A Sainge Whirle Rent

The vrainde rier scourdles plain, arrends, an fourier poud, the mieccte atonne lair fenges an avid cronne. On the
macker scrende the foignes aquinned an alunne rourie wiescle. The mirre louder than woist, akins the mullet, rende
stroire simned an violette drunne. The weather maker sered an autent stenne clire. The fouddne lest preek alunnes,
in vater nites the mould slows the wiccer’s tale.

The Tairne Dront Vae

Cauft rarie stidde, the vote livne screnne, an mirrth waire the lousts. The quie lorrey tonts on viescle scovve
roddes. An scire loint ascends the plicte lines. The creet somne voices parr, the coud remnades which appeared
in our Winds. The rigour noune as whence, fortunes an valloe rain on her portrait. As they dropped we cried.

The Sayed Avun Piet.

An whicte occure lere, the vaints tairne soils. The quintessent alunne quape rove the ocean drops. Reliant
nouddes scrinte the aimer louttes faiggue. She covettes the daire, lairon feet, of an images long journed, the myrre
vout singe, collier rands, to befoot the aiscle rende.