1st draft, November-December 1937, II.2§5 draft level 0

MS British Library 47478 319-322 Draft details

RM14 |aWhile And as Andº as, these things being |bso, and so or ereb| those things having beenº done,a| way back home in Pacata |aHibernia, Auburniaº F75a| |alittle land untilled (|sbuntilledy untillablysb| holy iland, gammel Eire, Eire),ºa| LM52 one |aword worlda| burrowing on another,º Standfest, our |atopical topiocal sagoaºa| hero, signs is on |ahis big the bellygutes bellygurds bellygud'sºa| bastille back|a, bucked up with fullness,a| and his |awhite whitehatcheda| patch, the towelturbaned, and Flower, aº silvering to her jubilee,F76 |awith eve's birch leaves for birchleavesa| her jointure, our |alady lavya| in waving, |agirt with a wraparound,a| visage full of flesh and fat as a hen's |ain i'a| forehead, Airyanna and Blowybart,º topsir and turvy, LM53 that royal pair,º |a(though of course he's too big for her with such a lot of fulness bucked up behind him)a| in their |aofttimes slated house of the hundred bottles, aa| palace of quicken boughs hightº The Goat and Compasses ('phone number 17·69º, if you want to knowF77),º |adiscusst the past,a| his |asea arms round seaarm strongsrounda| her, her |avelivolea| eyne ashipwracked, |ahave discusst their things of the past,a| |athe angerache of their love and the hungerbrood it bore 'em crime and fable with shame, home and profit,F78 why lui lied to lei and him hun tried to kill hama|, scribbledehobbles, in whose veinsº runs a mixture of are head bent and hard upon. Spell me the chimes. They are tales all tolled.F79 LM54 Today is well thine but whoseº may tomorrow be?º But, bless his cowly head and press his |acrinkly cranklya| hat, what a |aworld world's woea| is each's
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other's weariness waiting to |ahear beadrolla| his own |aproper properera| mistakes, LM55 the backslapping gladhanderº F80 free of his florid future and the other singing likenessº dirging
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a past
of bloody altars, gale with a blost to him, |agale dovea| without gall. And she, not leashed of the jilldaw's nestF81 who tears up letters lettereens she never |aposed apposeda| a pen uponF82. What's Hiccupper to hem or her to Hagaba? Ough, ough, brieve kindli!F83

RM15 Dogs' vespers are anending. |a|bVespertiliabitur.b| Goteshoph Goteshoppard quits his gabhard cloke to sate with Becchus. Zumbok!º Achèvre!a| Yet wind will be ere ere fadervorF84 and the hour of fruminy if Nippon have pearls LM57 or opals Eldorado, the daindy dish, the lecking out! For long 'tis till gets bright that all cocks waken |aand birds Diana with dawnsong haila|. Aught darks |aflough floua| a duskness. Bats that? There peepeestrilling. At Brennan's on the moor. LM58 At Tam Fanagan's weak yat his still's going strang. Still here is noctules and can tell things |aacommon ona| |aby |bfor byb|a| that fluffy feeling. Larges loomy wheelhousesº lumber up |ato lodgeboxº F86a| with hoodie hearsemen carrawain LM59 we keep hisº peace who follow his law, Sunday
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King.F87 His sevencoloured's soot |a(Ochone! Ochonal!) a| and his imponence one heap lumpblock |a(Ma Mogoul!)a|. LM60 And Rivers burst out like weeming |arushesround racesrounda| joydrinks for the fewnrally.F89 The welling breast, the willing Whereº every feaster's a foster's other|a, fianniansº alla|.F90 LM61 The welling breastº, |athe herºa| willing giant, |athe |bher theb|a| mountain mourning,º |athe hisa| duggedy dew. |a|shTo obedient of LM62 civicity in urbanious at felicity what'll yet meek Mike our diputy mimber when he's head on poll and Peter's burgess and Miss Mishy Mushy is tiptupt by Toft Taft. Goblesseº| |shFor as Anna was at the beginning,º lives yet and will return rerising under after dee great deep sleep rerising and a white night high with theº cows of Drommhiem as shower as there's a wet enclouded in Westwicklow or a little black rose a truant in a| We drames our dreams tillº Bappy returns. And Sein annews.a| |aShuttle So shuttle ona| the sacred |arattle magirattlera|, Simmy. And Sam, Sam, son,º the pipers done.º F92 |aEric aboy! a| And it's time that all paid tribute to this massive mortiality, LM65 the pink of punk perfection as photography in mud. Some may seek to dodge the
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for its quantity of quality but who wants to cheat the choker's got to learn to chew the cud. Allwhichhole scribesº on scroll |shcircuminiuminluminatedhavesh|. With a |aposy pansya| for the pussy in the corner.F95

RM16 Bewise of Fanciulla'sº heart, the heart of Fanciulla. Even the recollection of willow |aleaves frondsa| is a spellbinder that lets to hear. The rushes by the grey nuns' pond: ah eh oh let me sigh too. Coalmansbell: behoves you handmake of the load. Jenny Wren: pick, peck. Johnny Post: pack, puck. All the |aworld world's in want anda| is writing a letters. A letters from a person to a place about a thing. And all the world's |aaºa| wish to be carrying a letters. A letters to a king from a cat about a treasure from a cat. When men want to write a letter. Ten men, ton men, pen men, pun men, wont to rise a ladder. And den men, dun men, fen men, fun men, hen men, hun men wend to |araid a litter raze a leadera|. Is then any lettersday from many peoples, Daganasanavitch? Empire, your outermost. A posy card. Plece.