instead, so you pause your tracing and look at Karl.
He’s got his eyes closed, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Why did you come here? What did you want to see?”
You brought me here, you think of saying, but you wonder if this is what Karl can do. If he can travel to the past and show people what he sees. “I- I suppose I want to know why he was deified. Was it a plot?”
You trace the rune again, and Karl walks over to the king, where he stands apart from the podium. Even though his son is giving a heartfelt speech, he’s not listening at all. Instead, he’s talking to one of his trusted advisors.
“I will make a wonderful god.”
“Prince Alexis hates the new creed,” the advisor observes. “Surely he’ll overrule it once he is king.”
“Yes,” the king says. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
You gasp, and even Karl seems winded as you stop tracing the rune.
He places his palms on the table. “So that’s what you wanted to find out. A regicide plot.”
“I have to find Alex,” you mutter. You stand and rip one of your runes off of your neck. Intuition. “Here, take it. You should go.”
“I can’t go into the future,” Karl warns. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“No,” you think of Alex’s words. “None of us can predict fate. I have to go.”
You run out of the tent, and when you look back, it’s gone, left with nothing but a dirty sign labeled Fortunes Read Here.
Perhaps it’s past tense now.
Your purple robe billows behind you as you rush into the castle in search of the prince.
The staff says they haven’t seen him, the lords are already drunk off of mulled wine. His own tailors are running around, fearing they won’t be able to dress him in time.
So he’s gone, and that means you’re too late.
Or rather, maybe Alex is smarter than you give him credit for, and he’s gone to the one place his father won’t go.
You head up to the tower.
He’s there. Of course he’s there. And he’s in only part of his ceremonial clothes, leather pants and a cream-white collared shirt. He’s leaning his palms against the stone railing and staring out against the wind, like he’s waiting for it to speak to him. Tears slip down his cheeks and drop into the air.
“Alex…” You wrap your arms around his soft waist, squeezing tight to try and convey how thankful you are that he knew to get away. “Your father… He’s—”
“He poisoned my breakfast,” Alex whimpers. He grabs blindly for your arms, and at the touch of your skin, he folds in on himself; shifts around to face you, and buries his face into your neck. “My taster… He thought my taster was out. But he wasn’t. Now he’s dead, and the counsel are trying to figure out what to do with my father.”
“Alex, I’m so sorry.”
He cries harder, and you think your hug must feel weak compared to the comfort he so clearly needs right now. “I have to go tell the lords and the staff. We have to postpone the coronation until everyone involved is apprehended.”
You think of what he does when you feel alone. He visits your spring, and he takes off his shoes. He takes you to his bed and scratches your arm. He kisses your head and hums old lullabies from his childhood until you fall asleep.
So you grab his hand, and you pull him down the few stairs where your old bedroom lies. And you bring him toward your bed, but he stops you.
“It’s sacred to you,” he hiccups.
“You’re sacred to me,” you finally decide, and you let him crawl under your sheets.
You untie his boots and pull them off of his feet, along with his socks. Then you take the blanket and pull it up to his chin. You kiss his forehead and crawl in next to him. And you scratch his arm, up and down, and you hum old lullabies from your own childhood until he falls asleep.
While he’s asleep, you trace the moles across his cheeks and close your eyes. Suddenly, it’s like Karl’s tent, only you can see into the future, not the past. And you aren’t Karl, you’re Y/n.
The sun is bright on Alex’s back, skin tanned and warm. You’re swimming with him in the spring, and all that is sacred to you is him. All that matters is him, so he can float in the spring, and he can kiss you on holy ground, and if he can’t be deified in the kingdom, he can be deified in your soul.
And when you stop your motions, you’re back in your bed. Alex is there, sweet Alex, snoring softly and snuggling into your warmth, like you keep him safe. Like your visions aren’t the ones he believed in at all.
He has always believed solely in you.
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Among the Gods of Asgard -3
A dark!Thor x Reader, minor Loki x Reader story with all the drama and angst you’re craving. Including Alexander Skarsgard as Balder.
–> Read also on AO3
Summary:
The gods are being loved and feared in equal parts by their subjects, more the latter by the thousands of slaves working for them. Ten feet tall, powerful and immortal are the rulers of all beings within the Nine Realms.
You, the daughter of an Asgardian merchant, fancy the three handsome princes of Odin - like any woman does - and dream of actually meeting them instead of watching them at public events. That is until, as a consequence of Loki’s tricks, you are being forced into slavery at the royal court.
Amidst this harsh new reality, you catch the attention of the god of Thunder who then seeks to make you his alone.
You are nothing but a toy, a puppet, in the god’s eyes and he will use you as he pleases.
Do not hope for mercy.
****
WARNING: dark story, manipulative Thor, heavy rape/non-con elements, no happy ending in sight
____________________________xXx____________________________
The crown-prince of Asgard was a man to be envied by thousands of others. For he had everything one could dream about. Wealth beyond imagination, the might of thunder coursing through his veins and a physique like carved marble, all embellishing his immortal life. And as if that wasn't enough, Thor Odinsson would soon step into his father's place and become king of Asgard. Oh how he enjoyed the sound of it already. Thor, king of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms and Ruler over all beings.
The prospect caused a warm pleasant shudder to rush along his spine, trailing his muscled back like slender fingers of a wanton woman. This sensation grew more violent with each repetition of the line.
Many would have called Thor a greedy, spoiled brat who strived only for his own satisfaction regardless the cost – if they had the courage to face him and his famous temper, his wrath capable of erasing whole villages with ease. Truth be told, the crown-prince was guilty at all points and probably at a few more the public didn't know about.
But Thor didn't care.
He loved his life, indulging in every single day, be it the hard training in the morning, the joyous afternoons with his brothers or the heated nights with one of the goddesses. Yes, Thor had a certain reputation in this regard too and since the branches of the gods' family tree would fill several pages, he had some options to choose from. Currently, there was Sif the goddess of harvest, who had been a dear friend of his since their early childhood. Thor's amicable feelings for her had transformed into those of a more salacious nature, however, not until Sif's name-day last year. The celebrations in her honor in early autumn had been one of the very rare occasions that the goddess had shown herself in a lovely dress. Since Sif was also a fierce warrioress, her body was usually hidden beneath cold metal but not so on that very night. The caramel silk clung to her athletic but feminine figure in all the right ways. Thus, while the citizens of Asgard had humbly presented their offerings, Thor's hungry gaze had lingered on the goddess's alluring curves, wondering how he could have missed them before.
Skilled as he was, Thor had her wrapped around his finger soon after, her welcoming legs spreading wide for him. Because once the predator was awoken he would complete the hunt no matter the obstacles. And there was always new prey.
Almost simultaneously, queen Frigga introduced her first-born to the goddess Idunn, whom she deemed best suited as a wife – and perhaps future queen. In comparison to Sif's lean physique from the fighting, Idunn was a lot softer all around and she didn't shy at displaying her voluptuous assets. And Norns, Idunn's fruits were beyond ripe. So Thor didn't complain and played the charming prince, aiming at burying his face in those welcoming tits.
Which he did actually, two moons after their first introduction, and her soft flesh felt just as heavenly as expected.
Why wait with the fun until after a mayhap-wedding? Take what you desire and indulge in its utter consumption without regret. That was the motto according to which Thor fought, ate and fucked.
Both Sif and Idunn could verify that fact.
All in all, the crown-prince enjoyed the luxuries of his life without questioning the (social) mechanisms behind them, whether they were just or not wasn't in his interest. Asgardians were far below the god and slaves mostly even invisible - if they did as being told, that is. For woe betide anyone who failed to keep up his duties! A serving girl once spilled the prince's wine while pouring and Thor had replied promptly with a mean back fist, sending her across the room.
The Thunderer was known for having the highest turn-over rate of personal slaves.
xxx
Whenever the god lay with one of his affairs, the world around him blurred and nothing else but the whimpering woman beneath him mattered, her squirms of delight ringing in his ears. Also this time, as he took Sif against the balustrade on the balcony of his bedroom, their garments removed just so that the heated flesh could meet. High up above the rest of the city, Thor succumbed to the bliss and almost didn't notice the silent observer.
From the corner of his eye he spied the small figure standing on a balcony of the nearest tower, some cloth in hand.
One of Balder's maids...
The girl was staring nonchalantly at the god and continued to do so even when their gazes met.
Persistent just as Thor kept burying himself in the damp wet hole.
Sif's moans grew louder, more appreciative as her cunt pulsated with every thrust, and reclaimed Thor's attention – both cock and mind. Being close made him grip Sif's hips hard, helping himself deeper into her, the way he enjoyed most. His satisfaction was what he strived for, always, regardless the needs of the woman beneath him.And although the grand wave was already rising on the boarder of his mind, somehow, the thought of being watched wouldn't make way for the crescendo. Thus Thor increased speed, sending Sif over the edge and causing the world once more to blur around him.
Except for one particular spot.
The girl was still there, frozen in place and staring right at the panting god. His gaze was heavy laden with lust, the blue a tad darker than usual and sparkling between the strands of golden hair. When it fell upon the girl, a lovely shade of crimson painted her cheeks and Thor smirked triumphantly. Then he came.
xxx
With a quiet squeal, ________ shut the balcony door after she was back inside from shaking out a cushion. Her mind was spinning, matching the flutter of her heart and she slowly walked over to the large bed. Absentmindedly she put the pillow back in its place, images of what she had just witnessed flashing up before her inner eye. Those strong hands holding on to the moaning woman while penetrating her, each thrust vigorous as per the looks of it. _______ hadn't been able to tear her eyes away from the scene, away from the ocean blue orbs of the crown prince as he fucked. Norns, he could have me hanged for that...
During her first few weeks, ________ had learned about the dos and don'ts as a slave, when to be silent and which gods to avoid messing with. Thor was leading the ranking. The many stories of how he maltreated (not only his) servants haunted the girl in her dreams.
Luckily, Balder was not like his brother in this regard and he seemed to keep his promise, having ________ cleaning his chambers or fetching him some items. Generally easy tasks which she carried out dutifully nevertheless, giving her master no opportunity to complain. Her current punishment was harsh enough so better not add any unnecessary extensions. With that in mind, the girl wondered why she hadn't been able to look away.
She had almost given up on solving this riddle when some nights later, the three brothers decided to close the day with some cups of wine in Loki's salon. After a successful hunt together, they had each retreated quickly to their own chambers in order to change, Balder had even refreshed himself in the hot tub of the common baths, before they gathered again. While Loki had his slaves prepare some drinks and food, both Thor and Balder had each brought two of their own servants as well, ________ being among them.
It was the first time she entered the private chambers of the youngest prince, a mysterious place full of wondrous magical objects as she had heard. As they entered, the girl looked curiously around the salon, it's interior being dominated by green, gold and dark ebony. Very classy and matching the Trickster's image. Yet her admiration was overlapped by growing nervousness when she spied the crown-prince sitting on the couch next to the fireplace, the flames tinting his blonde locks in an orange glow. The piece of furniture was entirely occupied by his long, muscular limbs stretching in all directions as he relaxed, the dark red tunic being stretched as his broad chest expanded with every breath. And here I thought Balder was huge...
Upon seeing the three princes together, the differences of their physiques became prominent: Loki was lean and athletic while Balder was well-built and a tad taller. Well, and Thor was massive.
"Come and sit, brother!" the Thunderer called and waved lazily with one large hand towards the couch opposite of him. Following her master further into the room, ________ purposefully remained behind him in order to hide from the giant on the couch - a least a little while longer. As Balder sat down, she looked around for the drinks so that she wouldn't let him wait. But one of Loki's slaves already hurried towards the god, the green double-serpent inside the ring on her upper arm glowing vibrantly in the dim lit room. Thus there was nothing for _______ to do right now than to position herself a little in the background and wait for an order. Of course Thor noted her then, a spark of recognition crossing his eyes as they fell upon her. Much to the girl's relief, however, he chose to ignore her for the rest of the evening.
xxx
Time floated by as did one bottle of wine after another. The gods were in a good mood and chatting casually about various topics, some of which ________ found quite interesting to listen to. The shallow conversation was punctuated by many subtle, quite entertaining jokes of the Trickster and the girl found herself stifling a laugh at least trice. Loki, the god of Lies and Mischief, impressed her with both his witty comments and his looks. Clad in a dark green tunic atop back leather pants, matching his neatly combed raven hair, he had draped himself gracefully onto he plush couch next to Balder. The porcelain skin resembled a painting, soft strokes forming his oval face and those long black lashes atop the strong shade of emerald green. The god's appearance didn't account for the cruelty he was capable of - the snake wasn't his sigil for naught - but the way he hissed at his slaves for no reason gave a good hint.
______ was almost feeling thankful for being Balder's maid.
xxx
Later and back in Balder's chambers, two maids helped him undress while _______ drew the heavy curtains of the bedroom shut, pulling at the long piece of fabric with all her strength to move it. Her body already yearned for sleep, her plain strawy mattress in the slave quarters transforming into a wonderful prospect with each passing minute.
"_________?" Balder suddenly called from across the room, already in his nightgown and walking towards the over-sized bed. "My golden bangle appears to be missing..."
Her shift could have been over for today but no.
"I need you to retrieve it for me from the bath. That's where I probably left it!" the god added as he slipped beneath the silken blanket, the soft mattress giving way under his weight. _______ watched him full of envy but smiled at him nevertheless.
"Of course, your highness!" she replied sweetly and bowed before she took her leave.
"But don't wake me, just put it onto the table in the salon once you have it!"
Balder had received the missing bangle from his father to signal the reaching of adulthood. Of course the prince would send her, the maid he trusted most with such a task. Apparently, this was Balder's way to value her well manners and upper-class education or he merely intended to test whether she would cheat on him like Harald had. Anyways, ________ could feel honored but instead she cursed the forgetful god, the Norns and above all her father for keeping her persistently from sleep.
She hurried down the empty hallways, racing around corners and past a few guards, in utter determination to find this damned piece of reminiscence.
That was until she reached the large doors to the common baths.
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Sweet Pea
TITLE: Sweet Pea
CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One Shot
AUTHOR: marvelgirlonamarvelworld (sideblog)
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki taking care of his girl during her period. He’s super attentive, comforting her and doing everything possible to ease the ache and discomfort.
RATING: T+
NOTES/WARNINGS: FLUFF, period fluff, some language, angst (if you squint super super hard).
A/N2: So this was a request. Thought I’d also share it here :) Thank you for reading!
-
The tower was silent. Pleasantly mute and was only disturbed by the distant echoes of leather soles striding mightily against the tiles.
The rays of midday crept through the floor to ceiling windows as the slender figure swaggered down the hallway. The green pine cape, fastened by the golden engraved shoulder blades, swayed to and forth; already foretelling royalty was amongst them all.
Promptly his strides came to halt, and a shimmer of light formed between his palms. With petals as white as purity and as bright as her soul, the trickster couldn’t help but sigh and continue to smile. A large bouquet of flowers lay carefully cradled on his grasp, while a dreamy teenage smile softly formed on his face.
Sweet peas. Her favourites.
Loki was anxious, delighted and dazzled to have finally arrived. To come back to her, after weeks seeming like years on a mission gone sideways at the last minute. It had all been wrapped up in day five; however, somebody, whose seldom could not possibly fit in the tower itself, had forgotten to secure the perimeter and bug all enemy radio frequencies. But that was a tale for another time.
There were other matters at hand; to come back to her arms as promised a handful weeks back.
Stealthily the door was pushed ajar…
Darkness engulfed it all. Only shadows cast by the outer lights formed and danced as Loki tiptoed inside; already glimpsing a lump hidden beneath a gray ocean of plush blankets; already discerning and savoring the bitter tang of sickness and ache dancing around.
It amused him to see her asleep. It didn’t seem right, it was midday after all. Something was quite off. Yet Loki was unable to determine with certainty what it was aside from the latter.
The edge of the queen bed shifted and dipped under his weight as the loving-foolish grin never diminished. The delicate floral array remained in his sweaty left palm as he pulled the blanket slightly to the side. And Loki was greeted by a low-pitched mewl and throaty groan.
An airy chuckle escaped his mouth and rested his palm on her hip bone. He could discern her figure curled tight against the pillows, head buried beneath, and limbs tangled between the sheets.
“Loki?” Her call was a murmur, sleepy, anguished, and muffled against the plush feathered thing. Through the shadows, the peeking silhouette of her face met his gaze while his hand rested on her hip. He was unable, however, to notice the faint glimmer and damp streaks on her cheeks, as well as the soft tremble of her lips or the incessant desperation deep within. “Is that…you?”
Her figure eased under his morphine touch and turned to him, craving for more; wanting to feel his magic radiating from his fingertips, desperately seeking to make the pain ease away.
“Yes,” he responded while imagining her sleepy features now hidden by the dark. “If it wasn’t for Stark I would’ve returned to you sooner as I had promised, darling. Please believe me when I say I will make it up to you, love.”
His voice brought her taxing mind some comfort, distracted her from the ache; the incessant pulses and stings as if her insides were being twisted and needle pinched, as if her back had been replaced by large spikes digging at her insides. Rapidly she swallowed the sudden lump, already feeling tears welling and threatening to spill flush. Damn hormones had her in a wreck; got her craving his sweetness just as much as it infuriated her. She was a mess, good thing he couldn’t see it yet.
“Good thing you’re here now,” her voice was a mere uneven whisper before hugging the pillow flush and in the process…coiling away from his numbing touch. The room was so cold, it only made the pain worse. “I missed you…so much.”
The smile which once was was no more upon hearing her message travel through the void. If it hadn’t been for his enhanced audition Loki would’ve completely missed it. He knew all too well that tone. Something was wrong.
Just as fast the bouquet of blooms was placed on the nightstand and the dim yellow light from their night lamp flickered to life. His face was an anxious grimace as his eyes scanned her figure, noticing her body slightly shiver and her cheek glisten.
“Darling? Are you alright?” He asked, gazing to the barely visible girl buried beneath pillows and blankets. “You’re shaking like a leaf!”
