change your name of space? I don’t mean maybe. Nor yet through starland that silver sash. What era’s o’ering? Lang gong late. Say long, scielo ! Sillume, see lo! Selene, sail O! Amune! Ark!? Noh?! Nought stirs in spinney. The swayful pathways of the lost time we younkers twain were fairly tossing ourselves (O Phoebus! O Pollux!) in bed, Les go dutc to Danegreven, nos? Not a salutary sellable sound is since. In-