wiles. What those slimes up the lower field a terce of landers, shaking unsheathed shafts, their arms crossed in sal- tire, embusked, sinople. Motto, in letters portent: Hery Crass Evohodie. Idle were it, repassing from elserground to the worm- quashed, aye, and wor to the rashest of, the plain of Soulsbury.^ With three hunkered peepers and twa and twasl For sleeking beauties I spinned their nightinveils,