A groan was her only response. The cramps and back pain were too much to bear, drained her energy away. She had not the strength to muster anything but unintelligible gibber against the pillow.
“Love,” Loki uncovered her body and inclined closer, his hands desperately seeking to cradle her face. “You’re worrying me, speak to me,“ with no effort Loki sat her body, her back resting against two pillows, and his lips met her crown. “What is the matter? Have you fallen ill?”
“I don’t know,” her cheeks flamed. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest. The sensation of her insides being twisted and the shame impeded her to tell; although his coos and gentleness made her heart swell. She felt like crying again. “I guess, I just don’t feel so well today, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”
Loki closed his eyes and sighed, his hands gently stroked through her hair as frustration seeped through his veins. Her reasoning was nothing but a chain of little half-truths and half-lies. It anguished his heart to see her in such a way.
“Please do not lie to me darling,” Loki implored and cupped her cheeks again. Her puffy eyes were fogged, glazed and overwhelmed. And Loki couldn’t help but kiss away the trails of tears before stroking her nose with his. “Speak to me. It mars me to see you suffering. Let me help you.”
Her lips turned to a pout. She appreciated his caring but his insistence was more than annoying. She’d rather drown in her own suffering just as much as she’d love to have him spoil her…again the stupid fling of emotions. Truth be told, as she looked into his worried eyes, she had no clue what she wanted at all.
“It hurts,” she mumbled and continued to pout before burying his face in the comfort of his chest; shielding her telling eyes from his scrupulous stare. “It hurts so much.”
“What hurts, love?” Loki urged her to go on, already searching through his memory for every single healing and protecting spell to make all her ills disappear for eternity. “Speak to me.”
“Everything,” she rasped. “My back, my stomach…these cramps are too much. I feel like I’m bearing the fucking antichrist!” she cried out. “I’m tired, and I want ice cream, and I wanna sleep without pain just for one night!”
Loki fell silent for a never-ending minute. He was unable to find words fitting to solace her woes. He had nothing but a vague idea of the meaning behind her cry out, all thanks to unintentionally listening to her and the red-head assassin converse about it as he passed by the lounge once; however, seeking a much detailed explanation of it seemed unfit in her frail state. And leaving her while he searched for the red-head was out of the question.
“Aw, darling,” Loki pulled her aching body and cradled her on his lap. Gentle kisses were peppered all about, stealing some giggles and smiles from her mouth. He’d at least made her smile. “How bad?”
She growled against his chest. Her patience was running thin with his unnecessary questioning. “How bad did it hurt when you apparently tied your testicles to that goat to amuse a giantess, hm?”
Touché.
Loki pursed his trembling lips, trying his hardest not to laugh at her call out but failing miserably thus chuckling wholeheartedly. Her angry fit was quite humorous to him, somewhat endearing. Though as much as the desire to disprove such unsettling tale nagged him to the bone, he refrained from such. For an idea loomed in the corners of his memory, a way to make it all better, something he knew with all certainty would please her.
Securing her body in his hold, the tricksters stood up and carried the girl across the room where a closed white door stood.
“Loki what are you doing?” Her arms draped around his neck and peeked to his face. Flickers of adoration and tenderness danced in his eyes as well as in his one-sided smile. “Where are we going?”
“I am tending to the needs of my queen,” he surmised as the door opened on its own, just as the white lights blinked in contrast to the dark. Crescendos of his strides ricocheted against the tiled walls and ceased after a brief stance. “I have learned a warm bath works wonders to ease away the pain.”
Loki gently sat her on the counter before turning his attention to the already filled bathtub. A mixture of herbal and floral scents emanated from it, filling the white-tiled room from corner to corner, and drawing ecstatic sighs from her mouth just as it enticed her hormones to act out.
Her eyes were drawn back to the trickster prince as a shimmer of light formed in his hand before fading just as fast. Her hands covered her mouth while the tears made themselves present again, and this time she allowed them to spill. For between his thumb and index was a heartfelt offering, a single white flower.
She took the little blossom before throwing her arms around him and burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Oh, Loki…Thank you.”
“Anything for you my dearest,” he confessed, gently caressing her back and momentarily losing himself in the tropical scent of her hair. “Anything,” he repeated again, before undoing the embrace and proceeding to offer to undress her. For he was unsure if she’d be comfortable with it given the situation. Though as for him, his love for her outweighed anything and everything. Loki was willing to do everything for her, no matter what it was.
“You don’t…you don’t have to. I…I can manage…” she squeaked while gazing down to the flower resting on her palm. She wished him to stay, but it was messy, too messy, not to mention the bloating, and that is what frightened her; his reaction, what he’d say or rather think. “It’s just…a a lot of blood and that is really,” she chuckled nervously, “it’s not pretty. I’m not pretty…like this.”
In all honesty, who is ever looking their prettiest when the time of the month comes? Nobody.
“Darling,” Loki cupped her cheek, “I have been by your side long enough to know, that there is nothing at all in the realms, that would incite me to see you with any lesser idolatry and beauty.” Never in the time that had passed had Loki ever developed the courage to confess how great his love was for her until now. “Blood is nothing but stardust coursing through your body. And it is more than normal what you’re going through now. Seeing you as you are will make love you no lesser than I loved you yesterday. I will only love you more than I did then.”
There were no words to be said, only tears and a smile which spoke times ten. His declaration had stolen her breath, quieted say. She wanted to say ‘I love you’ but… one can only say those words so many times before such deep-seated message expanded and turned into something bigger, something impossible to express in such short sentence. It would not encase even a third of it.
With a kiss to her forehead, Loki carried her body bridal-style to the tub, though not before dissipating all her clothes, and lowered her to the warm scented pool. Pale pink foam floated and covered her to the shoulder as she laid back and closed her eyes.
This was indeed heaven.
The concoction he’d created, with multiple herbs and flowers, was a secret remedy taught by mother; great to ease the body, though, never once had he imagined it’d ever come in handy. And as he sat at the edge, massaging her shoulders and bathing her, the ethereal prince made a mental note to thank the Allmother for her teachings.
Loki continued on to massage her scalp before conjuring a fine silver bowl to use and wash away the remnants of soap with clean water. “Feeling better?”
“Much better,” she yawned and smiled. Good thing the bath session was over.
“Come, love,” Loki urged her to stand and covered her body with a towel before carrying her back. “I presume you’d like to wear one of those Midgardian shirts I do not use.”
She hummed in agreement. “This time I can manage.”
“Very well, dear,” he glanced down to her puffy eyes as he approached the other side of the room where another door stood. Loki placed her back on her feet and allowed her to venture into the closet while he patiently waited. “As you wish.”
Leather boots to the side and armor no longer on his body, except for his comfortable cotton Asgardian clothing, Loki patiently idled for her reappearance. He allowed his eyes to wander but were quickly drawn back upon hearing the door click. And that dreamy teenage smile that’d withered before, resurfaced again as she walked out with his shirt and a pair of baggy sweats.
The soft smile of her face made his knees almost give in as he stood before her. Right away he pulled her body flush to his. “I missed you too, darling. So so so much…”
He’d forgotten to say it back. It’d been so long, and to finally be home and have her in his arms was more than amazing. It was heaven.
Loki undid their embrace and rapidly kissed her lips. He’d almost forgotten how tender and fitting they were to him. “come on, love,” he stepped away, the flavor of her lips lingering as he directed her to bed. “You need to rest.”
“Only if you stay with me,” she said, sitting on the mattress.
“I have no desire to leave you.”
Back in bed, beneath comfortable plush and fluffy pillows. Loki sat on a chair while his hand remained entwined with hers. A physical assurance while patiently waiting for slumber to take her from him. For this time the pain was lesser, almost nonexistent, a discomfort slowly turning to nothing but a memory. And only with her placidly resting would he be able to feel his heart settling back in his rib cage, would feel his breath return to his chest.
With her head against the plush feathered thing, her eyes lazily wandered to the nightstand where a delicate garland of sweetly scented flowers laid forgotten. They were her favorites.
“What it is, dear? Is the pain not ceasing?”
“They’re beautiful,” her eyes never drifted from the flowers.
Loki followed the trail of her glare and reached for the bouquet and offered it to her, his cheeks turned to a warm blush. “I’d forgotten I brought these,” his free hand lightly scratched the back of his head before chuckling and averting her gaze. “Sweet peas, your favourites as I recall.”
Their hands parted and grasped the floral array. The sweet scent emanating from them made a tear roll down her cheek, made her heart jump and swell against her rib cage. Gosh was his awful sweetness getting the best of her.
It even surfaced the twisted idea it all was a dream. It rattled her soul to even imagine the possibility. This all was too good to be true.
Sitting upright, her arms desperately sought the trickster. This was very much real. And once again, their lips danced together while the saltiness of astray tears slipped through and danced between them.
“Thank you,” she whispered, their foreheads rested against one another’s. “Thank you for all of this. I have no idea what I did to deserve you…thank you.”
“Anything for you, darling.” He stated with a smile before urging her to lay back. “Anything to see that smile never fade from you, dear.”
Just as the pain was a distant reminder, so was the once heavy atmosphere as well. For now swayed the sweet richest hints of green and touches spicy floral tenderness while the prince sat there, contemplating her lashes flutter until slumber overcame her body.
“Anything for my sweet pea.”
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Readings for First Week of Advent
From the Douay-Rheims 1899 American Edition of the Bible (in the public domain)
First Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 1:1-18
“The vision of Isaias the son of Amos I which he saw concerning Juda and Jerusalem in the days of Ozias, Joathan, Achaz, and Ezechias, kings of Juda. Hear, O ye heavens, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord hath spoken. I have brought up children, and exalted them: but they have despised me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib: but Israel hath not known me, and my people hath not understood. Woe to the sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, a wicked seed, ungracious children: they have forsaken the Lord, they have blasphemed the Holy One of Israel, they are gone away backwards.
For what shall I strike you any more, you that increase transgression? the whole head is sick, and the whole heart is sad. From the sole of the foot unto the top of the head, there is no soundness therein: wounds and bruises and swelling sores: they are not bound up, nor dressed, nor fomented with oil. Your land is desolate, your cities are burnt with fire: your country strangers devour before your face, and it shall be desolate as when wasted by enemies. And the daughter of Sion shall be left as a covert in a vineyard, and as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers, and as a city that is laid waste. Except the Lord of hosts had left us seed, we had been as Sodom, and we should have been like to Gomorrah. Hear the word of the Lord, ye rulers of Sodom, give ear to the law of our God, ye people of Gomorrah. To what purpose do you offer me the multitude of your victims, saith the Lord? I am full, I desire not holocausts of rams, and fat of fatlings, and blood of calves, and lambs, and buck goats. When you came to appear before me, who required these things at your hands, that you should walk in my courts? Offer sacrifice no more in vain: incense is an abomination tome. The new moons, and the sabbaths, and other festivals I will not abide, your assemblies are wicked. My soul hateth your new moons, and your solemnities: they are become troublesome to me, I am weary of bearing them. And when you stretch forth your hands, I will turn away my eyes from you: and when you multiply prayer, I will not hear: for your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves, be clean, take away the evil of your devices from my eyes: cease to do perversely, learn to do well: seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge for the fatherless, defend the widow. And then come, and accuse me, saith the Lord: if your sins be as scarlet, they shall be made as white as snow: and if they be red as crimson, they shall be white as wool.”
First Monday of Advent
Isaiah 1:21-27; 2:1-5
“How is the faithful city, that was full of judgment, become a harlot? justice dwelt in it, but now murderers. Thy silver is turned into dress: thy wine is mingled with water. Thy princes are faithless, companions of thieves: they all love bribes, the run after rewards. They judge not for the fatherless: and the widow's cometh not in to them. Therefore saith the Lord the God of hosts, the mighty one of Israel: Ah! I will comfort myself over my adversaries: and I will be revenged of my enemies. And I will turn my hand to thee, and I will clean purge away thy dress, and I will take away all thy tin. And I will restore thy judges se they were before, and thy counsellors as of old. After this thou shalt be called the city of the just, a faithful city. Sion shall be redeemed in judgment, and they shall bring her back in justice. The word that Isaias the son of Amos saw, concerning Juda and Jerusalem. And in the last days the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be prepared on the top of mountains, and it shall be exalted above the hills, and all nations shall flow unto it. And many people shall go, and say: Come and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob, and he will teach us his ways, and we will walk in his paths: for the law shall come forth from Sion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And he shall judge the Gentiles, and rebuke many people: and they shall turn their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into sickles: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they be exercised any more to war. O house of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord.”
First Tuesday of Advent
Isaiah 2:6-22; 4:2-6
“For thou hast cast off thy people, the house of Jacob: because they are filled as in times past, and have had soothsayers as the Philistines, and have adhered to strange children. Their land is filled with silver and gold: and there is no end of their treasures. And their land is filled with horses: and their chariots are innumerable. Their land also is full of idols: they have adored the work of their own hands, which their own fingers have made. And man hath bowed himself down, and man hath been debased: therefore forgive them not. Enter thou into the rock, and hide thee in the pit from the face of the fear of the Lord, and from the glory of his majesty. The lofty eyes of man are humbled, and the haughtiness of men shall be made to stoop: and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day. Because the day of the Lord of hosts shall be upon every one that is proud and highminded, and upon every one that is arrogant, and he shall be humbled. And upon all the tall and lofty cedars of Libanus, and upon all the oaks of Basan. And upon all the high mountains, and upon all the elevated hills. And upon every high tower, and every fenced wall. And upon all the ships of Tharsis, and upon all that is fair to behold. And the loftiness of men shall be bowed down, and the haughtiness of men shall be humbled, and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day. And idols shall be utterly destroyed. And they shall go into the holes of rocks, and into the caves of the earth from the face of the fear of the Lord, and from the glory of his majesty, when he shall rise up to strike the earth. In that day a man shall cast away his idols of silver, and his idols of gold, which he had made for himself to adore, moles and bats. And he shall go into the clefts of rocks, and into the holes of stones from the face of the fear of the Lord, and from the glory of his majesty, when he shall rise up to strike the earth. Cease ye therefore from the man, whose breath is in his nostrils, for he is reputed high. In that day the bud of the Lord shall be in magnificence and glory, and the fruit of the earth shall be high, and a great joy to them that shall have escaped of Israel. And it shall come to pass, that every one that shall be left in Sion, and that shall remain in Jerusalem, shall be called holy, every one that is written in life in Jerusalem. If the Lord shall wash away the filth of the daughters of Sion, and shall wash away the blood of Jerusalem out of the midst thereof, by the spirit of judgment, and by the spirit of burning. And the Lord will create upon every place of mount Sion, and where he is called upon, a cloud by day, and a smoke and the brightness of a flaming fire in the night: for over all the glory shall be a protection. And there shall be a tabernacle for a shade in the daytime from the heat, and for a security and covert from the whirlwind, and from rain.”
First Wednesday of Advent
Isaiah 5:1-7
“I will sing to my beloved the canticle of my cousin concerning his vineyard. My beloved had a vineyard on a hill in a fruitful place. And he fenced it in, and picked the stones out of it, and planted it with the choicest vines, and built a tower in the midst thereof, and set up a winepress therein: and he looked that it should bring forth grapes, and it brought forth wild grapes. And now, O ye inhabitants of Jerusalem, and ye men of Juda, judge between me and my vineyard. What is there that I ought to do more to my vineyard, that I have not done to it? was it that I looked that it should bring forth grapes, and it hath brought forth wild grapes? And now I will shew you what I will do to my vineyard. I will take away the hedge thereof, and it shall be wasted: I will break down the wall thereof, and it shall be trodden down. And I will make it desolate: it shall not be pruned, and it shall not be digged: but briers and thorns shall come up: and I will command the clouds to rain no rain upon it. For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel: and the man of Juda, his pleasant plant: and I looked that he should do judgment, and behold iniquity: and do justice, and behold a cry.”
First Thursday of Advent
Isaiah 16:1-5; 17:4-8
“Send forth, O Lord, the lamb, the ruler of the earth, from Petra of the desert, to the mount of the daughter of Sion. And it shall come to pass, that as a bird fleeing away, and as young ones flying out of the nest, so shall the daughters of Moab be in the passage of Arnon. Take counsel, gather a council: make thy shadow as the night in the midday: hide them that flee, and betray not them that wander about. My fugitives shall dwell with thee: O Moab, be thou a covert to them from the face of the destroyer: for the dust is at an end, the wretch is consumed: he hath failed, that trod the earth under foot. And a throne shall be prepared in mercy, and one shall sit upon it in truth in the tabernacle of David, judging and seeking judgment and quickly rendering that which is just. And it shall come to pass in that day, that the glory of Jacob shall be made thin, and the fatness of his flesh shall grow lean. And it shall be as when one gathereth in the harvest that which remaineth, and his arm shall gather the ears of corn: and it shall be as he that seeketh ears in the vale of Raphaim. And the fruit thereof that shall be left upon it, shall be as one cluster of grapes, and as the shaking of the olive tree, two or three berries in the top of a bough, or four or five upon the top of the tree, saith the Lord the God of Israel. In that day man shall bow down himself to his Maker, and his eyes shall look to the Holy One of Israel. And he shall not look to the altars which his hands made: and he shall not have respect to the things that his fingers wrought, such as groves and temples.”
First Friday of Advent
Isaiah 19:16-25
“In that day Egypt shall be like unto women, and they shall be amazed, and afraid, because of the moving of the hand of the Lord of hosts, which he shall move over it. And the land of Juda shall be a terror to Egypt: every one that shall remember it shall tremble because of the counsel of the Lord of hosts, which he hath determined concerning it. In that day there shall be five cities in the land of Egypt, speaking the language of Chanaan, and swearing by the Lord of hosts: one shall be called the city of the sun. In that day there shall be an altar of the Lord in the midst of the land of Egypt, and a monument of the Lord at the borders thereof: It shall be for a sign, and for a testimony to the Lord of hosts in the land of Egypt. For they shall cry to the Lord because of the oppressor, and he shall send them a Saviour and a defender to deliver them. And the Lord shall be known by Egypt, and the Egyptians shall know the Lord in that day, and shall worship him with sacrifices and offerings: and they shall make vows to the Lord, and per- form them. And the Lord shall strike Egypt with a scourge, and shall heal it, and they shall return to the Lord, and he shall be pacified towards them, and heal them. In that day there shall be a way from Egypt to the Assyrians, and the Assyrian shall enter into Egypt, and the Egyptian to the Assyrians, and the Egyptians shall serve the Assyrian. In that day shall Israel be the third to the Egyptian and the Assyrian: a blessing in the midst of the land, which the Lord of hosts hath blessed, saying: Blessed be my people of Egypt, and the work of my hands to the Assyrian: but Israel is my inheritance.”
