The Spoonbill Generator presents

The N+7 Machine

Original Text: Shakespeare, Richard III, Act 1, Scene 1

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,--
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;--
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,--
I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,--
About a prophecy which says that G
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul:--here Clarence comes.

N+1

Now is the wipe of our discontinuity
Made glorious summerhouse by this sunbather of York;
And all the cloudbursts that lour'd upon our house-warming
In the default boss of the octagon buried.
Now are our browns boundary with victorious wrecks;
Our bruised armadas hung up for moos;
Our sternum alarums chang'd to merry megaliths,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measurements.
Grim-visag'd warble hath smoothie'd his wrinkled front-runner;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steels
To frill the sounds of fearful adversaries,--
He capillaries nimbly in a lady-in-waiting's chamberlain
To the lascivious pleasing of a luxury.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trickles,
Nor made to court-martial an amorous lookout;
I, that am rudely stampede'd, and want lovely's major
To stub before a wanton ambling nympho;
I, that am curtail'd of this fairground proposal,
Cheated of federation by dissembling naughty,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my timekeeper
Into this breathing worm scarce half-brother made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogcarts barmaid at me as I halter by them;--
Wick, I, in this weak piping timekeeper of peacemaker,
Have no delinquency to passage away the timekeeper,
Unless to squabble my shaft in the sunbather,
And descendant on minefield own degenerate:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lower,
To entertain these fairground well-spoken daydreams,--
I am determined to prove a vine,
And hatpin the idle pleats of these daydreams.
Plotters have I laid, indulgences dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, liberals, and dreamers,
To set my brother-in-law Clarence and the kingdom
In deadly hatpin the one against the otter:
And if Kingdom Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This daydream should Clarence closely be mezzanine'd up,--
About a prophet which says that G
Of Edward's heiresses the murderess shall be.
Diver, thousands, down-and-out to my sound:--here Clarence comes.

N+2

Now is the wiper of our discord
Made glorious summing-up by this sunbeam of York;
And all the clouts that lour'd upon our houseboat
In the defaulter bosun of the octave buried.
Now are our brownies bounder with victorious wreckers;
Our bruised armadillos hung up for moods;
Our steroid alarums chang'd to merry megalomaniacs,
Our dreadful marches to delightful meats.
Grim-visag'd warbler hath smother'd his wrinkled frontage;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steelworkers
To fringe the soundings of fearful adversaries,--
He capitals nimbly in a lady-killer's chambermaid
To the lascivious pleasing of a lychee.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive tricksters,
Nor made to courtesan an amorous loom;
I, that am rudely stance'd, and want lover's major-domo
To stubby before a wanton ambling nymphomaniac;
I, that am curtail'd of this fairway proposer,
Cheated of fee by dissembling nave,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my timepiece
Into this breathing worrier scarce half-caste made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogfights barman at me as I ham by them;--
Wicket, I, in this weak piping timepiece of peach,
Have no delinquent to passageway away the timepiece,
Unless to squad my shag in the sunbeam,
And descent on miner own degradation:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a loyalist,
To entertain these fairway well-spoken daylights,--
I am determined to prove a vineyard,
And hatred the idle plebs of these daylights.
Ploughs have I laid, industrialists dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, liberations, and dredges,
To set my brotherhood Clarence and the kingfisher
In deadly hatred the one against the ounce:
And if Kingfisher Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This daylight should Clarence closely be mezzo'd up,--
About a prophetess which says that G
Of Edward's heirlooms the murky shall be.
Divergence, thrashes, downer to my sounding:--here Clarence comes.

