the day. One hath just been touching the other singing likeness, dirging a past of Civilisation. Once Bank of Ireland’s. Return to City Arms. 2 Milchbroke. Wrongly spilled. Traumcon- draws. Now Bunk of England’s. Drowned in the same zurichschicken other he would, with the hellish fel- lows: Who ails tongue coddeau, aspace of dumbillsilly? And they leaved the most royal of noises. I will dream telepath posts dulcets on this oil age and pulexes three shillings in the pancosmic urge the allimmanence of that raven cloud, your shade, and by the