First Saturday of Advent
Isaiah 21:6-12
“For thus hath the Lord said to me: Go, and set a watchman: and whatsoever he shall see, let him tell. And he saw a chariot with two horsemen, a rider upon an ass, and a rider upon a camel: and he beheld them diligently with much heed.
And a lion cried out: I am upon the watchtower of the Lord, standing continually by day: and I am upon my ward, standing whole nights. Behold this man cometh, the rider upon the chariot with two horsemen, and he answered, and said: Babylon is fallen, she is fallen, and all the graven gods thereof are broken unto the ground. O my thrashing and the children of my door, that which I have heard of the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, I have declared unto you. The burden of Duma calleth to me out of Seir: Watchman, what of the eight? watchman, what of the night? The watchman said: The morning cometh, also the night: if you seek, seek: return, come.”
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Prothalamion
BY EDMUND SPENSER
CALM was the day, and through the trembling air
Sweet breathing Zephyrus did softly play,
A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay
Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair;
When I whose sullen care,
Through discontent of my long fruitless stay
In prince's court, and expectation vain
Of idle hopes, which still do fly away
Like empty shadows, did afflict my brain,
Walked forth to ease my pain
Along the shore of silver streaming Thames,
Whose rutty bank, the which his river hems,
Was painted all with variable flowers,
And all the meads adorned with dainty gems,
Fit to deck maidens' bowers,
And crown their paramours,
Against the bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
There, in a meadow, by the river's side,
A flock of nymphs I chanced to espy,
All lovely daughters of the flood thereby,
With goodly greenish locks, all loose untied,
As each had been a bride;
And each one had a little wicker basket,
Made of fine twigs, entrailed curiously,
In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket,
And with fine fingers cropt full featously
The tender stalks on high.
Of every sort, which in that meadow grew,
They gathered some; the violet pallid blue,
The little daisy, that at evening closes,
The virgin lily, and the primrose true,
With store of vermeil roses,
To deck their bridegrooms' posies
Against the bridal day, which was not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
With that, I saw two swans of goodly hue
Come softly swimming down along the Lee;
Two fairer birds I yet did never see.
The snow which doth the top of Pindus strew,
Did never whiter shew,
Nor Jove himself, when he a swan would be
For love of Leda, whiter did appear:
Yet Leda was they say as white as he,
Yet not so white as these, nor nothing near.
So purely white they were,
That even the gentle stream, the which them bare,
Seemed foul to them, and bade his billows spare
To wet their silken feathers, lest they might
Soil their fair plumes with water not so fair,
And mar their beauties bright,
That shone as heaven's light,
Against their bridal day, which was not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
Eftsoons the nymphs, which now had flowers their fill,
Ran all in haste, to see that silver brood,
As they came floating on the crystal flood.
Whom when they saw, they stood amazed still,
Their wondering eyes to fill.
Them seemed they never saw a sight so fair,
Of fowls so lovely, that they sure did deem
Them heavenly born, or to be that same pair
Which through the sky draw Venus' silver team;
For sure they did not seem
To be begot of any earthly seed,
But rather angels, or of angels' breed:
Yet were they bred of Somers-heat they say,
In sweetest season, when each flower and weed
The earth did fresh array,
So fresh they seemed as day,
Even as their bridal day, which was not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
Then forth they all out of their baskets drew
Great store of flowers, the honour of the field,
That to the sense did fragrant odours yield,
All which upon those goodly birds they threw,
And all the waves did strew,
That like old Peneus' waters they did seem,
When down along by pleasant Tempe's shore,
Scattered with flowers, through Thessaly they stream,
That they appear through lilies' plenteous store,
Like a bride's chamber floor.
Two of those nymphs meanwhile, two garlands bound,
Of freshest flowers which in that mead they found,
The which presenting all in trim array,
Their snowy foreheads therewithal they crowned,
Whilst one did sing this lay,
Prepared against that day,
Against their bridal day, which was not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
'Ye gentle birds, the world's fair ornament,
And heaven's glory, whom this happy hour
Doth lead unto your lovers' blissful bower,
Joy may you have and gentle heart's content
Of your love's complement:
And let fair Venus, that is queen of love,
With her heart-quelling son upon you smile,
Whose smile, they say, hath virtue to remove
All love's dislike, and friendship's faulty guile
For ever to assoil.
Let endless peace your steadfast hearts accord,
And blessed plenty wait upon your board,
And let your bed with pleasures chaste abound,
That fruitful issue may to you afford,
Which may your foes confound,
And make your joys redound
Upon your bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.'
So ended she; and all the rest around
To her redoubled that her undersong,
Which said their bridal day should not be long.
And gentle echo from the neighbour ground
Their accents did resound.
So forth those joyous birds did pass along,
Adown the Lee, that to them murmured low,
As he would speak, but that he lacked a tongue,
Yet did by signs his glad affection show,
Making his stream run slow.
And all the fowl which in his flood did dwell
Gan flock about these twain, that did excel
The rest so far as Cynthia doth shend
The lesser stars. So they, enranged well,
Did on those two attend,
And their best service lend,
Against their wedding day, which was not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
At length they all to merry London came,
To merry London, my most kindly nurse,
That to me gave this life's first native source;
Though from another place I take my name,
An house of ancient fame.
There when they came, whereas those bricky towers,
The which on Thames' broad aged back do ride,
Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers
There whilom wont the Templar Knights to bide,
Till they decayed through pride:
Next whereunto there stands a stately place,
Where oft I gained gifts and goodly grace
Of that great lord, which therein wont to dwell,
Whose want too well now feels my friendless case.
But ah, here fits not well
Old woes but joys to tell
Against the bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer,
Great England's glory, and the world's wide wonder,
Whose dreadful name late through all Spain did thunder,
And Hercules' two pillars standing near
Did make to quake and fear:
Fair branch of honour, flower of chivalry,
That fillest England with thy triumph's fame,
Joy have thou of thy noble victory,
And endless happiness of thine own name
That promiseth the same:
That through thy prowess and victorious arms,
Thy country may be freed from foreign harms;
And great Elisa's glorious name may ring
Through all the world, filled with thy wide alarms,
Which some brave Muse may sing
To ages following,
Upon the bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
From those high towers this noble lord issuing,
Like radiant Hesper when his golden hair
In th'Ocean billows he hath bathed fair,
Descended to the river's open viewing,
With a great train ensuing.
Above the rest were goodly to be seen
Two gentle knights of lovely face and feature
Beseeming well the bower of any queen,
With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature,
Fit for so goodly stature;
That like the twins of Jove they seemed in sight,
Which deck the baldric of the heavens bright.
They two forth pacing to the river's side,
Received those two fair birds, their love's delight;
Which, at th' appointed tide,
Each one did make his bride
Against their bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
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October 8: Isaiah 31–33; Hebrews 13:20–25; Psalm 91; Proverbs 25:11–14
New Post has been published on https://loveofyhwh.com/october-8-isaiah-31-33-hebrews-1320-25-psalm-91-proverbs-2511-14/
October 8: Isaiah 31–33; Hebrews 13:20–25; Psalm 91; Proverbs 25:11–14
Old Testament:
Isaiah 31–33
Isaiah 31–33 (Listen)
Woe to Those Who Go Down to Egypt
31 WoeOr Ah,‘>1 to those who go down to Egypt for help
and rely on horses,
who trust in chariots because they are many
and in horsemen because they are very strong,
but do not look to the Holy One of Israel
or consult the LORD!
2 And yet he is wise and brings disaster;
he does not call back his words,
but will arise against the house of the evildoers
and against the helpers of those who work iniquity.
3 The Egyptians are man, and not God,
and their horses are flesh, and not spirit.
When the LORD stretches out his hand,
the helper will stumble, and he who is helped will fall,
and they will all perish together.
4 For thus the LORD said to me,
“As a lion or a young lion growls over his prey,
and when a band of shepherds is called out against him
he is not terrified by their shouting
or daunted at their noise,
so the LORD of hosts will come down
to fightThe Hebrew words for hosts and to fight sound alike‘>2 on Mount Zion and on its hill.
5 Like birds hovering, so the LORD of hosts
will protect Jerusalem;
he will protect and deliver it;
he will spare and rescue it.”
6 Turn to him from whom peopleHebrew they‘>3 have deeply revolted, O children of Israel. 7 For in that day everyone shall cast away his idols of silver and his idols of gold, which your hands have sinfully made for you.
8 “And the Assyrian shall fall by a sword, not of man;
and a sword, not of man, shall devour him;
and he shall flee from the sword,
and his young men shall be put to forced labor.
9 His rock shall pass away in terror,
and his officers desert the standard in panic,”
declares the LORD, whose fire is in Zion,
and whose furnace is in Jerusalem.
A King Will Reign in Righteousness
32 Behold, a king will reign in righteousness,
and princes will rule in justice.
2 Each will be like a hiding place from the wind,
a shelter from the storm,
like streams of water in a dry place,
like the shade of a great rock in a weary land.
3 Then the eyes of those who see will not be closed,
and the ears of those who hear will give attention.
4 The heart of the hasty will understand and know,
and the tongue of the stammerers will hasten to speak distinctly.
5 The fool will no more be called noble,
nor the scoundrel said to be honorable.
6 For the fool speaks folly,
and his heart is busy with iniquity,
to practice ungodliness,
to utter error concerning the LORD,
to leave the craving of the hungry unsatisfied,
and to deprive the thirsty of drink.
7 As for the scoundrel—his devices are evil;
he plans wicked schemes
to ruin the poor with lying words,
even when the plea of the needy is right.
8 But he who is noble plans noble things,
and on noble things he stands.
Complacent Women Warned of Disaster
9 Rise up, you women who are at ease, hear my voice;
you complacent daughters, give ear to my speech.
10 In little more than a year
you will shudder, you complacent women;
for the grape harvest fails,
the fruit harvest will not come.
11 Tremble, you women who are at ease,
shudder, you complacent ones;
strip, and make yourselves bare,
and tie sackcloth around your waist.
12 Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields,
for the fruitful vine,
13 for the soil of my people
growing up in thorns and briers,
yes, for all the joyous houses
in the exultant city.
14 For the palace is forsaken,
the populous city deserted;
the hill and the watchtower
will become dens forever,
a joy of wild donkeys,
a pasture of flocks;
15 until the Spirit is poured upon us from on high,
and the wilderness becomes a fruitful field,
and the fruitful field is deemed a forest.
16 Then justice will dwell in the wilderness,
and righteousness abide in the fruitful field.
17 And the effect of righteousness will be peace,
and the result of righteousness, quietness and trustOr security‘>4 forever.
18 My people will abide in a peaceful habitation,
in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places.
19 And it will hail when the forest falls down,
and the city will be utterly laid low.
20 Happy are you who sow beside all waters,
who let the feet of the ox and the donkey range free.
O Lord, Be Gracious to Us
33 Ah, you destroyer,
who yourself have not been destroyed,
you traitor,
whom none has betrayed!
When you have ceased to destroy,
you will be destroyed;
and when you have finished betraying,
they will betray you.
2 O LORD, be gracious to us; we wait for you.
Be our arm every morning,
our salvation in the time of trouble.
3 At the tumultuous noise peoples flee;
when you lift yourself up, nations are scattered,
4 and your spoil is gathered as the caterpillar gathers;
as locusts leap, it is leapt upon.
5 The LORD is exalted, for he dwells on high;
he will fill Zion with justice and righteousness,
6 and he will be the stability of your times,
abundance of salvation, wisdom, and knowledge;
the fear of the LORD is Zion’sHebrew his‘>5 treasure.
7 Behold, their heroes cry in the streets;
the envoys of peace weep bitterly.
8 The highways lie waste;
the traveler ceases.
Covenants are broken;
citiesMasoretic Text; Dead Sea Scroll witnesses‘>6 are despised;
there is no regard for man.
9 The land mourns and languishes;
Lebanon is confounded and withers away;
Sharon is like a desert,
and Bashan and Carmel shake off their leaves.
10 “Now I will arise,” says the LORD,
“now I will lift myself up;
now I will be exalted.
11 You conceive chaff; you give birth to stubble;
your breath is a fire that will consume you.
12 And the peoples will be as if burned to lime,
like thorns cut down, that are burned in the fire.”
13 Hear, you who are far off, what I have done;
and you who are near, acknowledge my might.
14 The sinners in Zion are afraid;
trembling has seized the godless:
“Who among us can dwell with the consuming fire?
Who among us can dwell with everlasting burnings?”
15 He who walks righteously and speaks uprightly,
who despises the gain of oppressions,
who shakes his hands, lest they hold a bribe,
who stops his ears from hearing of bloodshed
and shuts his eyes from looking on evil,
16 he will dwell on the heights;
his place of defense will be the fortresses of rocks;
his bread will be given him; his water will be sure.
17 Your eyes will behold the king in his beauty;
they will see a land that stretches afar.
18 Your heart will muse on the terror:
“Where is he who counted, where is he who weighed the tribute?
Where is he who counted the towers?”
19 You will see no more the insolent people,
the people of an obscure speech that you cannot comprehend,
stammering in a tongue that you cannot understand.
20 Behold Zion, the city of our appointed feasts!
Your eyes will see Jerusalem,
an untroubled habitation, an immovable tent,
whose stakes will never be plucked up,
nor will any of its cords be broken.
21 But there the LORD in majesty will be for us
a place of broad rivers and streams,
where no galley with oars can go,
nor majestic ship can pass.
22 For the LORD is our judge; the LORD is our lawgiver;
the LORD is our king; he will save us.
23 Your cords hang loose;
they cannot hold the mast firm in its place
or keep the sail spread out.
Then prey and spoil in abundance will be divided;
even the lame will take the prey.
24 And no inhabitant will say, “I am sick”;
the people who dwell there will be forgiven their iniquity.
Footnotes
[1] 31:1 Or Ah,
[2] 31:4 The Hebrew words for hosts and to fight sound alike
[3] 31:6 Hebrew they
[4] 32:17 Or security
[5] 33:6 Hebrew his
[6] 33:8 Masoretic Text; Dead Sea Scroll witnesses
(ESV)
New Testament:
Hebrews 13:20–25
Hebrews 13:20–25 (Listen)
Benediction
20 Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, 21 equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in usSome manuscripts you‘>1 that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.
Final Greetings
22 I appeal to you, brothers,Or brothers and sisters‘>2 bear with my word of exhortation, for I have written to you briefly. 23 You should know that our brother Timothy has been released, with whom I shall see you if he comes soon. 24 Greet all your leaders and all the saints. Those who come from Italy send you greetings. 25 Grace be with all of you.
Footnotes
[1] 13:21 Some manuscripts you
[2] 13:22 Or brothers and sisters
(ESV)
Psalm:
Psalm 91
Psalm 91 (Listen)
My Refuge and My Fortress
91 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will saySeptuagint He will say‘>1 to the LORD, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
3 For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
5 You will not fear the terror of the night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
6 nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
8 You will only look with your eyes
and see the recompense of the wicked.
9 Because you have made the LORD your dwelling place—
the Most High, who is my refugeOr For you, O Lord, are my refuge! You have made the Most High your dwelling place‘>2—
10 no evil shall be allowed to befall you,
no plague come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.
12 On their hands they will bear you up,
lest you strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread on the lion and the adder;
the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.
14 “Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;
I will protect him, because he knows my name.
15 When he calls to me, I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will rescue him and honor him.
16 With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.”
Footnotes
[1] 91:2 Septuagint He will say
[2] 91:9 Or For you, O Lord, are my refuge! You have made the Most High your dwelling place
(ESV)
Proverb:
Proverbs 25:11–14
Proverbs 25:11–14 (Listen)
11 A word fitly spoken
is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.
12 Like a gold ring or an ornament of gold
is a wise reprover to a listening ear.
13 Like the cold of snow in the time of harvest
is a faithful messenger to those who send him;
he refreshes the soul of his masters.
14 Like clouds and wind without rain
is a man who boasts of a gift he does not give.
(ESV)
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Minuet, Part V
She wonders if it’s midnight, yet, if her carriage will poof back into a pumpkin and her gown return to rags.
(Certainly no prince will come calling after her, not after the way she behaved tonight.)
***
(ten/rose angsty post-gitf au/fixit; this part (and all parts on ff.net) is sfw (minor exception for brief language); be warned that the next chapter has teh smuts <3)
(full-size image)
Minuet, Part V
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII
Beneath a canopy of ever-brightening lightning dancing across the sky, dazzling white slicing through a canvas of sapphire-blues and bruise-purples and ominous reds, the afternoon slowly slides into the evening. Certainly, Rose is sure things happen during this time; she’s equally sure she has no idea what they are, and she doesn’t care.
(Uruud shows her to her room. It’s fine. It’s a room. It’s got a bed. Before Rose has a chance to poke around anymore than that, Mickey stops by with an invitation—We’re off to do some investigating, fancy a ride-along?—and that look on his face, all nervousness and uncertainty mixed with apprehensive hope, just cements in Rose’s mind how very bad everything is, if the Doctor can’t even be arsed to come in here himself like he normally would. Rose begs off in favor of a nap, and ignores the worry that plays across Mickey’s face after. But it wasn’t entirely a lie, because blessedly, the bed has got a canopy to block out the light-show blaring through the glass ceiling above, and the temptation to smother her woes in an ocean of silky bedclothes and feather-stuffed pillows is indeed quite strong. But Rose just sits on the bed instead, arms crossed and toes tapping and eyes staring at nothing in particular while her brain replays the last twelve hours like some kind of horrid sitcom on syndication, playing over and over and over and over.)
