Faber and Faber (London: 1939) III.2§C

First edition, first printing (details)

Echo, read ending! Siparioramoci!º But from the stress of their sunder enlivening, ayº clasp, deciduously, a nikrokosmikon must come to mike.

— Well, my positively last at any stage! I hate to look at alarms but however they put on my watchcraftº must now close as I hereby hear |shby earsh| from byº seeless socks 'tis time to be up and ambling. Mymiddle toe's mitching, so mizzle I must else 'twill sarve me out. Gulp a bulper at parting and the moore the melodest.º Farewell but whenever, as Tisdall told Toole. Tempos fidgets. |shLet flee me fiacckles, says the grand old manoark,sh| |shstormcrested crowcock and undulant hairsh|, |shhoodiessh| tway! Yes, faith, I am as mew let freer, |shbeneath me corthage, boundsh|. I'm as bored now bawling beersgrace at sorepaws there as Andrew Clays was sharing sawdust with Daniel's old collie. This shack's not big enough for me now. |shI'm dreaming of ye,º| And, |shrememberº this,º a chorines,sh| there's the witch on the heath, sistra! 'Bansheebaº peeling hourihaared while her Orcotron is hoaring
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And whinn muinnuitº flittsbit twinn her ttittshe cries tallmidy! Daughters of the heavens, be lucks in turnaboutsº to the wandering sons of red loam! The earth's atrot! The sun'sº a scream! The air's a jig.º |shThe water's great!sh| |shSeven oldy oldyº hills and the one blue beamerº.sh| I'm going. I know I am. I couldbetº I am. Somewhere I must getº far away from Banbashoreº, wherever I am. |shNo saddle, no staffet, but spur on the moment.ºsh| So I think I'll take freeboots' advise.º Psk! I'll borrow a path to lend me wings, quickquack,º and from Jehusalem's wall, clickclack,º me courser's clear toº Cheerup streetº I'll travel the void world over. It's Winland for moyne, bickbuck! Geejakers! I hurt meself nettly that time! Come, my good frogmarchers! We felt the fall but we'll front the defile. Was not my oltyº mutther, Sereth Maritza, a Runningwaterº? And the bould one that quickened her the seaborne Fingale?º I feel like that hill of a whaler went yuldingº round Groenmund's Circus with his tree full of seaweeds and Dinky Doll asleep in her shell. Hazelridge has seen me. Jerneº valing is. Squall aboard for Kew, hop! Farewell awhile to her and thee!º The brine's my bride to be. Lead on, Macadam, and danked be he who first sights Halt Linduff! Solo, solone, solong! Lood Erynnana, ware thee wail! With me singame soarem o'erem! |shHere's me take offº.sh| Now's nunc or nimmer, siskinder! Here goes the enemy! Bennydick hotfoots onimpudent stayers.º Sorry! I bless alls to the whished with this panromainº apological which Watllwewhistlemº sang to the kerrycoys. Break ranks! After |shwage-of-battlesh| bother I am thinking most. Fik yew! I'm through. Won. Toe. Adry. You watch my smoke.

After poor Jaun the Boast's last fireless words of postludium of his soapbox speech ending in'sheaven,º twentyaid add one with a flirt of wings were pouring to his bysistanceº (could they snip that curl of curls to lay with their gloves and keep the kids bright!)º |shprepared to cheer him should he leap or to curse him should he fall,sh| but, |shwithº their biga triga rheda rodeo,º the cherubsº in the charabangsh|, |shset downº here and sedan chairsh|, |shdon't you wish you'd a yoke or a bit in your mouthsh|,º repulsing all attempts
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at first hands on, as no es nada, our greatly misunderstood one we perceived to give himself some sort of a hermetic prod or kick to sit up and take notice, which acted like magic, while the phalanx of daughters of February Filldyke, embushedº and climbing, ramblers and weeps,º voiced approval in their customary manner by dropping kneedeep in tears over their concelebrated meednight sunflower, piopadey boy, their solase in dorckaness, and splattering together joyously the plaps of their tappyhandsº as, with a cry of genuine distress, so prettly prattly |shpollyloguesh|, they viewed him, the just one, their darling, away.

