Page 276
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| other's weariness waiting to beadroll his own | ||
| properer mistakes, the backslapping glad- | ||
| Some is out for | hander, 1 free of his florid future and the other | |
| twoheaded dul- | singing likeness, dirging a past of bloody altars, | |
| carnons but more | gale with a blost to him, dove without gall. | |
| pulfers turnips. | And she, of the jilldaw's nest 2 who tears up | |
| Omnitudes in a | lettereens she never apposed a pen upon. 3 Yet | |
| knutshedell. | sung of love and the monster man. What's | |
| Hiccupper to hem or her to Hagaba? Ough, | ||
| ough, brieve kindli! 4 | ||
| Dogs' vespers are anending. Vespertilia- | THE MON- | |
| bitur. Goteshoppard quits his gabhard cloke | GREL UNDER | |
| to sate with Becchus. Zumbock! Achevre! | THE DUNG- | |
| Yet wind will be ere fadervor 5 and the hour of | MOUND. | |
| For all us kids | fruminy and bergoo bell if Nippon have pearls | SIGNIFI- |
| under his aegis. | or opals Eldorado, the daindy dish, the lecking | CANCE OF |
| out! Gipoo, good oil! For (hushmagandy!) | THE INFRA- | |
| long 'tis till gets bright that all cocks waken | LIMINAL IN- | |
| and birds Diana 6 with dawnsong hail. Aught | TELLIGENCE. | |
| darks flou a duskness. Bats that? There peepee- | OFFRANDES. | |
| Saving the public | strilling. At Brannan's on the moor. At Tam | |
| his health. | Fanagan's weak yat his still's going strang. | |
| And still here is noctules and can tell things | ||
| acommon on by that fluffy feeling. Larges | ||
| Superlative abso- | loomy wheelhouse to bodgbox 7 lumber up | |
| lute of Porter- | with hoodie hearsemen carrawain we keep | |
| stown. | is peace who follow his law, Sunday | |
| 1 He gives me pulpititions with his Castlecowards never in the twowsers | ||
| and ever in those twawsers and then babeteasing us out of our hoydenname. | ||
| 2 My goldfashioned bother near drave me roven mad and I dyeing to | ||
| keep my linefree face like readymaid maryangs for jollycomes smashing | ||
| Holmes. | ||
| 3 What I would like is a jade louistone to go with the moon's increscent. | ||
| 4 Parley vows the Askinwhose? I do, Ida. And how to call the cattle black. | ||
| Moopetsi meepotsi | ||
| 5 I was so snug off in my apholster's creedle but at long leash I'll stretch | ||
| more capritious in his dapplepied bed. | ||
| 6 Pipette. I can almost feed their sweetness at my lisplips. | ||
| 7 A liss in hunterland. | ||
