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King. 1 His sevencoloured's soot (Ochone!
; ; ; ; ; ;
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Ochonal!) 2 and his imponence one heap lump-
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block (Mogoul!). And rivers burst out like
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weeming racesround joydrinks for the fewnral-
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ly, 3 where every feaster's a foster's other, fian-
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nians all. 4 The wellingbreast, he willing giant,
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the mountain mourning his duggedy dew. To
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obedient of civicity in urbanious at felicity
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what'll yet meek Mike 5 our diputy mimber when
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he's head on poll and Peter's burgess and Miss
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Mishy Mushy is tiptupt by Toft Taft. Boblesse
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gobleege. For as Anna was at the beginning
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lives yet and will return after great deap sleap
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rerising and a white night high with a cows of
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Drommhiem as shower as there's a wet en-
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clouded in Westwicklow or a little black rose a
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truant in a thorntree. We drames our dreams
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tell Bappy returns. And Sein annews. We will
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not say it shall not be, this passing of order and
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order's coming, but in the herbest country and
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in the country around Blath as in that city self
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of legionds they look for its being ever yet. So
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shuttle the pipers done. 6 Eric aboy! 7 And it's
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time that all paid tribute to this massive mor-
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tiality, the pink of punk perfection as photo-
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graphy in mud. Some may seek to dodge the 
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