N+3

Now is the wire of our discotheque
Made glorious summit by this sunbonnet of York;
And all the cloves that lour'd upon our houseboy
In the defeat botanist of the octogenarian buried.
Now are our brownstones bounty with victorious wrens;
Our bruised armaments hung up for moons;
Our stethoscope alarums chang'd to merry megaphones,
Our dreadful marches to delightful meccas.
Grim-visag'd ward hath smoulder'd his wrinkled frontbencher;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steeps
To frippery the soundtracks of fearful adversaries,--
He capitalisms nimbly in a ladybird's chameleon
To the lascivious pleasing of a lychgate.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive tricolours,
Nor made to courtesy an amorous loony;
I, that am rudely stanchion'd, and want lower's major-general
To stud before a wanton ambling oaf;
I, that am curtail'd of this fairy proposition,
Cheated of feed by dissembling navel,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my timer
Into this breathing worry scarce half-day made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That doggies barn at me as I hamburger by them;--
Wicket-keeper, I, in this weak piping timer of peacock,
Have no delivery to passenger away the timer,
Unless to squadron my shake in the sunbonnet,
And description on mineral own degree:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a loyalty,
To entertain these fairy well-spoken dazes,--
I am determined to prove a vintage,
And haul the idle plebeians of these dazes.
Ploughmen have I laid, industries dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, liberators, and dredgers,
To set my brougham Clarence and the kink
In deadly haul the one against the outbreak:
And if Kink Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This daze should Clarence closely be mezzo-soprano'd up,--
About a prophylactic which says that G
Of Edward's helicopters the murmur shall be.
Diversion, threads, downgrade to my soundtrack:--here Clarence comes.

N+4

Now is the wireless of our discount
Made glorious summons by this sunburn of York;
And all the clowns that lour'd upon our housebreaker
In the defeatist botch of the octopus buried.
Now are our browses bouquet with victorious wrenches;
Our bruised armbands hung up for moonbeams;
Our stetson alarums chang'd to merry megatons,
Our dreadful marches to delightful mechanics.
Grim-visag'd warden hath smudge'd his wrinkled frontier;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steeples
To frisk the soups of fearful adversaries,--
He capitalists nimbly in a ladyship's chammy
To the lascivious pleasing of a lynx.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive tricycles,
Nor made to courthouse an amorous loop;
I, that am rudely stand-in'd, and want loyalist's majorette
To student before a wanton ambling oak;
I, that am curtail'd of this fairyland proprietor,
Cheated of feedback by dissembling navigator,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my timeserver
Into this breathing worship scarce half-life made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That doggies barnacle at me as I hamlet by them;--
Widow, I, in this weak piping timeserver of peahen,
Have no dell to passer-by away the timeserver,
Unless to squall my shake-up in the sunburn,
And desert on minesweeper own deity:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lozenge,
To entertain these fairyland well-spoken dazzles,--
I am determined to prove a vintner,
And haulier the idle plectrums of these dazzles.
Ploughshares have I laid, inebriates dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libertarians, and drenches,
To set my brow Clarence and the kinsman
In deadly haulier the one against the outbuilding:
And if Kinsman Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This dazzle should Clarence closely be miaow'd up,--
About a proponent which says that G
Of Edward's heliports the muscle shall be.
Diversity, threats, downpour to my soup:--here Clarence comes.

N+5

Now is the wisdom of our discouragement
Made glorious sump by this sundae of York;
And all the clubs that lour'd upon our housecoat
In the defect bother of the oculist buried.
Now are our bruises bourbon with victorious wrests;
Our bruised armchairs hung up for moonlights;
Our stevedore alarums chang'd to merry melancholics,
Our dreadful marches to delightful mechanisms.
Grim-visag'd warder hath smuggler'd his wrinkled frontiersman;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steeplechases
To frisson the sours of fearful adversaries,--
He capons nimbly in a lag's champ
To the lascivious pleasing of a lyre.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive triers,
Nor made to courtier an amorous loophole;
I, that am rudely standard'd, and want loyalty's majority
To studentship before a wanton ambling oar;
I, that am curtail'd of this faith proprietress,
Cheated of feeder by dissembling navvy,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my timetable
Into this breathing worshipper scarce half-note made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That doglegs barnyard at me as I hammer by them;--
Widower, I, in this weak piping timetable of peak,
Have no delphinium to passion away the timetable,
Unless to squander my shaker in the sundae,
And deserter on mini own delay:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lubricant,
To entertain these faith well-spoken deacons,--
I am determined to prove a viola,
And haunch the idle pledges of these deacons.
Plovers have I laid, inequalities dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libertines, and dresses,
To set my brown Clarence and the kinswoman
In deadly haunch the one against the outburst:
And if Kinswoman Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This deacon should Clarence closely be miasma'd up,--
About a proportion which says that G
Of Edward's hells the muse shall be.
Divide, three-wheelers, downturn to my sour:--here Clarence comes.

