Lowly, longly a wail went forth. Pure Yawn lay low. |aIn Ona| the mead of the hillock he lay, the brief wallet by his side, one |ahand arma| still loosely on his staff of citron wood. briar. Dis Most distressfully (but, |aah my deara|, how successfully!) he wailed, his |agolden |brichlooking rippling quickrich |crippled riperipplingc|b|a| locks downflo unfilleted, his |alashful lashbetasselleda| lids |aat on the b the verge ofa| closing time, and out of his |asidewaysopen sidewiseopena| mouth the breath of him, as |asweet as any languishing as the princeliesta| golden syrup |ayou |bmoney a purseb|a| could buy. Yawn in a semiswoon was wailing. And, |aO hooh!a|, |ahis |bhow much honey unread what heaps of honeyfedb|a| sweetness! |aO Phew!a|, |athe piercing his earpiercinga| dulcitude! As though you were to go and push |aa pin with your bluntproof pin |bin |ceach eitherc| handb|a| into the |ahinterplush fleshplush |bcushionettesb|a| of a chubby angeline |aangeleen unread |bangelboy unread |clovablec| boybold love of an angelb|a|.