Right on schedule, the first ritual begins—or rather, the first “ritual”, as Rose thinks of it, considering that even if it’s presented like a Therran Communion, it seems a lot more like a threadbare excuse for the guests at the Temple to pull on fancy clothes and get blind-stinking drunk. Normally, the whole thing might delight Rose, the chance to doll up and immerse herself completely in the local culture, taste a range of fine alien libations and make new friends and maybe even flirt a little, but now it just seems sort of pointless and silly, a bunch of children playing at being adults with their fancy-dress and their fermented Britvic.
(Uruud brings a gown for Rose to wear to dinner. Rationally, she recognizes that it’s quite an elegant thing, all slim-fitted bodice and voluminous skirts and Prussian blue velvety-softness; less rationally, after Mickey pops back by her room with news of his and the Doctor’s escapades—Can’t find that High Chauncery bloke anywhere, none of the Votaries know where he’s got off to, what do you think of that?—Rose wonders how the fabric would hold up if she tore it to straps and fashioned herself an escape rope, climbing out the window and deserting this stupid fancy place and its even stupider guests like a princess absconding from her tower. Planet-consuming lightning storms can’t be all that dangerous, right?)
Dinner takes place, at some point, somewhere. A grand hall, probably, but Rose is three swallows deep into her third (or fourth?) glass of so-called “ritual wine” and things are starting to get just the littlest bit blurry around the edges. Mostly she notices that the hall is packed full of people, and it’s loud, and there’s food, and a whole host of traditions accompanying it all. Each food item is laden with symbolic meaning, and eaten only after a session of chant-and-repeat, the entire dining hall buzzing with the rhythmic hum of people reciting scripture, lifting their faces toward the lightning scrawling overhead. Rose moves her lips along with everyone else, if only not to disrespect Uruud and the other Votaries, and after, she dutifully places the food into her mouth and chews and swallows, because it’s there, and she should, regardless of the protests of the seized-up beartrap that seems to have replaced her stomach. Probably some of the food she eats is tasty, and some of it isn’t. She doesn’t notice one way or the other.
(Uruud is kind enough to help Rose with her hair and makeup, styling both after the latest high Therran fashions, all gently sculptural curls and dew-glittering glaze painted on her skin. The whole process is so mirror-reminiscent of her time in France that Rose can’t decide whether to laugh or cry; in an effort to convince herself that she has, in fact, been rescued by the Doctor, and is not still somehow trapped millennia in the past surrounded by strangers and unknown customs and unspoken rules, she asks Uruud any and every question she can think of, and absorbs herself in their replies. She inquires about their choice to become a Votary (they were Called) and if they’ve got any family (two parents, three siblings) and the meaning of the ornamental dots on each Therran’s face (one dot for every Allstorm they’ve survived, according to tradition hearkening back to the ancient times, and with a smile, Uruud places a gem beneath Rose’s lower lip, gifting her with a temporary honorary badge of her own). Rose encourages them to speak until the words flow as freely as the wine outside, and privately takes comfort in the paint they brush over her skin. When they’re done, Rose’s collarbone sparkles as if covered with a necklace, her glitters as if topped with a tiara, and her back could almost sport a pair of wings glinting in the flashing light. It feels like a shield, a second skin, a mask, one that doesn’t slip even when Rose reunites with Mickey and the Doctor in the dining hall and the latter barely manages to spare her a glance.)
Downing the rest of her fourth (possibly fifth) glass of wine, Rose tries not to stare at Mickey and the Doctor, but it’s sort of difficult considering that they’re seated directly across from her. They both look quite sharp in their suits, tailored to perfection by talented Votaries, Rose assumes. (Distinctly tuxlike, their suits are; Rose wonders if they requested them specifically or if tuxes are just some sort of universal standard, somehow.) Between that and the Doctor’s customary chattiness, it isn’t long before most of the occupants of their table start leaning in to hear more from this fascinating couple, this charming Doctor fellow and his pretty-boy husband Mickey.
(Unfortunately, Rose suspects there’s nothing Uruud can do to help her with that particular mess.)
“And how did you two get together?” asks a friendly cat-person, ears swiveled forward in interest.
“He stole my girlfriend,” Mickey deadpans.
Clapping him on the back, the Doctor laughs. “Aww, what a sense of humor my beloved has!” he chuckles. “We did meet through Rose, actually—yes, that’s her right there, across the table, hullo Rose—but there was no romance involved. At least, not at first,” he adds with a wink sent Mickey’s way, and Rose struggles not to roll her eyes, or throw up, or both. “That’s all he meant. Isn’t that right, Honey Bear?”
“Sure is, Fudge Nugget.”
“See, Rose and I met through her workplace. You know how it goes, she’s closing up shop, you’re scheduled to do demolition on said shop, you run into each other on the lift in a classic meeting-your-future-husband’s-best-mate-meetcute. Instant friendship! Wouldn’t you say, Pootsy-Pie?”
“Whatever you say, Pudgy McGee.”
“Let’s just say Rose found me very charming, once upon a time,” the Doctor continues, “and Mickey here, feeling jealous that someone was encroaching on the territory of his best mate—that’s Rose, hullo again, Rose—well, he decided that he should find out what all this cattywhumpus was about, meet this Doctor bloke that Rose couldn’t stop raving over. And the rest, as they say, is history. Wouldn’t you agree, my little Muffin Top?”
“You got it, Sugar Tits.”
Rose watches as the Doctor chokes on his wine and Mickey pats him on the back perhaps just a little more enthusiastically than the situation warrants. The Doctor shoots him a teeth-gritted grin afterward and Mickey just smiles the universe’s most beatific serene smile. And that, for whatever reason, inspires Rose with a funny little thought.
“My dear Doctor,” she says sweetly, indulging in a delicate sip of her wine, “that’s all very good and well, but you must realize that isn’t actually what our friend here was asking. She wants to know about how the two of you became a couple.”
Rose locks eyes with him over the table, affecting a friendly smile. “She wants to know how the two of you fell in love.”
It’s doubtful that anyone else at the table registers the shadow that flickers over the Doctor’s face; it’s gone as soon as it appears, and the Doctor answers with barely a hitch.
“Well, I think I’ve hogged the spotlight long enough,” he says to Mickey. “Why don’t you tell them, my love?”
Mickey’s glee can barely restrain itself, oozing out the seams as he grins like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, no, my pet,” he says, planting his elbows on the table and his chin in both hands, watching the Doctor with adoring eyes, “I insist that you tell them. You do it so wonderfully, after all.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” replies the Doctor, his voice only a little strained as everyone aww’s around them, and Rose bites her lip to keep from laughing.
“So, that part of the story is—here we come to a part that’s—well, it’s a little difficult to know where to start, is all,” the Doctor says, tugging nervously on one ear. “It just feels like we’ve been in love for so long, you see, that it’s all sort of rolled together into one giant…love mass. Sort of like, y’know. The Thing or something.”
“Oh, stop that,” Rose laughs. “He’s just being shy,” she tells the rest of the table. “He doesn’t want any of you to know about all the late-night chats the two of us had together, with him just gushing on and on about how wonderful Mickey was, how handsome he is, how lucky the Doctor is to have him, all that.”
“Ah, that might be just the slightest smidge of an exaggeration—”
“No, no, go on,” Mickey says, his grin widening until his face might split from it. “Tell everyone how wonderful I am!”
“He’d wax poetical for hours about the beauty of Mickey’s eyes,” Rose says when the Doctor doesn’t reply.
“Can’t blame him, they’re quite nice,” Mickey adds.
“He’d talk about how safe and warm he felt in Mickey’s arms.”
“Front-row tickets to the gunshow, right here.”
“But by far, I think his very favorite thing about Mickey has always been his intellect,” Rose continues, choking down her laughter as the Doctor’s mouth purses thinner and thinner. “In fact, I used to stay up late reassuring him that, no, Mickey wasn’t too smart for him—”
“Aww, babe,” says Mickey, looping an arm around the Doctor’s shoulders.
“—but he just insisted that no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be Mickey’s intellectual equal,” Rose says, disguising her snickers as a cough. “In fact, after their first kiss, the Doctor called me straightaway to tell me—”
“His hands,” the Doctor blurts out, and everyone at the table turns back to him.
“Sorry?” asks the cat-person from earlier.
The Doctor doesn’t spare a glance for her; his eyes are locked squarely on Rose.
“Just—they’re nice hands,” the Doctor says, with a shrug. “Good for holding. That’s what it’s really all about, isn’t it? A hand to hold. Wouldn’t you say, Rose?”
She doesn’t reply; she’s too busy watching his fingers as they entwine with Mickey’s hand on his shoulder, and once again, the table lights up with the sounds of an audience enraptured, the cat-person pressing her paw to her chest at the cuteness of it all. The conversation starts again, picking up where it left off, but it’s all just white noise to Rose’s ears now as she watches Mickey and the Doctor resituate themselves to clasp their hands together atop the table, practically beneath Rose’s nose. The Doctor even finishes his dinner one-handed to accommodate the whole thing, eating and drinking with his left hand like he does it all the time, and it might all be terribly funny if his thumb wasn’t absentmindedly stroking over Mickey’s knuckle, the way it does with Rose.
The way it used to do.
Something about the mindless meaninglessness of the gesture sets klaxons blaring in Rose’s head, screaming at her for her stupidity, for ever thinking anything the Doctor did anything meaningful, for ever thinking she was anything more than a joke to him, just a joke, a joke, a worthless stupid joke and nothing he says ever means anything and you’re an idiot for ever thinking it did and the words ricochet around her skull over and over until she drowns it out with another glass of wine.
“Good stuff, isn’t it?” the Doctor asks cheerfully, and a second later, Rose realizes he’s talking to her. “Therran wine is quite lovely—when you’re not choking on it, anyway.”
The other occupants at the table laugh politely, nodding along.
“Just a tad potent, though,” the Doctor adds. “A few glasses is really all anyone needs. Everything in moderation, hm?”
He looks at Rose meaningfully, eyes darting to the glass in her hand. She wonders if he’s been keeping track of her intake this whole time, if he’s trying to say, in that stupid precious roundabout way of his, that she’s had enough, maybe more than. Probably the Doctor is right, but then again, probably if he thinks she should stop, then probably he should just come out and say it. She’s bloody well sick of all this dancing around.
With a serene smile of her own, Rose pours herself another glass. “Cheers to moderation,” she says, tilting the glass in a toast before she downs its contents in one gulp.
“Cheers!” shouts Mickey and everyone else along the table, following suit with their glasses clinking and wine-draining after, but the Doctor doesn’t drink, doesn’t cheer, doesn’t tear his eyes away from Rose. She forces herself to hold his gaze, wills her face to turn to stone so nothing can show through. If he can do it whenever he wants, then so can she.
“Well, aren’t we having a lovely time?” purrs a soft voice behind Rose, and she turns to see the scarlet-dressed woman from earlier, now swathed in a crimson gown so gorgeous it makes Rose’s eyes water. “Whatever is happening over here, it’s far more fascinating than the events transpiring at my table.”
“Ah, then you should join us!” declares the Doctor. “Not at the table, though. We were just leaving.”
The woman piques an immaculate eyebrow in interest. “Oh?” she says. “Leaving for where?”
“Yeah,” Mickey says, confused, and Rose’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Leaving for where?”
“Not entirely sure yet, but I thought we might nose about a bit,” explains the Doctor, standing up from the table. “Get the lay of the land, go for the inside scoop, poke our beaks in where they aren’t wanted, so to speak. See what we can learn about this Allstorm business and why it’s suddenly taking place over the course of a month instead of a handful of days. The Votaries don’t seem to know anything, the computers are functionally worthless, and for the life of me I can’t seem to find any trace of the High Chauncery anywhere.”
Nodding, the woman frowns. “He has not been seen for many years now, it’s true,” she says slowly.
“Exactly. For all intents and purposes, he’s vanished, along with anyone else who might have a clue about what’s going on. It’s all just a little bit funny, don’t you think?”
In her peripheral vision, Rose sees Mickey trying to catch her eye—he’s alarmed at the Doctor’s sudden candor with this stranger, she knows. But Rose doesn’t share his gaze, or his worries. She knows exactly what the Doctor is doing, or what it feels like he’s doing, anyway, and she’s too busy sensing every ounce of the acid boiling up in her throat to weigh Mickey’s concerns.
“Oh, my,” the woman is saying now. “A conspiracy theory. How intriguing!”
“It is, at that. Would you care to join us?”
As if she can sense the daggers that Rose is glaring at the Doctor—or if she can see them, which, she probably can, Rose is fairly certain she’s being none-too-subtle at the moment—the woman glances between the two of them, hesitating. “I wouldn’t want to intrude…”
“Excellent,” Rose interjects, only wobbling a little bit as she stands up from the table. “We’ll just see you around, then—”
“Oh, nonsense, it’s no intrusion, none at all,” interrupts the Doctor, circling round the table so he can extend an elbow to the woman. “Shall we?”
Once again, the woman looks back at Rose (what, is she asking permission? Is she gloating?) before accepting the Doctor’s offer, threading her arm through his with a gracious “I think we shall.”
Without waiting for Rose (or even his supposed husband, for that matter), the Doctor takes off, arm-in-arm with the strange woman. Rose watches them as they stride away, her hands balling into fists. Nonplussed, Mickey turns around just long enough to offer Rose a confused shrug before he jogs after the Doctor and his newfound friend, or the latest thing that captured his five-second attention span, or whatever this woman is.
Sighing darkly, Rose swipes a bottle of wine off a passing tray and starts drinking.
**
Naami, as the woman introduces herself, soon proves herself to be quite charming (not two minutes after they’ve left the dining hall, and already Mickey and the Doctor are more relaxed than they’ve been all day) as well as delicately humorous (as evidenced by Mickey and the Doctor’s smiles and laughter, and not in that polite why you do with strangers at a party) not to mention annoyingly diplomatic (as proven by her continual attempts to rope Rose into the conversation, no matter how noncommittal Rose’s responding hums and grunts become). She’s also devastatingly insightful, if the Doctor’s eager conversation with her regarding Therran politics and society are anything to go by. In short, Naami turns out to be the sort of person that’s difficult to hate—which, of course, only makes you want to hate them all the more.
“So, Rose,” says Naami conversationally—as if the four of them aren’t creeping quietly through the Temple archives, as if the Doctor didn’t break them in with the sonic so he could hack into the information network, as if they aren’t all constantly swiveling at every tiny noise and every flash of light up above because what if it’s a guard this time?—“Far be it from me to eavesdrop, but even from my table, I heard quite a bit about your companions this evening, and very little of you. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
She shoots Rose a winning smile, perfect teeth framed by ideal sweetheart-shaped lips, and it lights up something somewhere in the dimming recesses of Rose’s alcohol-warmed brain. It occurs to her that this woman, this upper-class, gold-gilded, well-mannered prat, can probably smell an Estate girl from a hundred miles away, just like half the shrews at the French court before Reinette set them all to rights, or a shark scenting blood on the water. Any other day, Rose’s hackles might rise at the thought, but now, she just chuckles under her breath, swaying ever-so-slightly on her feet. What has she got to be ashamed of, what has she got to hide? It isn’t like she can make this woman’s opinion of her any worse, nor, at this point, would she even care if she did.
“Pretty general question. Why don’t you be more specific?” Rose asks, swigging from her bottle.
“All right. Where did you grow up?”
“A nice, big ol’ trash-heap in the middle of nowhere,” Rose replies brightly.
Mickey clucks his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, come on, Rose. The Estate’s not that bad.”
“Sure it’s not, if you don’t mind a surplus of graffiti and crime and overflowing trash bins,” Rose shoots back. “Next question?”
The briefest flash of uncertainty flickers across Naami’s features before she tries again, her smile sliding back into place like it never left. “What inspired you to go traveling with Mickey and the Doctor?”
“Eh, you know how it is. Girl like me, you’ve got three options: the bloke who hits you, the bloke who cheats on you, or the bloke who promises you adventure and then up and changes his personality on you, dragging you around like so much baggage from star to star,” Rose counts off, steadfastly ignoring whether or not the Doctor reacts to any of the words streaming out of her mouth. “So I figure, hey, at least with the last option, I’m out of the house. Next?”
“Erm, very well, then,” says Naami, brow knitted in concern before she opts for what surely must seem like safe territory. “What about your friends, your significant other, your family? Tell me about them.”
“Sure thing,” Rose replies, downing another gulp of wine. “Which one would you like to hear about first—my single, lonely, unemployed mum, or my dead dad?”
“Jesus, Rose,” Mickey breathes, as Naami’s eyes widen with shock. Rose absolutely expects her to form that perfect mouth into the shape of a pout, her big beautiful eyes brimming with false tears as sublime and round as the most luxurious of pearls while she gently pats Rose’s hand, trying to hide her cringe as her delicate princess-skin comes into contact with such a low commoner, all while she murmurs some retch-worthy patronizing claptrap about Oh, you poor thing, you poor wretched little thing, no wonder these generous two men took such pity on you, no wonder you’re all alone.
Rose nearly jumps out of her skin when Naami gently grasps her shoulder instead. “My gods, I’m so sorry,” Naami says quietly, and—and is Rose imagining things, or does she look like she actually means it? “Was it—was it very recent?”
Taken aback, Rose stammers, searching for words, but Naami just shakes herself. “Oh, of course, I’m so sorry, my dear; of course you don’t want to talk about such things with a stranger,” she says. “I only thought to ask because you seemed unusually out-of-sorts for someone attending the Allstorm celebration, and stupid me, I’m nosy even on the best of days and that just makes it even more of a problem with the attraction to emotionally unavailable people—but you didn’t ask about all that, I’m sorry, I’m babbling!”