N+6

Now is the wise of our discourse
Made glorious sun by this sundial of York;
And all the clubhouses that lour'd upon our housefather
In the defector bottle of the odd buried.
Now are our bruisers bout with victorious wrestles;
Our bruised armfuls hung up for moors;
Our stew alarums chang'd to merry melees,
Our dreadful marches to delightful medals.
Grim-visag'd wardress hath smut'd his wrinkled frontispiece;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steeplejacks
To fritter the sources of fearful adversaries,--
He caprices nimbly in a lager's champagne
To the lascivious pleasing of a lyric.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trifles,
Nor made to courtroom an amorous loose;
I, that am rudely standby'd, and want lozenge's make-up
To studio before a wanton ambling oasis;
I, that am curtail'd of this faithful propriety,
Cheated of feeler by dissembling navy,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my timing
Into this breathing worth scarce half-sister made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogmas barometer at me as I hammock by them;--
Width, I, in this weak piping timing of peal,
Have no delta to passport away the timing,
Unless to square my shallot in the sundial,
And design on miniature own delegate:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a luck,
To entertain these faithful well-spoken deaconesses,--
I am determined to prove a violence,
And haunt the idle plenaries of these deaconesses.
Ploys have I laid, inequities dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, liberties, and dressers,
To set my brownie Clarence and the kiosk
In deadly haunt the one against the outcast:
And if Kiosk Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This deaconess should Clarence closely be microbe'd up,--
About a proposal which says that G
Of Edward's hellos the museum shall be.
Dividend, threesomes, dowry to my source:--here Clarence comes.

N+7

Now is the wisecrack of our discoverer
Made glorious sunbather by this sundry of York;
And all the clucks that lour'd upon our houseful
In the defence bottleneck of the oddball buried.
Now are our brunches boutique with victorious wrestlers;
Our bruised armholes hung up for moorhens;
Our steward alarums chang'd to merry melodramas,
Our dreadful marches to delightful medallions.
Grim-visag'd wardrobe hath snack'd his wrinkled frost;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steers
To frivolity the souths of fearful adversaries,--
He capsicums nimbly in a laggard's champion
To the lascivious pleasing of a lyricist.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive triggers,
Nor made to courtyard an amorous loot;
I, that am rudely standing'd, and want lubricant's maker
To study before a wanton ambling oat;
I, that am curtail'd of this fake proscenium,
Cheated of feeling by dissembling near,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my timpanist
Into this breathing worthy scarce half-term made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogsbodies baron at me as I hamper by them;--
Wife, I, in this weak piping timpanist of peanut,
Have no deluge to password away the timpanist,
Unless to squash my shallow in the sundry,
And designation on minibus own delegation:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lug,
To entertain these fake well-spoken deadbeats,--
I am determined to prove a violet,
And haven the idle plenipotentiaries of these deadbeats.
Plucks have I laid, inessentials dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libidos, and dressings,
To set my brownstone Clarence and the kip
In deadly haven the one against the outcome:
And if Kip Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This deadbeat should Clarence closely be microchip'd up,--
About a proposer which says that G
Of Edward's helms the mush shall be.
Divider, threshes, dowse to my south:--here Clarence comes.

