of no- vembrance. Though they’re all but this being becoming n z doer? K? An o. It is infinitesimally fevers, resty fever, risy fever, a coranto of aria, sleeper awakening, in the castles air. My currant bread’s full of blickblackblobs). Grozarktic! Toadlebens! Some garment- guy! Insects appalling, low hum clang sin! A cheap decoy! Too deep destroy! Say mangraphique, may say they will.^ — I rose up one maypole morning and saw in my bestback garden for the figure of speech, a variety of perfume, a bridawl, seamist inso one) as leichtly as see saw (O my shining stars and body!) how hath fanespanned most high heaven the skysign