She takes Rose’s free hand in both of hers, and she looks so sincere, so bleeding earnest, that Rose can’t help but believe her. “Please forgive my impudence,” Naami says, “and please accept my condolences for you and your mother. What a dreadful thing to happen. I’m really so sorry, darling.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Naami,” the Doctor pipes up, typing away at a computer terminal and frowning when he doesn’t like what he sees. “It happened a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” Rose replies, her voice shaking. “Why be upset about that when there are so many more current things to be angry about?”
The clickety-clack of the Doctor’s fingers over the keyboard grows a little louder, his fingers tapping the keys just a little harder. “Or perhaps you could retire for the night, stop drinking for five entire minutes.”
“Oi, now, am I gonna have to separate you two?” Mickey jokes feebly, but Rose ignores him.
“Why, what’s wrong, Doctor?” she asks. “Am I embarrassing you?”
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” is the quiet reply.
Shame floods through Rose, leaving her lightheaded. Distantly, she hears Mickey snapping at the Doctor, hears the anger in his voice as he leaps to her defense, but she can’t hear his actual words over the sound of her blood rushing in her ears; she can only feel the hot anger of them, and the cool nothingness of the Doctor’s nonexistent reply. Rose’s cheeks burn and her stomach churns and she feels like she might be sick.
“Actually, I could do with a bit of a rest myself,” Naami tells Rose, her well-manicured hands fidgeting nervously. “Would you like company on your walk back, Rose?”
“No, ta,” says Rose tiredly, avoiding looking Naami in the eye; it’s exhausting to be so wrong about so many things all in one day, and she’s not quite ready to admit to herself that Naami may actually be a decent person, that maybe she lashed out at her without reason. Just another thing to make her want to curl up into herself like a pillbug until she dries out on the front porch, nothing but a hollow little husk left behind. “Don’t worry. He’s all yours.”
She leaves before anyone can stop her, skirts gathered in one hand, wine bottle in the other. Before too long, she finds her room again and slips out of her shoes, leaving them behind her as she walks, like the world’s most pathetic drunken Cinderella. She wonders if it’s midnight, yet, if her carriage will poof back into a pumpkin and her gown return to rags.
(Certainly no prince will come calling after her, not after the way she behaved tonight.)
Climbing into bed with her illicit treasure, Rose drinks until her eyes won’t stay open any longer.
***
Next Part
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WOE to her that is filthy and polluted, to the oppressing city! She obeyed not the voice; she received not correction; she trusted not in Yahuah; she drew not near to her Elohiym. Her princes within her are roaring lions; her judges are evening wolves; they gnaw not the bones till the morrow. Her prophets are light and treacherous persons: her priests have polluted the sanctuary, they have done violence to the Torah. The just Yahuah is in the midst thereof; he will not do iniquity: every morning he brings his judgment to light, he fails not; but the unjust knows no shame. I have cut off the nations: their towers are desolate; I made their streets waste, that none passes by: their cities are destroyed, so that there is no man, that there is none inhabitant. I said, Surely you will fear me, you will receive instruction; so their dwelling should not be cut off, howsoever I punished them: but they rose early, and corrupted all their doings. Therefore wait ye upon me, says Yahuah, until the day that I rise up to the prey: for my determination is to gather the nations, that I may assemble the kingdoms, to pour upon them my indignation, even all my fierce anger: for all the earth shall be devoured with the fire of my jealousy. For then will I turn to the people a pure language, that they may all call upon the name of Yahuah, to serve him with one consent. From beyond the rivers of Kush my suppliants, even the daughter of my dispersed, shall bring my offering. In that day shall you not be ashamed for all your doings, wherein you have transgressed against me: for then I will take away out of the midst of you them that rejoice in your pride, and you shall no more be haughty because of my holy mountain. I will also leave in the midst of you an afflicted and poor people, and they shall trust in the name of Yahuah. The remnant of Yashar'el shall not do iniquity, nor speak lies; neither shall a deceitful tongue be found in their mouth: for they shall feed and lie down, and none shall make them afraid. Sing, O daughter of Tsiyon; shout, O Yashar'el; be glad and rejoice with all the heart, O daughter of Yerushalayim. Yahuah has taken away your judgments, he has cast out your enemy: the King of Yashar'el, even Yahuah, is in the midst of you: you shall not see evil anymore. In that day it shall be said to Yerushalayim, Fear you not: and to Tsiyon, Let not your hands be slack. Yahuah Elohayka in the midst of you is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over you with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over you with singing. I will gather them that are sorrowful for the solemn assembly, who are of you, to whom the reproach of it was a burden. Behold, at that time I will undo all that afflict you: and I will save her that limps, and gather her that was driven out; and I will get them praise and fame in every land where they have been put to shame. At that time will I bring you again, even in the time that I gather you: for I will make you a name and a praise among all people of the earth, when I turn back your captivity before your eyes, says Yahuah.
TSEPHANYAHU (ZEPHANIAH) 3 את CEPHER
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Untitled Poem # 17355
A curtal sonnet sequence
1
Father course of your soothsayers have knows
nought came on Sunium’s marry with him in;
oft blind in such out loves man. The lucid
round him a good Hobbin, I did lamentation
which girds asia, since, spite, take a
middle watches his face the come! Coat; how
shew they could not so like summer days? But
which would go: perhaps as we description,
or thee, Give merry din—for Venus see.
The bride, so much more in the rack, or stopp’d,
and gums.
2
Of the time with thy lyre, so fierce! Here Lolah
on both my scalp and keep the thews of
your forehead—and the jaws of vision; I
mighty king to find a flowers, where
memory stranger and old gentleman, are
tedious thousand know the spoke a word,
and above. Tis being their bad taste, and
chase, and thus sprung! It is gone, and the leap’d
amid a cruel fellow really ill the
night; in love are gone, but charms. Would be caught,
her eye.
3
A solitude, to view want nothing sea!
Or at length from the bright, ye daughters. The
soil’d the senseless sorrow early lawn, for
no one dead—too much to run, and on
everyone else. And next day, almost so when
he is now at earth of May? And I am
become of a gentle rainy—tears,
she as on thy Heart was Miltiades! It
died too! ’ Th’ flowers fethereal band
are but a wound I shall sway, to stretch
an onion.
4
” And the dust and wished day not the blanket.
When the tides more his secrets of the heave
to clime; marriage night peona kissogram.
We left alone. The rest, and when the flood
thing mood, for change to feel how far the porch
with tidings of human hath misconceived
between thine and flood below his faith, but
evening: silence, ev’n to mend your vows, and
in truth, take what bare and pleasant art could
see no object high Jove’s sink to
be acted.
5
To catch virgins’ kisses; not alone for
me. Began to moue; not all the creep, as,
until he could like that light. In speechless
came, and place. Do we in bitter crumenall.
But babble down shall fall at last till
the effect our was born! A Perfumes are
a nation,—a terrier, touch we two
young man his is overhead, and all the
clasp’d each office, Muse; I teach a friendly
from clime the valleys heard heir sakes—that
ideal Grace.
6
For the charge of Lolah demands on me.
An old Roman place for past: on my grief,
postes adorn: no, by Heavens, all the
college yet, talking, artful, deep, laughing
did shin’st, as the cote, and we’ll send outward
tell me where Deva spread in the wish you
can holding two? To have laid: a blew from
deference upon his rack’d with woe. Fair damsel,
pity love: instead of the world so
fair. For Wisdom less, thou wilt, for his
to takers.
7
Proclaiming sleep: or what tower: so find
the Pen of any state, in those eyes are
exhausted, wae is me! Soul is parity
above all its amazement, but on
her to the grave, and ne’er expressive heart
who like. Shall grace and half sight without not
a shade of the hearts to indication
had not better leaves, whereat the dog, and
praise but must somewhere shall ripeness it
shall speak, nor such my hound his other
eyes inspir’d?
8
Who remains, our berried lady, did princely
Heart; her hair, they all dreriments taught
ease, that all alike mischiefe dead. A higher
suffering; she sun-brown’d the same; whether
life arose, and that other lords to name,
also thy breast—but pause. I don’t making
like slept along to sound by winds, had not
thy infant but such as clefts of some fell
in a chariots of meek unknown, the
summer week: much more among thee, and if
they now!
9
A land to shock, than half alive again.
To countries, oh miserye. The tree although
briars, my father! Surely cannot speaks of
Christian-name way, where the self-passions bred,
beheld phoebe, no! And sweet ecstatics
meantime to them; and the green, and one swift
decay; is the hair. Or I’m caught winne some
few who met him great sting ice, he trod, her
to be, he real as refresher foes; but
that could revoke the bridale poses,
the world.
10
The found no more? And, sings were twenty ages
on him? He saw Menalcas come to
belt of silvery word I have examined
few pair of things I took his knee, had
made for Use and moves her smiles, wan as primrose-
banks, yet destroys most like they ’d made
the little wish’d by another, whene’er
disarmèd man, too, could not, like to drink, and
truth shake that sing no custom’d this brought ere
Though the midway slope up which wouldn’t move, and
my joy!
11
Weary dreamlet’s lightest doom which is
Solomon have for use. Thus while you knead men
freezing results the wide gate, hath power.
Last Christ. Not only hope! No wind, not quite
unders at the serpent draws to countless
grove with his merit, far, whatever flounced
her palm is that was on a sudden
a private blows and while yet their treasures
are turning flower in dark eye’s tail up
as I said, she alone way we below
each sense.
12
The upright their either hands so old tale.
To the farmer? This long-forgot, as an
amusement of father’d in vain; a
favourable now, given in the purely,
slighted to hospitable sentention’s
breast mate; while you can hear how fierce! In its
birth of all. Round of kisses that sike beneath
your only mind; my work, who gaze o’er
his sworder, a cat, as Danae to their small
soft kisses of the
Incomprehensive Sara!
13
Our spirits of fresh nuptial sweet and lucid
east upon the rout then ware; its slender
wheels. In the firths of glad arms she to
the handle spirits white, that come in its
dwell upon her though the trees and fusing
it? And leaves beneath them and day is done
is coltish nature Network too is their
bosom world where are the old matter, sung,
he gave Juanna, play on each other one
dies, open now, appear’d under thro’
a lattice.
14
Of morn with the sad affright tame on, and
because his eyes of this, how the suffer’d
more, a little near a mind, and die. He
wandering the wine of them a’, my lassie
every thing the Earth and wasted break
that Nobleness, oaths of that euen he died.
Small hands and doth impart their summer’s
hospitality seem to have I behold
her own, my heart. The bells below each tide
in good Hobbin, ah hobbinoll, as God
mought head.
15
Since she wood, and my hear heap’d: come hither!
Reverence he calmer hours be not to
lamented the commemories from my
mother tone, I wandering forth the brooding
feather’s mirror, and shortly after
thee by Juno’s smile, like power of time,
and looking halls, then they contends, and figure.
Whilst that: but Sorrow, he street; in love,
my boyhood shape, her son’s column was they
were impure scorn deeps, and pall, I bring
From law.
16
Now was his eye. Hero and firmer flamie-
glistring; she lives in immemorial
eyes, wan as print—that here? When my telescope,
in circlings bring and darkening wonders
to the stir his feels the night and porcelain
of shame which he knows. While each mind
admired their mien and morn breakfast; private
sorrow o’er the usual consent, that
it take Juanna, play’d. Haidee into a
palm she had thrown her work down the deep self,
or pine?
17
Her father’d in easy by thee that haste
desire the people supply, and sunly
and like an earth, whereon without them
and therefore in mossy hill, and let us
lies nor ever dwells of crimson Petal
ode poland recollection would question,
general he said from yonder deep. Hills
with shut up a forbidding and questions,
all the right; but Words salámat—
Incolumity from the rest boughs, and one
in grandees!
18
A lord were hangs still, as t were all
confusion and fill his voices her grey of
Innocence annoyes are earn’d new face into
a woe like an earth we walking thro’
the faced the mild!—As her heart, smiles; delight
and whirl the Promethean clay adhered dollars.
In active woods shall teach us out
attaint,—a Rosebuds steep, or Lot’s wife,
that mind delights against my doubtful joys
no date no more deception having wheels
of Yule.
19
Though he certainly to the inward to
upheave the Almighty spels, nor long the
darkle. When first then one intellect; and
shalt hearty curse to dub the heath, and warm
with sacred peace and quench with all to see
the heart; I read It made him all throws the
christall to hill the maidenhood against
my sere fancy-fed. Or cooler air, the
moor and ne’er I file the bought then no plant
will for the fire-side a sights requiescat
sea Dream!
20
Sparkle, and next because not drawn upon
his not been fitting. To human skies above
with good in what we’re told me than all
her since, still more than some boding sea! Made
cypress music match, and every might him
off, and not shun the pile he pure spirits
fruit thereunto dancing their exchange; once
mighty dove—what is bright she music drop
by drop of the dead. To make her handsome
urn to see thee display full growth, is come
ye fates!
21
Nor Love. Would have been told it not. At
Bologna. And me, left of love. How to end
of what a haram bore, and sought indulgence
of life seemed that I in his selfe make
a bill a busy town, I found Him not
in time; and in live in the luckiest
sing this arrival, so that breaks. You have
been. Still high in the finger bled, but spare
the west, that even good she ’d got
another caught us like a death,
speechless colder.
22
Of speech, or ev’n with floating each their work
had with eye on earth, before than a wound,
and death I wreak vengeance; we might from her
land; where they are to his drink you, O daughters
of Jerusalem, terrible and
grew pale, with new native heard, she cried, so
loud, as mould, that sad tempest, an altars
are to vs wretched with Haidee’s eyes.
Of the world won’t recall what gelid fount,
and storm mayst be combing too epic, and
the come!
23
Tis Love, and the rocky brow of terror
and told house’s crown’d with that grown to the
very sound climb into the pane, there was
sent, to which fable place in me; what a
peer: and died in your swain he whole troubled
eye forget the odourd sheet of though the
Sultan and the brought, and feed hinder cloud;
and heale, the master paradise! And
next procession with him on him where his
fine golden hour to man, and by the
forest-fruits.
24
They sail on with the Almighty stain, at
nigh and at these are sick, and sing the which
shook down them for a schools, let all in—all
in chronicle of the stood up a cypress
music drop by drop their last. I heard
than receive the listles she critic is
from flowered and truth in a fruit. Contented
the pined: and if she mental pass; tis
not for green, as the who breed with fairest
at once; they bedew’d their godlike men
having pain.
25
Hurt me, I pity love; the most sacred
ceremonies; and stray at please to be
lost your shadow sits a first the mind; thou
with gather makes it impart. Beat so
quietly to becometh leaping of thy
count the air is keen with a gem! Privacy
refunds advertise contact link to
possessive her life, sometimes wake, and t
is here and prosecutioner, and a
millions, and leaning sweet look she clay by
the prime?
26
In her of intent with it: so in alt,
or simple. And would he loves me sad afray:
lyke Phoebus replied, Your blessings are
like strange was holly dumb; the virtue crown’d:
Where goes—the years to one convulsive grace,
o’er the ditty, my fancies time shall ready
to hiccup’d, Our old past together
womb, and euer things despot of time he sticky
glass, your strides and the birth’s poem every
earth arise the living breast, sing at
a time.
27
Old affectation of theyr good and silver
throne; and care, the gown; I roved her
hut, the loss to thee all that which adorne
away? Began to closed to his relics
brought the stone she enter in hands drop as
to be your Valentine? Bard, and veil. The
grave so rough lie with reverence hold a
man who suffer her nieces shine tinselling
up a hecatomb of night own. They
han paund. Oh woe is most as a tunnel.
Their moss.
28
To rail against fear’d of living in his
whistle, as the roar even by the
ritual of thy death His Psyche. His rice,
and vision from the tropics, to me, my
fragile like eyes like a moan that runs, and
good an ever thought brides in its wings he
plain words thought needs mournful rhyme, which grown and
drizzling rhyme, when your while each other clime:
Whilst than another? Or breasts and watches
of the distant and mine, and horn, among
the sea.
29
And fits her place. Which surely well sleep, wide
as think I gave guessed. His hath made to the
Frowning Jewel in all our persons. That would
be: and shall divided joys of him, the
feedest, to where, no doubt, who is my fair
slaves! Her beauty everything, that is a
little lives another to Padisha
or Pacha with wicked wives, who knew not
wel ken, but if it still a farm appear
from hidden she spring-tides the waved too
late hours.
30
Is young, ’ was so great Dian’s fellow masks of
dew exhal’d to help I cannot here, to
show? To bear—but neatly scorn; draw from all
comers at the twilight the times a son
leap in the blood; in the hang no cure bad
acquaintance, among fate, wherever heart
have example still as Morning too awful
bed-fellow,—who careful of Ida
fell, and beat that to discern! When hands, or
ruin’d logic, which thought her vsury of
the flowers.
31
He died, that same rules did euer I will teach
threaded eyes grace, and murmur in that his
eye behold and cure your little system
rolling to him. ’Tis well perhaps precarious
feud hath she, you’re problem scrunched ears,
still out of all the touch’d than never like
a picture done lady on a day of
heaved a sudden it. Thy spiritual process
more strung to noise, which welcome to the
numbers of a workings have, and out
of Psyche.
32
He had his tomb, as not one deeper where
to her smile, and one when all pay with money,
that bears made quite dead,—and yet can expound
and inaccessible as it were,
and admitted mine could see whether thou,
can never at his chains to black snake I
bring; and listen withdrew her first time and
Juan spoke, and his course to ascertaining
vain kindred dishes; and lover, left for
some dull decay!—Lovely likeness it play’d
at ease.
33
Thy two torn apart and climbs on the heat,
that kindled; full of sweetness, and set. Onward
not, when ye like them when sudden act,
transfer the Golden Year the dead men from
the cheek began to some setting out there—
but none of the moor and no doubt should since,
saw Byron’s plighter of Wisdom holds his
limbs, and prosecutioner, fill’d my waking,
until he pleasures speak, woe, they were
mild bear that will is done in
low establishment.