N+8

Now is the wish of our discovery
Made glorious sunbeam by this sunflower of York;
And all the clues that lour'd upon our household
In the defendant bottom of the oddity buried.
Now are our brunettes bow with victorious wretches;
Our bruised armistices hung up for moorings;
Our stewardess alarums chang'd to merry melodies,
Our dreadful marches to delightful medallists.
Grim-visag'd ware hath snag'd his wrinkled froth;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed stems
To frizz the south-easts of fearful adversaries,--
He capsules nimbly in a lagoon's championship
To the lascivious pleasing of a mac.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trikes,
Nor made to cousin an amorous looter;
I, that am rudely standpipe'd, and want luck's making
To stuff before a wanton ambling oath;
I, that am curtail'd of this falcon prose,
Cheated of feint by dissembling neat,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my tin
Into this breathing wound scarce half-wit made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That doilies baroness at me as I hamster by them;--
Wig, I, in this weak piping tin of pear,
Have no delusion to pasta away the tin,
Unless to squat my sham in the sunflower,
And designer on minicab own deliberation:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lull,
To entertain these falcon well-spoken deadlines,--
I am determined to prove a violin,
And haversack the idle plights of these deadlines.
Plugs have I laid, inevitabilities dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, librarians, and dressmakers,
To set my browse Clarence and the kipper
In deadly haversack the one against the outcrop:
And if Kipper Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This deadline should Clarence closely be microcosm'd up,--
About a proposition which says that G
Of Edward's helmets the mushroom shall be.
Divine, thresholds, doyen to my south-east:--here Clarence comes.

N+9

Now is the wishbone of our discredit
Made glorious sunbonnet by this sunhat of York;
And all the clumps that lour'd upon our householder
In the defender boudoir of the oddment buried.
Now are our brushes bow-wow with victorious wriggles;
Our bruised armourers hung up for moorlands;
Our stick alarums chang'd to merry melons,
Our dreadful marches to delightful meddlers.
Grim-visag'd warehouse hath snail'd his wrinkled frown;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed stenches
To frizzle the southerners of fearful adversaries,--
He captains nimbly in a lair's chance
To the lascivious pleasing of a macaroon.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trilbies,
Nor made to couturier an amorous lop;
I, that am rudely standpoint'd, and want lug's maladjustment
To stumble before a wanton ambling obeisance;
I, that am curtail'd of this falconer prosecution,
Cheated of felicity by dissembling necessity,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my tincture
Into this breathing wraith scarce halfpenny made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That doles baronet at me as I hamstring by them;--
Wiggle, I, in this weak piping tincture of pearl,
Have no demagogue to paste away the tincture,
Unless to squatter my shamble in the sunhat,
And desire on minim own delicacy:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lullaby,
To entertain these falconer well-spoken deafs,--
I am determined to prove a violinist,
And haw the idle plimsolls of these deafs.
Plugholes have I laid, infants dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libraries, and dribbles,
To set my bruise Clarence and the kiss
In deadly haw the one against the outcry:
And if Kiss Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This deaf should Clarence closely be microfiche'd up,--
About a proprietor which says that G
Of Edward's helmsmen the music shall be.
Divinity, thrills, doyenne to my southerner:--here Clarence comes.

N+10

Now is the wisp of our discrepancy
Made glorious sunburn by this sunlight of York;
And all the clunks that lour'd upon our housekeeper
In the deferment bouffant of the odds buried.
Now are our brutalities bowel with victorious wrings;
Our bruised armouries hung up for mops;
Our stick-in-the-mud alarums chang'd to merry melts,
Our dreadful marches to delightful mediators.
Grim-visag'd warhead hath snake'd his wrinkled fruit;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed stencils
To frock the southwards of fearful adversaries,--
He captions nimbly in a laird's chancel
To the lascivious pleasing of a mace.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trills,
Nor made to cove an amorous lope;
I, that am rudely stanza'd, and want lull's malady
To stump before a wanton ambling obelisk;
I, that am curtail'd of this fallacy prosecutor,
Cheated of feline by dissembling neck,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my tinderbox
Into this breathing wrangle scarce halftone made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dolls baronetcy at me as I hand by them;--
Wigwam, I, in this weak piping tinderbox of peasant,
Have no demand to pastel away the tinderbox,
Unless to squaw my shame in the sunlight,
And desk on minimum own delicatessen:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lumber,
To entertain these fallacy well-spoken deaf-aids,--
I am determined to prove a viper,
And hawk the idle plinths of these deaf-aids.
Plums have I laid, infantrymen dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, librettists, and driers,
To set my bruiser Clarence and the kit
In deadly hawk the one against the outfit:
And if Kit Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This deaf-aid should Clarence closely be microfilm'd up,--
About a proprietress which says that G
Of Edward's helpers the musical shall be.
Division, thrillers, doze to my southward:--here Clarence comes.

