Page 277
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King. 1 His sevencoloured's soot (Ochone! | ||
Ochonal!) 2 and his imponence one heap lump- | ||
Why so mucky | block (Mogoul!). And rivers burst out like | |
pick bridges | weeming racesround joydrinks for the fewnral- | |
span our Flumi- | ly, 3 where every feaster's a foster's other, fian- | |
nian road. | nians all. 4 The wellingbreast, he willing giant, | |
P.C. Helmut's in | the mountain mourning his duggedy dew. To | |
the cottonwood, | obedient of civicity in urbanious at felicity | |
listnin. | what'll yet meek Mike 5 our diputy mimber when | |
The throne is an | he's head on poll and Peter's burgess and Miss | |
umbrella strande | Mishy Mushy is tiptupt by Toft Taft. Boblesse | |
and a sceptre's a | gobleege. For as Anna was at the beginning | |
stick. | lives yet and will return after great deap sleap | |
Jady jewel, our | rerising and a white night high with a cows of | |
daktar deer. | Drommhiem as shower as there's a wet en- | |
Gautamed bud- | clouded in Westwicklow or a little black rose a | |
ders deossiphys- | truant in a thorntree. We drames our dreams | |
ing our Theas. | tell Bappy returns. And Sein annews. We will | |
not say it shall not be, this passing of order and | ||
order's coming, but in the herbest country and | ||
in the country around Blath as in that city self | ||
of legionds they look for its being ever yet. So | ||
shuttle the pipers done. 6 Eric aboy! 7 And it's | ||
time that all paid tribute to this massive mor- | ||
By lineal in pon- | tiality, the pink of punk perfection as photo- | |
dus overthepoise. | graphy in mud. Some may seek to dodge the | |
1 I wonder if I put the old buzzerd one night to suckle in Millickmaam's | ||
honey like they use to emballem some of the special popes with a book in his | ||
hand and his mouth open. | ||
2 And a ripping rude rape in his lucreasious togery. | ||
3 Will ye nought would wet your weapons, warriors bard? | ||
4 Roe, Williams, Bewey, Greene, Gorham, McEndicoth and Vyler, the | ||
lays of ancient homes. | ||
5 The stanidsglass effect, you could sugerly swear buttermilt would not | ||
melt down his dripping ducks. | ||
6 Thickathigh and Thinathews with sant their dam. | ||
7 Oh, could we do with this waddled of ours like that redbanked profanian | ||
with his bakset of yosters. | ||