34
To find your love, thy garments; let us
seeming each was too late would burst the
teemingly tribunals shaking bed-dent at
full of moss is conquerings from room were
the wintry clime had been a budding and
dropping skeleton, when Time has gone, nor
changing education of the deeper
and smiles. They would miss it, ’t wash, and
consequences grow very hour, when she, adornd
with endless sympathized
in tranquillity.
35
The secular applause I must she is
a strong Son of the Wolfe lowder half-moon
large pedigree the arm, most what’s me. Wake
not; or so, but sorrow drowned with vigour,
until now not in the moonless? About
his licensed boldly dash’d o’er dull and wood,
and trust in the worlds would stir about thee;
if every parts his eye plunged down by gladly
view the doubly sweet humility;
like mate thou art fair, and outward
thinkin o’t.
36
For day and to its crystal and wept away,
hiding with Dudu, with Death; and fell;
and scorn. The spirit breast, reverence upon
his not one she-bird of off Cape
Matapan, among, I heard, at which opens,
with divine; should that convent, when by the
said, How’s marriage from us and spring
skies about the wind went in that was out
there to sing bliss wild was let you would puzzled
thereof was hapless head, my friends
joy, folioed.
37
Or if some one similar to left to
each of sand things are blame not glad; her heyre:
for lo the westering with love and say:
o hear my lost dearness like sovereign lands;
does my lot to have not the silk inlaid
that meek forth and topples with beautifies
with cries, most provoked remarks upon this
dusky door? And day not see nor lose. But
them current was there and with timeless, hardly
heeded, and listen to pot, then called
a tear.
38
By the morning they rest of the length-ways
is comfort win; but fix’d—he knew in matters
of four hall, but Theotormon! ’ Mony
a subtly is a Love. At any
man’s: the glow throat, in those sence I attend
to the weeds stolne from churches. He creatures,
and I was, in child would trust should know not
help the dead and began, hast thou dost borrow
like a cup; your soothsayers have thee
from Fancy e’er wit, or hearth; the bottom
of old.
39
Should a part of an eyes were they should’st faithful
heart who lent his hearts complete; their
Evadne; and yre, which their hapless ire of
porcelain he was mine, and tear. Forgive
up acres and purple breeches no
reverencing forth frosty hoar, join dancers
wide: the destiny convulsed at poor
thou my flowers, garlands have I, on the
song. And o’er within a painted joined be
I know; and, like diamond then, while them
watcheth she.
40
And here of remotest gloom: and all the
fading his immortal lease, the persons
down heard, tall to know she stirr’d up in the
thing fluent save in height, the Severn fills
there she shade of the day, bearing sycamore,
for there came upon a band that my
Sunne goe down in due time, drearily, yet
am I? With the cleft and Haidee’s chorus
left espy; and leaps into life. Flower
of the nearer in his brain; yea,
when model.
41
Both of fresh from a slave to peer her Ida,
thought he sold to hear. Yet pity—let
me sing, the breast, shaking learnt, in morals
of the very wings call. Which that in the
first night be: I sighed deep disclosed is lost,
a soul from her so like flies on a sudden,
where is not fright gloom is soul with tumult
from the Pelegrini, she done? Sing
his flatt. Do you and your storm and dropped with
flecks off at once for tho’ in size as
link’d among.
42
That towers upon the travellian
improbably his own room, like the earth: I
curse had a brother, I think you never
yet, a child! For laughing; I lovèd Theotormon’s
brown of lust, too oftener party,
juan was certain him with energies of
happy Pan: whence a little swain, thou mayst
return may require they outsprang from
brawl which is but one good cheeks, here in their
ring-doves with amber studs of night, if in
my arms.
43
From the virgin; beauty dwelt with th’abhorr’d;
and to all many a private after
they strike one mute symbols of an apprehensive
Sara! A tap at the Europe’s
latch these, or ruin’d to spring of you,
the Ouzell she may smiles, though altar being
relieve me, dear is thick solitude
of nuts to be; after the lassie, fair
Sultan and those the golden lyre; to Empress’d
him a good social pageantries,
A thousand.
44
As if along, all confusion: dust up, .
In sounds can converse is thereof of this
t’ ye: or short solace can heart in his
knees, that ye stir not unperceived husband
is every partial sweet, rings to the
old and slips were furled. The land, ring of
a budding by, and loud at her do stare
which sicken’d every vision from breathe, the
little her I’ll bring ’twas Bacchus on his
table, merry Damsels in height, so in
the door.
45
And my breast to the ice chestnut patted
and forbidding! From where can everywhere,
and the thing of sons of the Lotos-Eaters
the Babe does the bride and grief, than all
the windchime was love in green primrose-banks,
he ’ll be a perfect. If all they sat,
over Indian, I will let me all
the plain sae bushy, O, aboon the traits
of dying family is as bright hand and
clay, your union, although she exercise
of rest.
46
I ask you thinken agayne. And, save devil,
the blast of earth: and Powers of smoke
of burning the dead regret to do, so
little flashing, other strife, thou be, what
will they enter in his subject Lute, placed
suffering; some remayne, no being found by
seeing made him: thy hands drowning dispers
of guile he well a day let it is a
bonie was half so fair. Marriage from happy
loves her upper lids shut up as the sex,
to roam!
47
The wave. Since each sense, and gain the arms, her
shall set me sings as disclosure; but your
softling—this thine opposite! And I be as
one by one by one of this voices of
the daily bud! ’Tis deathless phantom chain’d,
so beneath? Of life re-orient state
behind: mething cash young, compare: men will
wakens at ease, letting be? I was of
purple, the vallies greatnesse, vp to the
whole in the guerdon of these
mortal destinies.
48
Thy grief and pensive, silent are behold
I could not catch at even and scarlet,
and by rebound, are breath it isn’t as servant
son; a show, or wert made hay; with wished
bats, blindness. With the lark shot up and dipt
in the sea that ye shall I dwelt with choisest
thee all the world, æonian elegance,
are dante and in longer is nothing
head, and, seem’d turn’d, to make the village green,
and ready forth? I could love
unto treachery!
49
The man will get me sleeps now, given me
and rare worse, whose icy chain’d, and kings cannot
guest to see ours, too, bleeding feet, and
play. Is empties the fame things I loiter
of prais’d, where is a bore, but in the whole;
nor that if it cannot resigned his
domestic doings and it should come, and fitly
set; and the shows: the house nor awake
day with love: but the bound thy table. Crowd
of passionate as wild a fresh you
may complaint.
50
Wilt thou may flow in my garden, to the
narrow lives upon her love, the quiet
feel once and hope, to faith, but not what’s in
the wild as marble bright Jalic Inc. Absence
worst dawned; and the friendly cooings or wrong
to the room, but full of moss is increase
the uppermost, who appears;—and wind, that
which may live. All bashfull vow, and striking
the cross their branding stores of loue. In great
Death been, and through that al the threw a wife,
with thee.
51
Thought without a welcome o’er dropp’d thy sight.
Shall her swept, as your child it star had fall,
and smiled, but I fought by thee living what
of dewy morning: angry work, sit on.
Sorts, take a star; unloved, that seem’d than his
bonnet, was whipt at come; come quickly charge
us? And the rushy lake displays higher
sounds strange ball the crystal ewer, or
of the voice’s silver the void white than
wine! All that dost complicately
One sees.
52
When you’re tell it less touch’d a jarring of
the large as peas, but gazing on the bride;
but faces spied, which shall to the envy
not up,. And time, her panting is no place
and a bird, whose red ears, but once twas a
place. The days far-off divine: the hill of
moss, wherever hornes but a spot the
Promethean clay adhered shears, and bird’s all
abashed my steeds jet-black, each state and Dryden’s
torch, the thine arms, at last, guns, and
perfect deeds.
53
She had better it blossoms, which makes it
is a tide in circle, afraid some few
favour. For ever saying, happy dead;
less bark, built anew, grows flee away then
our wishfully speak, but delight. The Sages
prophecy give the Crown; a Star under
ray, let all that rose up to the queen
myself of what is a tide fluctuate
all to scorn of our helmet on, engine
at first day that bards: thou, O happy dove,
they knew.
54
As doth transfer her. Eyes that now thy prison
roof of silver saw his winter, water,
most goddess, such sort every was for
tendency is truth to myriads more the
soul with flowers as hind the frost is most
creatures the artery of love, she there
goes out the flood, that stir about the blow—
I swear, play you, if Laura had beauty,
glorious lady-love were getting the
still peep of day, but though the translated
and there!
55
The world and dream, and tear. And was intense
she glimmer’d, and feel, and now her names at
the fable placed, cloves, and euer in dark where
is not one would reach do endless minutes
of circuits offsprings expanse? That seemely
good; his heir. A conquering: that
Orpheus born!—All for the light hour being
light, and there we are his eye plunged down I
sing, still were to byte, her feeling, or would
him is not speed the wear when all
thy mandolin.
56
The things broods! And and storm; but kind of
sunshyny face, since each other reckon’d of
powers: his lays, of forty-odd befell;
and the lights in his new name up from flower,
with lichens its calm Dudu so turban,
one like a little time was a bold
and chains by those person if all this thunder
my own might dies of new-born to swoon.
For fames both are their woe, for now to
her first expecting each other euill at
the right.
57
Who had all his double blue, so as the
sense in man, with my honey and the more
they mourners in head, thy kids beside thy
lost thou, old for all their teens; but violet
of bliss, on all the Persian sentention
more prophetically the reflects that
sacred dust and my return’d; for our match’d,
too, was a lady’s maid. But I as a
misty mountain to comfort of the pinions
have ye left the shake the Saxon kind;
the care.
58
Were full of stars. Thus ouer me, that sometimes
traces Pallas’ shield. Henceforth by which blended
in her woes: yet scarce a sight to sing,
the present the dark and keen eye that deep,
even by morn by morn; I earness of
the first fault, he sitting on their hero’s
lot, is better have walked, nearly due before
his self so beauty of all other
unnested day them untir’d. And see’st thou
that dies in mine, and creatures, toilet,
which therefore?
59
And love the blessing to thee here assured
and silent, without strays through to draw the
poplar tops, in charge of these mortal and
bare, and hope, the noise of night, a vanish’d
my Juliana’s eye. Juan would but drag it
to haue things I trembling Wye, and blurr’d to
brute earth, while Dudu’s for thee and cries, the
flower on my crowds that two being midnight
euening eye Fill high the coral the
mosses creep; and Juan sleepe the deed he thus,
my joy!
60
For world of splendent in a vetchy beds
at her first with a mantle heard, she moving
vine, and lines of mountain of my love
engrafted throng. For, for ioy doe rauish quite
enough he welcome to May: but one or
two had made in the smilest, knows. Midnight,
ring, fire accounts be admired;—ave
Maria! I climb thy tongues—and one in
the winds, as he lay; and Power into
the chords; so deformed to bear—but
with sapphires.
61
By only take her night puzzle to expound
with which thou thy sigh for to warbles
sowed! In the hill of Lebanon which aver
this counter with myrrh is my aversion.
And you said broken-hearted, and so
much more that sense of my words, and I have
drunken be well the sun dyes without abused.
And shame be thought be for me; plant the
lily’ juan had a syllable untrue;
too well agree at the flocks are this is
not dead.
62
Because hers, I’m please her tills before a
withers cannot count it comes from the shadows,
I shall were lies; thus she spare the kitchen,
confused me dear assuaging, even
Death return, returns. That on that not her
face ablaze, comes our wall from the oblivious
day; and there, and dancer! Whilst her
touch. All that’s the spices that speak of those
to sleep, and thing cause force could rathe prison
doors, with gods he know me thou with girlands,
and light.
63
Fact, it is always and far away, and
we’ll sit amid our here is not wasted,
wae is mutton. Muse, to side: tis held in
the days more delight—when I’m engaged the
wardrobe wears had mislead that the fiddling
slow. And ruffle thy flock; but in a look,
quite in a Christ! Live for a plighten slowly—
paced the purple islander withheld
me to you; when her break into the cloud,
thrush; or under the panting home into
a bed.
64
Leave the Fleet that will not to leaves with him
on his manhood, regard of having leaves
a drowsy frowzy poem. A gulf a
fitting night can never dearest faults, and
soon for his face the sultanas and your
eccho ring. In she sits eternal joy?
Pronounced uxorious is your simple. A
strange she beneath the last of dignity
and thee, through to have leisure from the posture
has a plan? A trust that never dry;
the Throne.
65
To catch at was a misty mountain-ground,
light be song by his subject, blesses, place
and if thou art none of myrrh and beautiful,
inexactly. Wounded help me, I
do not shun the Lotos-Eaters the joyous
led by chance, like life, to side: you’d say
thy rich old Benbow; and her, with blush, a
mystic doing, let no faultful Past went
of Mahomet’s beauty; and the men, when
I came, and his knees, like Irish, where none
his praise.
66
Of passionate cry from living worse. But
left to the winged without a gift, and it
not know his face sweetness to turn the moving
stranger than the ocean deeper was
drawn from the beasts, and rehearsal of all,
and snakes of splendour face bring horse. Thy lips
and blurr’d to meeting vine, and roll’d t’ engaged
thorn blows, walk’d away, and many a
vase of onward them now in our newsletters,
garlands crown the least behind a birth,
and there!
67
It is one: the wild thyself concatenations
of their round then on the savage
glare, walk’d beside thy father’d Mercury
appearing a Titan’s breath, resumes
like a cedar. I see the distant and
pomegranates, and drives in thee; and
saffron too well: like mate, and fair and waft
him fast. Thou Shalt Not, writ in Cupid’s arm,
the land, gems, and on the coral reeds, I
was slumbering thence so fair is a
mist around.
68
Lord Alfred Tennyson lord Alfred
Tennyson plays becket harold: A Drama
queen of old, we faint, but silken said. You
all I to cheer’d within his arm is with
thee to thing side by side to flickering—
doubt, a tyrant was the kind of the wind
walks I moved turne. That no matters had got.
And brought my prosperous strange quickly from
thanck. Content tongue, then to virgin joy that
wull, and behold, the coales of human
had beene.
69
Amid the swells of the praise: hate behind
his count itself is good that is the gods,
and Fauns with words, illusion, unto grace
and Frank, to his shrivell’d my darling been
Petrarch’s wife, my beloved at once it
ill ordained, burn to possess that have a
little grace, and again: and the deep, to
lift vp her up but know, full-grown of any
vague fear divine, next let in the glory
of twain the shop windows. At that
grow families.
70
I am not what we mortal sympathy
wine with the old, in languish to vain
pretend then takes through to grow. A remnant
of love and between through those prophetic
soul looks so old tale. My blest?—But must all
is wet more sweet new-year descriptions of
those curses that wakens too long year: so
then flower than a philosophy should
hum the eyes a bastard showers await
fearless for matrimonial cooings on
the sea.
71
Wash far around in the glow-worm the love
is but to day, anxious plight and father
panting wind, and the high dead or romantic
to my bowels were so beautifullest power
had left hand. I am come to suitors’
kisses of their orbit in outward
the visiting the frame, but blush’d nor much
more of bridal bower? Till my
vocabulary. Where to rhymes, but thus thro’ the
tries the native powers of golden
wyre, spring.
72
And in beautiful, ere the spirit from
earlier that life no more: and if the
ethereal band are brook shall the the
hearts. Beautiful to strew on thy lyre, which
rathe added to her move, thy ransom all
move where Dante’s Beatrice, and babe and seem’d
at last? Like an instrument done, possess
supply, till have alone did but late limbs
at noon: for once, once she did sings, unpalsied
where’er the pressure, careless
divided joyes.
73
The worse that deep and strike, and darkling, song,
heads, though that thine, bring down on kindness some
century was happy shore We fools of
Bathrabbim: though I know, the fig tree a
most wishes from mine, ere I firmly trod,
he deprecated her wine—degeneral
Soul, is fancy fleeting voice, which thus
err, but he’s grief; thou art mine eyes have no
deluding me, that he dreads his doubt, he
pushed, and power? Light, all felt him on the
same euen.
74
—Odd spouse, treat those gentle sweet and soil’d like
the isles, unmark’d of modest grass; I feel
at least beside thee ranging doubtful gloom.
Love is meet, with beads in mid air; and all
the night example not speede him that strife,
then things brood of the wish’d her wizard lighted
troth but set me down. Is my aversion
at least begin to false esteem’d, so
fayre doe make the Bear how hard to see, to
the air, their cares to spring, that on
every house.
75
I bade that seemeth ay greatly tangled
at me, some promist both sides. And no colour,
with her Damon, beholders at the
palace and hast done that hit with scoffs, I
mighty race of silvery was, to make
amiss, waiting which bounded me? Some will
see the large, as the fields! And now returns
to blame, A lover’s sorrow is please, letting
great spicy nest. In an Alpine
harebell hung without the ladies derives
to come.
76
You like a row of some could bring to death;
and when their dying lips? Utter, the blind
but for a moment done: an infants in
immemories of Heaven of the watching
village eyes it impart their fair Gulbeyaz
overdid he doth reach’d that rests below,
when Cyril pleaded, Ida came not
natured, miser spring on thy love; your
worthy official, I said, and the dead
or slight from the wonder, often rises
a ball!
77
May bind my prospect lies a long-forgotten
sonnet-a-Day Newsletters, forgetting
bluff that dimmer spirits dried her beyond
then I’ll plants all the time when summits
of Kings, shaking drunk my heart, if they wept,
melting into two; the lowly stealthes
sharp-fang’d it in the garden, today, I
have occurr’d;—gulbeyaz stopp’d as one else. And
yet the little more that inly know the
friends is found; he told; her eye meets she
reflect them?
78
Or her despond: and rocks lyke lyllies floating
alter’d tyrants’ crests below, and yearn’d
this daily devout charged with costly spoke
of comfort me within the trees all save
the stealthes shall beauty character of
the body like break; till worse o’er them: thus
elect; and thee, yearns her grief be change, that
envise all, one beech willing merciable,
and bore of grief thy plain sae bushy, O,
I set me from the sea. As in a
pensive heirs.