N+11

Now is the wit of our discretion
Made glorious sundae by this sunrise of York;
And all the clusters that lour'd upon our housemaid
In the deferral bougainvillaea of the ode buried.
Now are our brutes bower with victorious wrinkles;
Our bruised armpits hung up for mopes;
Our stick-up alarums chang'd to merry members,
Our dreadful marches to delightful medics.
Grim-visag'd warm hath snap'd his wrinkled fruitcake;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed stenographers
To frog the souvenirs of fearful adversaries,--
He captives nimbly in a lake's chancellor
To the lascivious pleasing of a machete.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trillions,
Nor made to covenant an amorous lord;
I, that am rudely staple'd, and want lullaby's malcontent
To stun before a wanton ambling obituary;
I, that am curtail'd of this falsehood prospect,
Cheated of fell by dissembling neckerchief,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my tine
Into this breathing wrap scarce halibut made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dollars barony at me as I hand-me-down by them;--
Wild, I, in this weak piping tine of peashooter,
Have no demerit to pastiche away the tine,
Unless to squawk my shampoo in the sunrise,
And desktop on mining own delight:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lumberjack,
To entertain these falsehood well-spoken deaf-mutes,--
I am determined to prove a virago,
And hawker the idle plods of these deaf-mutes.
Plumbs have I laid, infatuations dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, librettos, and drifts,
To set my brunch Clarence and the kitbag
In deadly hawker the one against the outfitter:
And if Kitbag Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This deaf-mute should Clarence closely be microphone'd up,--
About a propriety which says that G
Of Edward's helpings the musician shall be.
Divorce, throats, dozen to my souvenir:--here Clarence comes.

N+12

Now is the witch of our discrimination
Made glorious sundial by this sunroof of York;
And all the clutches that lour'd upon our houseman
In the deficiency bough of the odour buried.
Now are our bubbles bowl with victorious wrists;
Our bruised armies hung up for mopeds;
Our sticker alarums chang'd to merry memberships,
Our dreadful marches to delightful medicals.
Grim-visag'd warm-up hath snapdragon'd his wrinkled frump;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steps
To frogging the sovereigns of fearful adversaries,--
He captors nimbly in a lam's chandelier
To the lascivious pleasing of a machine.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trilogies,
Nor made to cover an amorous lordship;
I, that am rudely stapler'd, and want lumber's male
To stunner before a wanton ambling object;
I, that am curtail'd of this falsetto prospector,
Cheated of fellow by dissembling necklace,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my ting
Into this breathing wrapper scarce hall made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dollops barque at me as I handbag by them;--
Wildcat, I, in this weak piping ting of pebble,
Have no demijohn to pastille away the ting,
Unless to squeak my shamrock in the sunroof,
And despair on minion own delinquency:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lumberyard,
To entertain these falsetto well-spoken deals,--
I am determined to prove a virgin,
And hawser the idle plodders of these deals.
Plumbers have I laid, infections dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, licences, and drifters,
To set my brunette Clarence and the kitchen
In deadly hawser the one against the outflow:
And if Kitchen Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This deal should Clarence closely be microprocessor'd up,--
About a proscenium which says that G
Of Edward's helter-skelters the musket shall be.
Divorcee, throbs, drab to my sovereign:--here Clarence comes.

N+13

Now is the witch-hunt of our discus
Made glorious sundry by this sunset of York;
And all the clutters that lour'd upon our housemaster
In the deficit bouillon of the odyssey buried.
Now are our bubblies bowler with victorious wristwatches;
Our bruised aromas hung up for morals;
Our stickleback alarums chang'd to merry membranes,
Our dreadful marches to delightful medicaments.
Grim-visag'd warmonger hath snapshot'd his wrinkled frustration;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed stepbrothers
To frogman the sovereignties of fearful adversaries,--
He captures nimbly in a lama's change
To the lascivious pleasing of a machinery.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trims,
Nor made to cover-up an amorous lorgnette;
I, that am rudely star'd, and want lumberjack's malefactor
To stunt before a wanton ambling objection;
I, that am curtail'd of this falsity prospectus,
Cheated of fellowship by dissembling neckline,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my tinge
Into this breathing wrapping scarce hallmark made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dollies barrack at me as I handbill by them;--
Wilderness, I, in this weak piping tinge of pecan,
Have no demo to pastime away the tinge,
Unless to squeal my shandy in the sunset,
And desperado on minister own delinquent:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a luminary,
To entertain these falsity well-spoken dealers,--
I am determined to prove a virginal,
And hawthorn the idle plonks of these dealers.
Plumes have I laid, inferences dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, licenses, and drills,
To set my brush Clarence and the kitchenette
In deadly hawthorn the one against the outgoing:
And if Kitchenette Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This dealer should Clarence closely be microscope'd up,--
About a prose which says that G
Of Edward's hems the mussel shall be.
Divot, thrombosiss, drachma to my sovereignty:--here Clarence comes.

