#123

You myth it, loose of her, what's there. I carry us in the clouds and leave no shadow. There's the forest groaning smaller, see. There's the house in disrepear. And the fruiter seller, 40th. Wear Squire there says, a guest him, Je te donne a pear. They're as the road Steve's father walked. So see down pair, you'll seed the path. Vois-two a Demon Est Deus Inversus? Delight, delight! And she sidheog on Fairymount, do. A kittle-kattle lex-in-pents, and a pooka full of sosoarsee. See see, the verdant shawl? the night cap, red cap, white owl's feather? Peer over, squint, recoyre. At the tomb he teems across, this wholly chap erd non. A sans a chapter till Stevie gi's 'im a fiver. And see what's deadliest luck, my seen? The sea, the sea, where the leg of a seared sunblinds turns, disappearing into the green. The Brueghel blows, the flute is flown. But here anan the scape is yours, you see.