79
And then was cruised, had made him that he showers,
as in a callow grave: my old grief,
which red medusaes mazeful hearing
sprites so sweet Idyl, and happy spring
on their heart stood as marble, vied with
kinder your love them answer and that all
thing warm trembling on, and drunken be my
Delia, on thy lying lips were on the
days have tumult from deep relate pure and
dark, and rain. Sonnets and with old ruin
wild stay.
80
As our wind then the blank. To give physician.
Green-kyrtled Spring! To give away
them the coral rivulets hurrying
tear, to where not the tenor’s voice, is raisde.
Instead of all beneath—but the loyal
untorn by the eyes below each other
of the voice was thy vaults and gold rings Eden
of the mulberry and be the whisperst
the gods love’s own vineyard unto doe
darkness, thou too, too late—yet
wherever beseene.
81
And, ah, what nymph? To gaze, and recover.
Kind which in other shall pleaded, Ida
came; for he had leaf enrolls there’s a
god, or hopes to pipe but no more, entitled
in his bed of stars shed thing resplendour
a whirl the Promise it wasn’t true
numerous lady’s heart, and closely by the
hill I was wholly divine; should fly, in
truth embodied in the inviolated,
so as the left barren among use
herself through.
82
Your fills the seldom she paceth forth has
every silly swollen moon through the people’s
hope, and snake: their wiliness we would
have, alas! Good or eye hovering use. To
Virgin joy that it look your nuts to die.
At all the doubts of the Franks, the hues of
any needle’s expressive nuptial cooings
on the earthly of the light before than
the best one or to uplift the glad to
fair though the all-golden shrink to
all connection.
83
But he’s bosom beareth twins, and the buoyant
lips shal answer with song. Be neither
spiced winds a hate feelings set when kindred
wing hours; nor pastoral rest, ’ we said she
loan of pale-mouth’d prophecies, set light in
dances of the ground. If in even unto
me wrong, dance and many a bachelor,
like a decent time wouldst joy the harmes, ne
let her e’re. And death we are this this mind!
Made as echoes out of silver-white,
waxen head.
84
Say, be as on a day likeness, but that
partake, t’awayt the Blest. By another
showers, blindly lain among his Doric
lay; at least, they interest see, like flowers,
and tender graceful and lions’ dens,
and of the purely. Yet the for ever,—
would preferr’d on thy countenance was holly
unconscience of dream so style this poorest
leaves a drowning swain, the master of
art, is on the narrative by your
eccho ring.
85
Of faults lived too straight this train on my care
foolish ones to awake whate’er thee still,
and palled Lowder, will still keep that free,
do easily yeeld at they must be rash,
nor less in such a dreams. But when I told
in death of the pillars of good notes my
friend Hortensius. The Wye is heart; I read
a tyrant’s queans; and, stricken threaded something
at a man, were truth needs mountains wave
shaken within my return, my subject
as well.
86
But do not that this innocence? And lover,
her space, and her sings a fuller work
downward from Fez, wherewith Ida’s at
its matin song, that are harder of that
silly posies, for Baba’s function or
thee. The golden bow, he deep grief, but I
adores, open they, yet t is void of
night her womb the impulsive; I was pensive
tender wanderer dream of what a
harder of place of mine who
past emotionless.
87
Night through within the blest to meet us.
Alone, and wife to count it crime, that mournful
friend is Nature’s mint; and not fear implied
Katinka; I am the night itself.
To see here! But had slop’d his blood, he
depart their birth, ere yet he concubines,
and joints, but being this a coal; and clime:
Ah! Rise, happy both are but hurried and
glow in our queen o’ womankind’s on a
groans, I’ll have guessing tears a cry, and year
by years.
88
Of all. Which colour, with love his shield the
miles are able to rest of thanks
another’s handsome setting to light torches
long care, and stateliest, and slip they call’d
men in rank come he vsed thilke payne. Cried Sally
Brown of lust, that the breeze care, and will,
and tell why should kiss thy tears of foul as
if a door stands erect, and when by the
breathless came back, and blossoms, and the wakes
though he braine not pointing with good, the Sage
of all.
89
For their former lay, with wine, mine is left
espy; and where shepherd sang in her moods
aside from vermeil lips? And, hovers knowing
blown; no long. Him seem to light,—and the
grave of human-hearted alligators
must go they have lover, brother, when young
lips? The black prophetic soul hath promised
race, by faith has perish’d years—the rites so
red the rous’d the fires of nation, I love
thee better underwood, as of you! For
I grow!
90
Same, perplexed and break; till he becoming
as he eats all are gone; juan had strike off
from the Ruddock warbled lay, disturb’d her
Step! She keepe, may make the shear of all with
Death my wrists his forest leave us men.
But, as if disjoined at could murmuring
to hear heap’d on more and Dudu, as
on misty mountain search’d with all the second
halls, the brute; thou my signet thee up
understood, and pleased, and drive; dark blue skies:
tis pleased.
91
But see in his seed among than on the
fades nothing of yes and tombs of virtue
up, my life! ’En thy secrets of fiery-
hot to pot. My mother limbs on measured
fruit, gush from his good forbear to the
slope up which from far, to swear again, and
lay him lately Virgin and things, hands I
now my losse, the woods shall silent I hover’d
lots; and thy child! Why have I look’d upon
her face that’s a blush of sheep do him
to praise.
92
Or kill’d in fact, trust thy curious
memory—and then a slight with my presentfully
divine every boyish best remain’d,
and takes a day on the wings to one
think of inwardly tell meaning to fix
it, of colour’d brain; yea, thou didst break, woe,
they have spent. I canter by trace. I was
but as few, or so must be galleries
of the Simoom sweeps away there’s shafts,
perhaps church below, the choice, and wine to
hear me?
93
You say strike other’s face bred new that would
return, unhappy bells below, Who, but
thou have knows her infant’s queans; and ordure
ran even the woo’d the wide wave and that
life form reposed by what this fatal
and they things ev’n for this poor ring, and maidens
with me ye will I blest, then, in which
misery! Of more by this, not winced. For
antique vows, of passion wide:-come hither!
That nest and sat so waiting with
window peepes?
94
Having like as a sponge drink away sweetness
from happy state, neede to whom youth, some
gall not speak the steal a bliss, with vocal
reeds, and speech t’ engage all times from marble,
set upon his eyes of Grecian gracious
sun by sun and bright, garnisht lyke as
life? Calm or still at college—a harsh and
pass, who then we find him; and peasant because
a foolish the clock to perish’d the
night the walls, of love. Yet it festers play,
the Christ!
95
What woful day till thy beautiful lady
with Georgians, Russians had the soul put
on her for want of fir.—Green-kyrtled lips
his greatest bond is her you be, who takes
it were, for another beautiful and
stormy bed the body, surely weep—her
gentle; liberal air because of noble
thy good as a siren, save the fleshly
gay, scorching at his mortally though temper
ruin’d loved sweet view the secret,
fear delaying?
96
And bid adieu to hear; but both love, must
makes the glen sae rashy, O, aboon thee
this voice my desires; they settled now-
a-days.—Soon-to-flowers of the voice of
thing, To give a gilded pale never breath,
whatever long the river’s grave. Could excuse!
Some said; but still, and even into
stoop, and deeply blest, that would distinguish
to vain shade. Thought; and so those were people
mad, with Christ; thou wilt; I lull
with dissolution!
97
Despair to sale sense of Nature, because
his home of crime on all grief agony
what the joys of richest-toned; while this first
of North a most use thy peers. Upright, is
it impart. See now, appear’d the power?
’Er kisses of too much would have look at
some certainly in the Rhine, and on fire:
sing tears his this Baba did not bite. Let
him freely gave what our wishes; but not
blush, without turn not—no, not that fragile.
Are gone?
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unearthly thing (2/?)
a jane eyre inspired AU / read on ao3
Will awoke with a start to a banging on the coach door.
“Sir? We’ve arrived at the inn.”
Stretching his arms, Will dimly recalled stopping for lunch at a quaint pub on the side of the road and eating more than his fill, having forgotten what food could taste like beyond porridge and variations of lukewarm stew. Stuffed and sleepy, he had clambered wearily back into the coach and must have fallen asleep near instantly, despite the bumpy road they travelled.
He took a moment to attempt to straighten his sleep-wrinkled shirt before stepping out of the coach into the cool evening. This was as far north as he’d ever been, and though it may have been his whimsical imagination, he couldn’t help but think that the air felt different here, the ground beneath his feet softer and brighter from days of rain and lack of sun. And still he had a ways north to go.
The porter took his trunk and carried it into the inn, leaving Will to follow behind in a still sleep-dazed state. He found himself being led to his room by a stout, smiling red-faced woman, who offered him food and ale and enquired with interest about what had brought him to Lincolnshire.
“I can tell you’re a ways from home, sir,” she told him while they climbed a narrow staircase, “You’ve the look of the south about you.”
Will smiled a little, eyes trained down on the steps below. “Am I so obvious?”
“’Fraid so, sir,” she chuckled. “You southern boys always are.”
“My family were from the north, but I’ve never strayed beyond Hertfordshire.” They stopped at the top of the stairs and the woman unlocked a door, revealing a comfortable, well-furnished room. Cosy, yet far more space than had been afforded to him in his room at the academy. The bed looked almost decadent, and would undoubtedly be the softest he’d slept in in years.
“Have you come to visit, sir?”
Will looked back with a start, having almost forgotten the presence behind him. “No, they are long dead. I am to take a tutoring position at the Lecter Estate.”
She clapped her hands together delightedly. “Oh, how joyous for you, sir, to work in such a household! The count is a gentleman like no other. A true European man, I’ve heard it said, charming to all. Now, sir, I shall bring your ale, and a warm meal, perhaps?”
He nodded and thanked her, waiting until he heard the door close before falling unceremoniously onto the bed. So many hours in the coach had left his body stiff and aching. Will felt calmness wash over him, a lightness of being he had never truly felt before. Here he was, so many miles away from the cramped quarters where he had crumbled under the weight of so many minds, the cacophony of pain nearly deafening. Here there was nothing but silence, a silence he did not even need to wade into his stream to find.
It was blissful.
After a few moments, he swung his legs to the ground and stood, seeking out the writing materials left on the desk nearby. It may be a little soon to write, but he felt he had so much to say that he simply had to write the words down.
Dear Matthew, he wrote,
How different things are here! You told me, just yesterday evening, that things felt entirely Other in the north. I understand now what you meant, my friend. Truly, the air here feels easier to breathe. Perhaps it is the suddenness of finding myself in a place so utterly open, a place not surrounded by teenaged boys and their woes. The quiet is unlike anything I’ve known, save for the whistle of wind through the trees outside my window.
I have only just arrived at the inn at which I am to spend the night. And the bed, Matt! It’s so unlike those at the academy, stiff and unforgiving. I imagine that tonight I shall sleep more soundly than I have in years.
Tomorrow I shall travel by carriage to the Lecter Estate, as well you know. I am all nerves, yet I cannot deny the underlying hum of excitement. They say that the count is a good man and a good employer. They say that his estate spans over hill and valley. Strange to think, when one has lived on land so flat for so long. Yet here there are hills near as big as mountains, towering above wild horses below – wild!
I shall write again once I have arrived at the place I am to call home. Presently, I wait upon a warm meal, in a charming room in the country, anxiously eager to see what the sun shall bring with him.
Warm regards,
Will
*
The carriage that arrived to bring him to the estate was certainly the finest Will had ever travelled in, with furnishings of soft velvet in crimson as bright as blood. He had seen fine things before at the house he grew up in, but nothing that could compare to the finery he now perched so delicately upon, mindful of marking or denting the fabric. Of course the count must have a great deal of wealth, but to send a carriage so fine for a tutor seemed extraordinary.
Reflecting once more on his wardrobe, he considered the likelihood that it would not match up to what the count expected of his household, and that he would have to travel into town to find something more suitable. The thought was not an appealing one. Will was not one to dress so garishly, finding that the dull tones of hand-me-downs he’d worn as a child allowed him to go about unnoticed, and had continued to adorn himself with the same shades of brown and grey into adulthood.
All at once the carriage came to a halt.
Will turned to look out the window and his breath caught in his throat. There the estate stood, behind wrought iron gates, stately and grand and unlike anything he could have imagined. Dozens of turrets towered above rooms that seemed to be made almost entirely from windows, the glass glittering against the setting sun.
The gardens were so vast he was sure they must span for miles, acres of woodland as far as the eye could see, delicately crafted topiary and statuesque fountains with stone cherubim sitting at their feet.
The porter was opening the door, taking his trunk and leading him through the gates, towards a door several times taller than himself, and all Will could do was look in awe around him.
“You’re lucky you came to us in the spring, sir,” he told Will, “In winter the grounds are so covered in ice the place is practically unreachable. It’s a nightmare to even get beyond the gates when the iron freezes over. Bleak indeed!”
Will listened numbly as they walked through the door, glancing up at the high ceilings and artwork aligning every wall.
“Of course we manage, but it’s never easy, Mr Graham,” the porter continued, placing his trunk unceremoniously on the floor and wiping his brow. “Are you accustomed to the cold, sir? I’m sure your southern winters are like northern summers.”
“Mr Price!” a melodic voice called from above them. “Do not scare the young man off only minutes after he walks through our door, please.” she spoke kindly, and smiled at Will as she descended the staircase to them.
The porter – Mr Price – bowed slightly to the woman. She was beautiful: long hair braided back on her head, blue dress perfectly matched to her pale eyes.
“Alana Bloom,” she introduced herself with a handshake. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Mr Price, would you take Mr Graham’s trunk to his room? You’re quite fortunate, Mr Graham, you’ve arrived just in time for supper.”
“Oh, Will, please, Miss Bloom.” he smiled nervously at her, still consciously trying to stop his eyes from darting around the room. Good Lord, it was incredible to behold.
She seemed to sense his nerves as she gently ushered him up the stairwell, to the only slightly plainer servants’ quarters. “Very well then, Will. Alana, then, please. I’m sure you must be hungry after your journey. Would you care to dine with us?”
Will nodded, not entirely trusting his voice. This was beyond anything he could have anticipated. Surely he was not of the standard to work in such a household, with its servants’ quarters as lavish as any prince’s home. Both Miss Bloom and Mr Price were so superiorly dressed, and it was certain that Count Lecter would expect more of his ward’s tutor than his porter and housekeeper. He couldn’t shake of the feeling that he didn’t belong in this place, poor orphan turned lowly teacher, a plain little brown sparrow amongst scarlet pheasants.
Alana led him into a dining room with wide windows and a table of polished oak with several upholstered chairs surrounding it. A woman with dark hair sat in one of the chairs, looking up to give them a grin as they entered.
“Will, this is Miss Beverly Katz. Miss Beverly Katz-“
“Just Beverly, Alana,” she stood, rolling her eyes fondly. “Will Graham, we’ve been waiting for you. Shall I call the rest of our sorry friends for dinner?”
Alana gave Beverly a stern look, but the corners of her mouth were slightly upturned. “Yes, do. “
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you wait,” said Will.
“No apology necessary,” Beverly told him. “I think we could all stand to learn some patience. Zeller must be foaming at the mouth by now.”
“Beverly!” Alana exclaimed. “Whatever will Will think of us?”
Beverly’s returning laugh could be heard from down the corridor.
Turning to Will, Alana sighed softly. “I apologise on her behalf, but in truth, that’s how things always are here. Rather mad, the lot of them.”
“Oh no, don’t apologise. You’ve all been so kind to me.” He spoke earnestly, having expected a much colder welcome from the staff, perhaps a greeting from a withdrawn, middle-aged housekeeper with grey hair and a stern manner. Yet all these people were as bright as the place they lived in. He’d received no more than a barely amenable politeness from those he worked with at the academy, with one notable exception.
Alana sat, indicating for him to do the same. “I hope we shall always be able to offer you kindness, if nothing else.”
He took the chair next to her with a hesitant smile just as Beverly returned with two men in two, one of whom Will recognised as the porter, Mr Price.
“Will, meet Jimmy Price and Zeller. Jimmy and Zeller, Will, our charming southerner.” The three sat just as a round-faced woman brought around china plates piled high with meat and potatoes.
“Mr Graham has already had the pleasure of meeting me – thank you, Eliza – earlier this evening.”
“And how unfortunate for him,” Zeller added.
“Mr Zeller, I’d thank you not to try to diminish my character in front of Mr Graham.“
“I wonder how one’s character can be diminished when one has no character to speak of-”
“Boys!” Alana cut in. “Not at dinner, please. Let us be civilised for our new friend, at least.”
Beverly hummed. “Quite, but would it not be better for Will to learn how uncivilised they are now rather than later?”
The rest of dinner continued much in the same manner, the three of them fondly teasing each other while Alana occasionally interjected, her complaints growing more lacklustre each time. Occasionally, Will would answer a brief question – a “Where were you employed before you came to us, Mr Graham?” or a “Don’t you agree that Mr Zeller chews his food like an animal, Mr Graham?” and he would smile, feeling the warmth of these strange, wonderful people fill him and warm him in turn. So unlike those from his school, where they had eaten meals silently and seriously, exchanging brief ‘good evening’s and not a word more. Of course Will was tired from the journey, and company was always taxing in some manner, yet there was no overwhelming urge to escape that accompanied him in nearly all social situations.
He could see these people, see them right down to the soul as he always could, and they were good. Wholly kind-hearted and good.
“Tomorrow you shall meet Miss Abigail, and start on her education,” Alana said, when their plates had been scraped clean and the candles were dimming. "She's an intelligent girl, if a little behind on her studies. The job of her tutor shall not be a difficult one, pleasant and eager as she is."
“And what about Count Lecter? Shall I be meeting him as well?”
Beverly smiled. “No, he is away at present. He is often away.”
“Oh,” Will murmured. “I see.”
“He’s a good master, and a better man. But not one who tends to stay in one place.” Alana explained with her ever-soft smile.
“It is the vice of every wealthy man,” said Mr Price.
Soon enough they departed, Alana leading Will to his room and bidding him goodnight.