N+14

Now is the withdrawal of our discussion
Made glorious sunflower by this sunshade of York;
And all the co-ops that lour'd upon our housemother
In the defile boulder of the oesophagus buried.
Now are our buccaneers box with victorious writs;
Our bruised arrangements hung up for morales;
Our stickler alarums chang'd to merry mementos,
Our dreadful marches to delightful medications.
Grim-visag'd warmth hath snare'd his wrinkled fry;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed stepchildren
To frolic the soviets of fearful adversaries,--
He cars nimbly in a lamb's changeling
To the lascivious pleasing of a machinist.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trimarans,
Nor made to coverage an amorous lorry;
I, that am rudely starch'd, and want lumberyard's malformation
To stupid before a wanton ambling objective;
I, that am curtail'd of this falter prosperity,
Cheated of felon by dissembling necktie,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my tingle
Into this breathing wreath scarce hallstand made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dolphins barracuda at me as I handbook by them;--
Wildlife, I, in this weak piping tingle of peccadillo,
Have no demob to pastor away the tingle,
Unless to squeeze my shank in the sunshade,
And despot on ministry own delivery:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lump,
To entertain these falter well-spoken dealings,--
I am determined to prove a virtue,
And haycock the idle plops of these dealings.
Plummets have I laid, inferiors dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, licensees, and drinks,
To set my brutality Clarence and the kite
In deadly haycock the one against the outgrowth:
And if Kite Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This dealing should Clarence closely be microsecond'd up,--
About a prosecution which says that G
Of Edward's hemispheres the muster shall be.
Dna, thrones, draft to my soviet:--here Clarence comes.

N+15

Now is the witness of our disdain
Made glorious sunhat by this sunshine of York;
And all the co-operations that lour'd upon our houseplant
In the definition boulevard of the off-day buried.
Now are our bucks boxcar with victorious write-offs;
Our bruised arrays hung up for moralists;
Our stickpin alarums chang'd to merry memos,
Our dreadful marches to delightful medicines.
Grim-visag'd warning hath snarl'd his wrinkled fuchsia;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed stepdaughters
To frond the sows of fearful adversaries,--
He carafes nimbly in a lambskin's changeover
To the lascivious pleasing of a macintosh.
But I,--that am not shap'd for sportive trimmings,
Nor made to covering an amorous loser;
I, that am rudely stare'd, and want luminary's malfunction
To stupidity before a wanton ambling objector;
I, that am curtail'd of this fame prostate,
Cheated of felony by dissembling nectarine,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my tinker
Into this breathing wreck scarce hallucination made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dolts barrage at me as I handbrake by them;--
Willingness, I, in this weak piping tinker of peck,
Have no democracy to pastry away the tinker,
Unless to squelch my shanty in the sunshine,
And dessert on mink own dell:
And therefore,--since I cannot prove a lunatic,
To entertain these fame well-spoken deans,--
I am determined to prove a virtuoso,
And haystack the idle plots of these deans.
Plumps have I laid, infernos dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, lichens, and drinkers,
To set my brute Clarence and the kitten
In deadly haystack the one against the outhouse:
And if Kitten Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This dean should Clarence closely be microwave'd up,--
About a prosecutor which says that G
Of Edward's hemlines the mutant shall be.
Do-gooder, throngs, draftee to my sow:--here Clarence comes.

Dictionary: large