A dream of favours, a favourable dream. They know how they believe that they believe that they know. Wherefore they wail.

Eh jourd'weh!º Oh jourd'woe!º dosiriouslyº it psalmodied. Guesturn's lothlied answring to-maronite'sº wail.

Oasis, cedarous esaltarshoming Leafboughnoon!

Oisis, coolpressus onmountof Sighing!

Oasis, palmost esaltarshoming Gladdays!

Oisis, phantastichal roseway anjerichol!

Oasis, newleavosº spaciosing encampness!

Oisis, plantainous dewstuckacqmirage playtennis!

Pipetto, Pipetta has misery unnoticed!

But the strangest thing happened. Backscuttling for the hop offº |shwith the odds altogether in favour of his tumbling into the riversh|, Jaunº just then I saw to collect from the gentlest weaner among the weiners, (whoº by this were in half droopleaflong mourning for the passing of the last post)º the familiar yellow label into which he let fall a drop, smothered a curse, choked a guffaw, spat expectoratiously and blew his own trumpet. And next thing was he gummalicked the stickyback side and stamped the oval badge of belief to his agnelowsº brow with a genuine dash of irrepressibleº piety that readily turned his ladylike typmanzelles capsy curvyº (the holy scamp!),º withº half a glance of Irish frisky (|sha Juan Jaimesansh| hastaluego) from under the shag of his parallel brows. It was then he made as if beº butº waved instead a handacross the seaº as notice to quit while the pacifettes made their armpacts widdershins (Frida! Freda!
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Paza! Paisy! Irine!º Areinette! Bridomay!º Bentamai! Sososopky!º Bebebekka! Bababadkessy! Ghugugoothoyou! Dama! Damadomina! Takiya! Tokaya! Scioccara! Siuccherillina!º Peocchia! Peucchia! Ho Mi Hoping! Ha Me Happinice! Mirra! Myrha! Solyma! Salemita! Sainta! Sianta! O Peace!),º but in selfrighting the balance of his corporeity to reexchange widerembraceº with the pillarbosom of the Dizzier he loved prettier,º between estellos and venoussas, bad luck to the lie but whenº next to nobody expected,º their star and gartergazer |shat the summit of hisº climaxsh|, he toppledº a lipple on to the off and, making a brandnew start for himself |shto run down his eastingsh|,º by blessing hes sthers with the sign of the southern cross, his bungaloid borsaline with the hedgygreen bound blew off in a loveblast |sh(award for trover!)sh| and Jawjon Redhead, bucketing after,º meccamaniac,º (the headless shall have legs!),º kingscouriered round with an easy rush and ready relays by the bridge |sha stadionsh| beyond Ladycastle (and |shwhat herm butsh| he narrowly missed fouling her buttress for her but for he acqueducked) and then, cocking a snook at the stock of his sermons, so mear and yet so fahr from that region's general, away with him at the double, the hulk of a garron, pelting after the road,º on Shanks'sº mare, letº off like a wind houndº looseº (the bouchal! you'd think it was that moment they gave him theº jambos!) withº a posse of tossing hankerwaves to his windward like seraph's summonses |shon the airsh| and a tempest of good things in packetshape teeming from all accounts into the funnel of his fanmail shrimpnet,º along the highroad of the nation, Traitor'sº Track, following which fond |shfloral fraysh| he was quickly lost to sight through the statuemenº though without a doubt he was all the more on that same headº to memory dearº while Sickerson, that borne of bjoerne, la garde auxiliaireº she murmured, hellyg Ursulinka,º full of woe (and how fitlier should goodboy'sº hand be shook than by the warmin of her besom that wrung his swaddles?): Where maggot Harvey kneeled till bags? Ate Andrew coos hogdam farvel!º