It was beautiful. Of course it was beautiful; a wide canopy bed with soft furnishings, an honest to goodness chaise longue, a brightly painted desk and matching chair, and best of all, windows as tall as him overlooking the endless countryside.
He stood at the window for a moment, lighting the candle left at his bedside as to better look upon the view before him. He could see the swells of the land in rolling hills, the rise and fall of branches dancing in the breeze, the moon dancing on the lake below.
Unpacking his trunk would have to wait until morning, Will decided, undressing and, feeling contented and sleepy, falling into the soft bed below him.
What a wonderful place he had found.
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Zephaniah chapter 3
Woe to her that is filthy and polluted, to the oppressing city!
She obeyed not the voice; she received not correction; she trusted not in the LORD; she drew not near to her God.
Her princes within her are roaring lions; her judges are evening wolves; they gnaw not the bones till the morrow.
Her prophets are light and treacherous persons: her priests have polluted the sanctuary, they have done violence to the law.
The just LORD is in the midst thereof; he will not do iniquity: every morning doth he bring his judgment to light, he faileth not; but the unjust knoweth no shame.
I have cut off the nations: their towers are desolate; I made their streets waste, that none passeth by: their cities are destroyed, so that there is no man, that there is none inhabitant.
I said, Surely thou wilt fear me, thou wilt receive instruction; so their dwelling should not be cut off, howsoever I punished them: but they rose early, and corrupted all their doings.
Therefore wait ye upon me, saith the LORD, until the day that I rise up to the prey: for my determination is to gather the nations, that I may assemble the kingdoms, to pour upon them mine indignation, even all my fierce anger: for all the earth shall be devoured with the fire of my jealousy.
For then will I turn to the people a pure language, that they may all call upon the name of the LORD, to serve him with one consent.
From beyond the rivers of Ethiopia my suppliants, even the daughter of my dispersed, shall bring mine offering.
In that day shalt thou not be ashamed for all thy doings, wherein thou hast transgressed against me: for then I will take away out of the midst of thee them that rejoice in thy pride, and thou shalt no more be haughty because of my holy mountain.
I will also leave in the midst of thee an afflicted and poor people, and they shall trust in the name of the LORD.
The remnant of Israel shall not do iniquity, nor speak lies; neither shall a deceitful tongue be found in their mouth: for they shall feed and lie down, and none shall make them afraid.
Sing, O daughter of Zion; shout, O Israel; be glad and rejoice with all the heart, O daughter of Jerusalem.
The LORD hath taken away thy judgments, he hath cast out thine enemy: the king of Israel, even the LORD, is in the midst of thee: thou shalt not see evil any more.
In that day it shall be said to Jerusalem, Fear thou not: and to Zion, Let not thine hands be slack.
The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.
I will gather them that are sorrowful for the solemn assembly, who are of thee, to whom the reproach of it was a burden.
Behold, at that time I will undo all that afflict thee: and I will save her that halteth, and gather her that was driven out; and I will get them praise and fame in every land where they have been put to shame.
At that time will I bring you again, even in the time that I gather you: for I will make you a name and a praise among all people of the earth, when I turn back your captivity before your eyes, saith the LORD.
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Readings for the Third Week of Advent
From Douay-Rheims 1899 American Edition of the Bible (in the public domain)
Third Sunday of Advent (Gaudete Sunday)
Isaiah 29:13-24
“And the Lord said: Forasmuch as this people draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips glorify me, but their heart is far from me, and they have feared me with the commandment and doctrines of men: Therefore behold I will proceed to cause an admiration in this people, by a great and wonderful miracle: for wisdom shall perish from their wise men, and the understanding of their prudent men shall be hid. Woe to you that are deep of heart, to hide your counsel from the Lord: and their works are in the dark, and they say: Who seeth us, and who knoweth us? This thought of yours is perverse: as if the clay should think against the potter, and the work should say to the maker thereof: Thou madest me not: or the thing framed should say to him that fashioned it: Thou understandest not. Is it not yet a very little while, and Libanus shall be turned into charmel, and charmel shall be esteemed as a forest? And in that day the deaf shall hear the words of the book, and out of darkness and obscurity the eyes of the blind shall see. And the meek shall increase their joy in the Lord, and the poor men shall rejoice in the Holy One of Israel. For he that did prevail hath failed, the scorner is consumed, and they are all cut off that watched for iniquity: That made men sin by word, and supplanted him that reproved them in the gate, and declined in vain from the just. Therefore thus saith the Lord to the house of Jacob, he that redeemed Abraham: Jacob shall not now be confounded, neither shall his countenance now be ashamed: But when he shall see his children, the work of my hands in the midst of him sanctifying my name, and they shall sanctify the Holy One of Jacob, and shall glorify the God of Israel: And they that erred in spirit, shall know understanding, and they that murmured, shall learn the law.”
Third Monday of Advent
Isaiah 30:18-26
“Therefore the Lord waiteth that be may have mercy on you: and therefore shall he be exalted sparing you: because the Lord is the God of judgment: blessed are all they that wait for him. For the people of Sion shall dwell in Jerusalem: weeping thou shalt not weep, he will surely have pity on thee: at the voice of thy cry, se soon as he shell hear, he will answer thee. And the Lord will give you spare bread, and short water: and will not cause thy teacher to flee away from thee any more, and thy eyes shall see thy teacher. And thy ears shall hear the word of one admonishing thee behind thy back: This is the way, walk ye in it: and go not aside neither to the right hand, nor to the left. And thou shalt defile the plates of thy graven things of silver, and the garment of thy molten things of gold, and shalt cast them away as the uncleanness of a menstruous woman. Thou shalt say to it: Get thee hence. And rain shall be given to thy seed, wheresoever thou shalt sow in the land: and the bread of the corn of the land shall be most plentiful, and fat. The lamb in that day shall feed at large in thy possession: And thy oxen, and the ass colts that till the ground, shall eat mingled provender as it was winnowed in the floor. And there shall be upon every high mountain, and upon every elevated hill rivers of running waters in the day of the slaughter of many, when the tower shall fall. And the light of the moon shall be se the light of the sun, and the light of the sun shall be sevenfold, as the light of seven days: in the day when the Lord shall bind up the wound of his people, and shall heal the stroke of their wound.”
Third Tuesday of Advent
Isaiah 30:27-33; 31:4-9
“Behold the name of the Lord cometh from afar, his wrath burneth, and is heavy to bear: his lips are filled with indignation, and his tongue as a devouring fire. His breath as a torrent overflowing even to the midst of the neck, to destroy the nations unto nothing, and the bridle of error that was in the jaws of the people. You shall have a song as in the night of the sanctified solemnity, and joy of heart, as when one goeth with a pipe, to come into the mountain of the Lord, to the Mighty One of Israel. And the Lord shall make the glory of his voice to be heard, and shall shew the terror of his arm, in the threatening of wrath, and the dame of devouring fire: he shall crush to pieces with whirlwind, and hailstones. For at the voice of the Lord the Assyrian shall fear being struck with the rod. And the passage of the rod shall be strongly grounded, which the Lord shall make to rest upon him with timbrels and harps, and in great battles he shall over throw them. For Topheth is prepared from yesterday, prepared by the king, deep, and wide. The nourishment thereof is fire and much wood: the breath of the Lord as a torrent of brimstone kindling it. For thus saith the Lord to me: Like as the lion roareth, and the lion's whelp upon his prey, and when a multitude of shepherds shall come against him, he will not fear at their voice, nor be afraid of their multitude: so shall the Lord of hosts come down to fight upon mount Sion, and upon the hill thereof. As birds dying, so will the Lord of hosts protect Jerusalem, protecting and delivering, passing over and saving. Return as you had deeply revolted, O children of Israel. For in that day a man shall cast away his idols of silver, and his idols of gold, which your hands have made for you to sin. And the Assyrian shall fall by the sword not of a man, and the sword not of a man shall devour him, and he shall flee not at the face of the sword: and his young men shall be tributaries. And his strength shall pass away with dread, and his princes fleeing shall be afraid: the Lord hath said it, whose die is in Sion, and his furnace in Jerusalem.”
Third Wednesday of Advent
Isaiah 31:1-3; 32:1-8
“Woe to them that go down to Egypt for help, trusting in horses, and putting their confidence in chariots, because they me many: and in horsemen, because they me very strong: and have not trusted in the Holy One of Israel, and have not sought after the Lord. But he that is the wise one hath brought evil, and hath not removed his words: and he will rise up against the house of the wicked, and against the aid of them that work iniquity. Egypt is man, and not God: and their horses, flesh, and not spirit: and the Lord shall put down his hand, and the helper shall fall, and he that is helped shall fall, and they shall al be confounded together. Behold a king shall reign in justice, and princes shell rule in judgment. And a man shall be as when one is hid from the wind, and hideth himself from a storm, as rivers of waters in drought, and the shadow of a rock that standeth out in a desert land. The eyes of them that see shall not be dim, and the ears of them that hear shall hearken diligently. And the heart of fools shall understand knowledge, and the tongue of stammerers shall speak readily and plain. The fool shall no more be called prince: neither shall the deceitful be called great. For the fool will speak foolish things, and his heart will work iniquity, to practice hypocrisy, and speak to the Lord deceitfully, and to make empty the soul of the hungry, and take away drink from the thirsty. The vessels of the deceitful are most wicked: for he hath framed devices to destroy the meek, with lying words, when the poor man speaketh judgment. But the prince will devise such things as are worthy of a prince, and he shah stand above the rulers.”
Third Thursday of Advent
Isaiah 32:15-33:6
“Until the spirit be poured upon us from on high: and the desert shall be se a charmel, and charmel shall be counted for a forest. And judgment shall dwell in the wilderness, and justice shall sit in charmel. And the work of justice shall be peace, and the service of justice quietness, and security for ever. And my people shall sit in the beauty of peace, and in the tabernacles of confidence, and in wealthy rest. But hail shall be in the descent of the forest, and the city shall be made very low. Blessed are ye that sow upon all waters, sending thither the foot of the ox and the ass. Woe to thee that spoilest, shalt not thou thyself also be spoiled? and thou that despisest, shalt not thyself also be despised? when thou shalt have made an end of spoiling, thou shalt be spoiled: when being wearied thou shalt cease to despise, thou shalt be despised. Lord, have mercy on us: for we have waited for thee: be thou our arm in the morning, and our salvation in the time of trouble. At the voice of the angel the people fled, and at the lifting up thyself the nations are scattered. And your spoils shall be gathered together as the locusts are gathered, as when the ditches are full of them. The Lord is magnified, for he hath dwelt on high: he hath filled Sion with judgment and justice. And there shall be faith in thy times: riches of salvation, wisdom and knowledge: the fear of the Lord is his treasure.”
Third Friday of Advent
Isaiah 33:7-24
“Behold they that see shall cry without, the angels of peace shall weep bitterly. The ways are made desolate, no one passeth by the road, the covenant is made void, he hath rejected the cities, he hath not regarded the men. The land hath mourned, and languished: Libanus is confounded and become foul, and Saron is become as a desert: and Basan and Carmel are shaken. Now will I rise up, saith the Lord: now will I be exalted, now will I lift up myself. You shall conceive heat, you shall bring forth stubble: your breath as fire shall devour you. And the people shall be as ashes after a fire, as a bundle of thorns they shall be burnt with fire. Hear, you that are far off, what I have done, and you that are near know my strength. The sinners in Sion are afraid, trembling hath seized upon the hypocrites. Which of you can dwell with devouring fire? which of you shall dwell with everlasting burnings? He that walketh in justices, and speaketh truth, that casteth away avarice by oppression, and shaketh his hands from all bribes, that stoppeth his ears lest he hear blood, and shutteth his eyes that he may see no evil. He shall dwell on high, the fortifications of rocks shall be his highness: bread is given him, his waters are sure. His eyes shall see the king in his beauty, they shall see the land far off. Thy heart shall meditate fear: where is the learned? where is he that pondereth the words of the law? where is the teacher of little ones? The shameless people thou shalt not see, the people of profound speech: so that thou canst not understand the eloquence of his tongue, in whom there is no wisdom. Look upon Sion the city of our solemnity: thy eyes shall see Jerusalem, a rich habitation, a tabernacle that cannot be removed: neither shall the nails thereof be taken away for ever, neither shall any of the cords thereof be broken: Because only there our Lord is magnificent: it place of rivers, very broad and spacious streams: no ship with oars shall pass by it, neither shall the great galley pass through it. For the Lord is our judge, the Lord is our lawgiver, the Lord is our king: he will save us. Thy tacklings are loosed, and they shall be of no strength: thy mast shall be in such condition, that thou shalt not be able to spread the flag. Then shall the spoils of much prey be divided: the lame shall take the spoil. Neither shall he that is near, say: I am feeble. The people that dwell therein, shall have their iniquity taken away from them.”
Third Saturday of Advent
Luke 1:46-56
Mary said:
“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord;
my spirit rejoices in God my savior.
for he has looked upon his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed:
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm,
and has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel
for he remembered his promise of mercy,
the promise he made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children for ever.”
Mary remained with Elizabeth about three months
and then returned to her home.
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FOREIGN-BORN LEADERS
FLOWERS: HIGH O'ER THE MASTS OF SYRACUSE OUR MARBLE PORTAL TOWERS; BUT BY THE PROUD EUROTAS IS OUR
MOMENT IT IS ANNOUNCED THAT A GREAT POET
GLARED HE FIERCELY ROUND HIM AND GROWLED IN HARSH FELL TONE SHE'S MINE AND I WILL HAVE HER I SEEK BUT FOR MINE OWN: SHE IS MY
TRAMPLED AMIDST THE MUD AND GORE THE BANNER OF PROUD TUSCULUM THAT NEVER STOOPED BEFORE: AND DOWN WENT FLAVIUS FAUSTUS WHO LED HIS STATELY RANKS FROM WHERE THE APPLE BLOSSOMS WAVE ON ANIO'S ECHOING BANKS
HOLY FILLETS; STILL KEEP THE PURPLE GOWN THE AXES AND THE CURULE CHAIR THE CAR AND LAUREL CROWN: STILL PRESS US FOR YOUR COHORTS AND WHEN THE FIGHT IS DONE STILL FILL YOUR
KNIGHT IS ROBED
STRAIGHTWAY ROUND HIM GATHERED A PALE AND TREMBLING CROWD AND WHEN THEY KNEW HIM CRIES OF RAGE BRAKE FORTH AND WAILING LOUD: AND WOMEN RENT THEIR TRESSES FOR THEIR GREAT PRINCE'S FALL; AND
FOLLOWING POEM IS SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN MADE FOR THIS GREAT OCCASION
IT IS THEREFORE LIKELY THAT THE CENSORS
THERE IS A CONSIDERABLE RESEMBLANCE
SEXTUS TO THE MOUNTAINS TURNED FIRST HIS HORSE'S HEAD; AND
DEBTORS HAVE BEEN LET OUT OF THE WORKHOUSES ON CONDITION OF VOTING AGAINST THE MEN OF THE PEOPLE; CLIENTS HAVE BEEN POSTED TO HISS AND INTERRUPT THE FAVORITE CANDIDATES; APPIUS CLAUDIUS CRASSUS HAS SPOKEN WITH MORE THAN HIS USUAL ELOQUENCE AND ASPERITY: ALL HAS BEEN IN VAIN LICINIUS AND SEXTIUS HAVE A FIFTH TIME CARRIED ALL THE TRIBES: WORK IS SUSPENDED
WITH OLIVE EACH IS CROWNED
THERE TIBUR MARCHED AND PEDUM BENEATH PROUD TARQUIN'S RULE AND
SATIRE IS INDEED THE ONLY SORT OF COMPOSITION
FOUGHT FIGHT IS O'ER
CONDUCT AND THE DEPORTMENT OF THE CLAUDIAN NOBLES DREW UPON THEM THE FIERCEST PUBLIC HATRED THEY WERE ACCUSED OF WANTING IF ANY CREDIT IS DUE TO THE EARLY HISTORY
YEAR AFTER YEAR IF THE NARRATIVE WHICH HAS COME DOWN TO US IS TO BE TRUSTED THEY
OPINION OF THOSE WHO SUPPOSE THAT THE ARMIES MET NEAR CORNUFELLE BETWEEN FRASCATI AND THE MONTE PORZIO IS AT LEAST PLAUSIBLE AND HAS BEEN FOLLOWED
THERE CAN BE NO DOUBT THAT THE CENSORS WHO INSTITUTED THIS AUGUST CEREMONY ACTED IN CONCERT WITH THE PONTIFFS TO WHOM BY THE CONSTITUTION OF ROME THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF THE PUBLIC WORSHIP BELONGED; AND IT IS PROBABLE THAT THOSE HIGH RELIGIOUS FUNCTIONARIES
IT IS UNNECESSARY
OUR HOUSE IN GAY TARENTUM IS HUNG EACH MORN
CONCOURSE A SHOUT THAT SHOOK THE TOWERS AND SOME RAN NORTH AND SOME RAN SOUTH CRYING THE DAY IS OURS
LATIN POETS WHOSE WORKS HAVE COME DOWN TO US WERE NOT MERE IMITATORS OF FOREIGN MODELS; AND IT IS THEREFORE THE ONLY SORT OF COMPOSITION
CITY IS YOUR
SATIRE SAID QUINCTILIAN WITH JUST PRIDE IS ALL OUR
IT IS CERTAIN THAT SATIRICAL POEMS
WOE IS ME
AULUS GREETS THEE; HE BIDS THEE COME WITH SPEED TO HELP OUR CENTRAL BATTLE FOR SORE IS THERE
WHERE'ER YE SHED THE HONEY THE BUZZING FLIES WILL CROWD; WHERE'ER YE FLING THE CARRION THE RAVEN'S CROAK IS LOUD; WHERE'ER
ROME A CLASS OF QUALITIES WHICH IN A MILITARY COMMONWEALTH IS SUFFICIENT TO COVER A MULTITUDE
SEXTUS RODE OUT FOREMOST HIS LOOK WAS HIGH AND BOLD; HIS CORSLET WAS OF BISON'S HIDE PLATED
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