The night hade... And superful shrong naken don toke.

Les what might of the and emptive.
She forget readloc
Too a was you will of res
A may of my his goes there man blost hangeants to sod
Yearts and he word rendin thisten with of the so dards and you shalled
Ameth ever agogued the was but old humb
Not leapoly afar
I may place arough a know
Were was wher lord of the brom four evens above your sing my brazy say danciend
For lost is battle fade us poor our no bey's we neat hadows raven the grince of the everathe tria.
And mr. Went us hard
The do new
Once words
Ared world.
When the softerria
Have arought ten shous at these to spoked of wearth
Upon the deadful with and sing
And say sainto mangermies their feets and see alls.

[A few folk might remember a strange feedback conversation system I did a long while ago, called Disco - this is the same sort of system by which it generated responses (a kind of weighted Markov chain (that's not really right in any regard, but it's a useful lie)) let loose on the poems of G K Chesterton].

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