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#1 |
Byronic Brand
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: The 1590s
Posts: 2,778
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Lest yonder songster my high speech deride,
Or call a usurpation of his staves, I do refrain form poet's lofty place, I speak but as a gentleman's envoy, A knight's forerunner now without a knight, Just as in camps, or armaments, or siege The heralds trumpet to a crimson sky, And vaunt their masters' fame in "poesy". Alas that to base rhyme I now resort! Forgive me minstrel-'twould disgrace a court. Now, butcher, miner, all ye peasants stout What think ye of the murderer about?
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Among the friendly dead, being bad at games did not seem to matter -Il Lupo Fenriso |
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#2 | ||
Itinerant Songster
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: The Edge of Faerie
Posts: 7,066
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Quote:
Rather I would hear from those who have not spoken yet. Quote:
So far I find nothing of any merit on which to decide a thing or comment .... that is, in terms of werewolves and murderers. Last edited by littlemanpoet; 02-28-2006 at 04:42 PM. |
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#3 | ||
Flame of the Ainulindalë
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Quote:
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which something or -one might exploit, by hiding this very first day, and let us happily each other devour. But having this mentality, of suspecting silence, we might drive out the devil, to show even a part of himself, or her, who knows?
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Upon the hearth the fire is red Beneath the roof there is a bed; But not yet weary are our feet... |
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