Wethenº,º now, may the good people speed you, rural Haun, export stout fellow that you are, |shthe crooner bornsh| with |shsweet
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wail of evoker
sh|, |shhealing musicsh|,º ay, and heart in hand of Shamrogueshire! The googoos of the suckabolly in the rockabeddy are become the copiosity of wiseableness of the friarylayman in the pulpitbarrel. May your bawny hair grow rarer and fairer, our own only wideheaded boy! Rest your voice! Feed your mind! Mint your peas! Coax your qyous! Come to disdoon blarmeyº and walk our groves so charming and see again the sweet rockeloseº where first you hymned O Ciesaº Mea!º andº touch the light theorbo.º |shSongster, angler, choreographer!sh| |shPiper to prisoned!sh| |shMusicianshipsh| made |shEmbrassador-at-Largesh|! Good by nature and natural by design, had you but been spared to us,º Hauneen lad,º but sure where's the use my talking quicker when I know you'll hear me all astray? My long farewell I send to you, fair dream of sport and game and always something new. Gone is Haun! My grief, my ruin! Our Joss-el-Jovan! Our Chris-na-Murty! 'Tis wellº you'll be looked after from last to first as yon beam of light we follow receding on your photophoric pilgrimage to your antipodes in the past, youº who so often consigned your distributoryº tidings of great joy into our nevertoolatetolove box, mansuetudinous manipulator, victimisedly victorihoarse, dearest Haun ofº all,º you of the boots, true as adieº, stepwalker, pennyatimer,º lampaddyfair, postanulengro, our rommanychiel! Thy now palingº light lucerne we ne'er may see again. But could it speak how nicely would it splutter to the four cantons praises be to thee, |shour pattern sentsh|! For you had — may I, in our, your and their names, dare to say it? — the nucleus of a glow of aº zeal of soul of service such as rarely if ever have I met withº single men. |shNumerous are those whosh|, nay, there are a dozen of folks still unclaimed by the death angel in this country of ours today, humbleº indivisibles in this grand continuum, overlorded by fate and interlarded with accidence,º who, while there are hours and days,º will fervently pray to the spiritº above that they may never depart this earth of theirs till in his long run fromº that place where the day begins, |shere he retourneys postexilicsh|, onº that day that belongsº to joyful Ireland, the people that is of all time, the old old oldest, the young young youngest, after decades of
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longsuffering and decennia of brief gloryº, to mind us of what was when and to matter us of the witheringº of our waysº, their Janyouare Fibyouare wins true from Sylvesterº (only Walkerº himself is like Waltzer, whimsicalissimo they go murmurand) comes marching ahomeº on the summer crust of the flagway. Life, it is true,º will be a blank without you |shbecause avicuum's not there at allsh|, to nomore cares from nomad knows,º |shere Molochy wars bring the devil era,sh| a slip of the time between a date and a ghostmark, rived by darby's chilldays embers, spatched fun Juhn that dandyforth, from the night we are and feel and fade with to the yesterselves we tread to turnupon.

But, boy, you did your strong nine furlong mile in slick and slapstick record time and a farfetched deed it was in troth, champion docile,º with your high bouncing gait of goingº and your feat of passage will be contested with you and through you,º for centuries to come. |shThe phaynix rose a sun before Erebia sank his smother! Shoot up on that, bright Bennu bird!sh| Va faotre! |shEftsoon so too will our own sphoenix spark spirt his spyre and sunward stride the rampanteº| Ay, already the sombrer opacities of the gloom are sphanished! Braveº footsore Haun! Work your progress! Hold to! Now! Win out, ye divil ye! The silent cock shall crow at last. The west shall shake the east awake. Walk while ye have the nightº for morn, lightbreakfastbringer, morroweth whereon every past shall full fost sleep. Amain.