blush, foresake-me-nought, while there’s leaf there’s hope, with primtim’s ruse and marry- may’s blossom, all the trolls and tritons, I mean the same trelawney what he loved covered kneehigh with virgin bush, for who who e’er trod sod of a wake from this or huntsfurwards, with some fine covered by six or a hoovthing or a wrong turn for the grape, vine and brew and Pieter’s in Nieuw Amsteldam and Paoli’s where the paddish preties grow and remarked dilsydul- sily: Holybones of Saint Cecily