Parte Two

Woodcut

Mij memoory chale newyr fayle mea whennewyr I migth chooſe to recawl that daye: I remembre that I hayd bine lokynge don in they deppyts of my thouwt in that moment, thynkeynge abowtt thoſe laſt eyres and aull that thou and I hayd begoun to ſpake of ſo reſſently, and ſempylly gayſſynge abowtt they ſinery of they roome as whe maid howr ſempyll ſmaull tallk. I ſat thar wondrynge as whe ſpooke hauw ytt whas that I hayd newyr reallie notiſſyd thee befoor, that ytt whas aullmooſt melaynchoulie, in a waye, that I hayd newyr hayd they opoortunitie to gyte to kno thee yerlyr in my lyfe; bwt natheles I whas ſtyll ſo vary glayd for ws to hauef ſharyd at lyſte they fewe moments that whe hayd.

❧ And thenne I glauncyd vpp at thee whilſt thou weare iuſt ſettynge thar, and ytt ſodenlie ſtrock mea hauw ſo vary prity thou art, that thou reallie art ſo meſs moare then iuſt ſempylly ſwche a vary buityfoll mynd. Aull of a ſoden I felt mine yees hayd bine oppenyd to whot I hayd bine too diſtractyd in my lyfe to ſey befoor, and I coold eyſily ſaye that in that qwiett moment thou becamſt iuſt ſo vary, ſo vary abſolewtlie, inchauntynge. In thy Buity and in thy Thouwt, in thyne Hart and in thy Sawle, eueretyngg abowtt thee puet mea into ſwche a peſſefoll tranqwillitie, aullmooſt ane euphorick and myſtiryous kynde of Bramminick ſtayte of grace. Whan aull hys ſade and doone, thou art ſempylly they mooſt attractyffe Whoman in euere waye that I hauef met in my inter lyfe, and in that ſwett moment whythe thee, lokynge at thee from that ſmall diſtaunce, ytt woold hauef bine ſo eyſie for mea to hauef goone and iuſt qwiettly kneelt befoor thee, takyn thyne hande ſoftlie into myn owyn, lokyd into thyne yees and towlde thee hauw ſo vary meſs I coold, bwt that I ſchwld nowth, whe ſchwld nowth, ytt hys iuſt too ſoone for ws in thes plaſſe and tyme... and ſo I ſhant. Ytt hys they Buity weche I hauef inconteryd whythinne thee weche my adooracion yarns to by whythe throghowght euere owre of my exiſtaunce, for ſwche whas ſempylly they oonlie aſpeck of thyſelfe weche whas reallie hewyr preſſentyd to mea at forſt. I woold by longynge for thee regartleſs of whot I migth hauef fownde to hauef bine they howghter manyfeſtacion of thy byin, iuen hefe I hayd cwm to reallyſs that thy diuoynitie hayd bine encaſte whythinne they ſhelle of a beſte, too horryd for non bwt lepours or Syns to ſett yees vpponne.

❧ Yth, I hauef diſcouert inſted, ſo long aftur they confirmacion of they deppiſt of my affeccions for thes wondrfoll Spirite weche reſydes whythinne thee, that thou hauef bine trewely biſtowyd they Loffelyneſs of a Gooddys of Heuyn, nowtyngg leſſe then they magniffiſſent, gracefoll preſaunce ſo deſarueynge to oan who haſt helt ſo meſs intangibell powr ower mea, tranſfourmynge my euere eroor and delouſſhoun in thes lyfe into nowtyngg bwt a caulm, auſpitious motiuatynge influaunce, whythe they foortitewd to aulter they vyleſt of aull my fourmer inclynacions throgh iuen they fentiſt ſownd of thy qwiett, geantle voyce ſpakeynge a fewe ſempyll wordes to mea.

❧ Whilſt I long to ſpeand euere chereſſhyd moment whythe thyne iner byin, nowth mirely to ſpake of bwt to entre into praktice they higthiſt idiles of whot ytt woold appere whe hauef boyth bine in ſarch of for ſo long whythe ane hoder, I do ſo fynde thy cwmlineſs to by ſwche ane amolet for mea, caſtynge ytts ſpeel ower my Sawle and ſentynge mea in my rewerie throgh they portalls of a ſtayte vyrtuallie indiſtynguiſſhybell to a Blyſs deſcroybt in eny poeme or Sootra oan migth chooſe.

❧ I can nowth concile myſelfe to thee, My Frende, thes hys aull becoming too meſs: I mwſte oppen they gaytes to thes Muſe and alow thee to beare witneſſe to they ſplayndoor and maieſtie of whot I houlde and feel whythinne my hart, whythinne thes poeſie of my imagenacion...

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Parte Two

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	Pſymon ☙ Love ❧ Epiſtyll to ane Imagenarie Frende Parte Two Mij memoory chale newyr fayle mea whennewyr I migth chooſe to recawl that daye: I remembre that I hayd bine lokynge don in they deppyts of my thouwt in that moment, thynkeynge abowtt thoſe laſt eyres and aull that thou and I hayd begoun to ſpake of ſo reſſently, and ſempylly gayſſynge abowtt they ſinery of they roome as whe maid howr ſempyll ſmaull tallk. I ſat thar wondrynge as whe ſpooke hauw ytt whas that I hayd newyr reallie notiſſyd thee befoor, that ytt whas aullmooſt melaynchoulie, in a waye, that I hayd newyr hayd they opoortunitie to gyte to kno thee yerlyr in my lyfe; bwt natheles I whas ſtyll ſo vary glayd for ws to hauef ſharyd at lyſte they fewe moments that whe hayd. ❧ And thenne I glauncyd vpp at thee whilſt thou weare iuſt ſettynge thar, and ytt ſodenlie ſtrock mea hauw ſo vary prity thou art, that thou reallie art ſo meſs moare then iuſt ſempylly ſwche a vary buityfoll mynd. Aull of a ſoden I felt mine yees hayd bine oppenyd to whot I hayd bine too diſtractyd in my lyfe to ſey befoor, and I coold eyſily ſaye that in that qwiett moment thou becamſt iuſt ſo vary, ſo vary abſolewtlie, inchauntynge. In thy Buity and in thy Thouwt, in thyne Hart and in thy Sawle, eueretyngg abowtt thee puet mea into ſwche a peſſefoll tranqwillitie, aullmooſt ane euphorick and myſtiryous kynde of Bramminick ſtayte of grace. Whan aull hys ſade and doone, thou art ſempylly they mooſt attractyffe Whoman in euere waye that I hauef met in my inter lyfe, and in that ſwett moment whythe thee, lokynge at thee from that ſmall diſtaunce, ytt woold hauef bine ſo eyſie for mea to hauef goone and iuſt qwiettly kneelt befoor thee, takyn thyne hande ſoftlie into myn owyn, lokyd into thyne yees and towlde thee hauw ſo vary meſs I coold, bwt that I ſchwld nowth, whe ſchwld nowth, ytt hys iuſt too ſoone for ws in thes plaſſe and tyme... and ſo I ſhant. Ytt hys they Buity weche I hauef inconteryd whythinne thee weche my adooracion yarns to by whythe throghowght euere owre of my exiſtaunce, for ſwche whas ſempylly they oonlie aſpeck of thyſelfe weche whas reallie hewyr preſſentyd to mea at forſt. I woold by longynge for thee regartleſs of whot I migth hauef fownde to hauef bine they howghter manyfeſtacion of thy byin, iuen hefe I hayd cwm to reallyſs that thy diuoynitie hayd bine encaſte whythinne they ſhelle of a beſte, too horryd for non bwt lepours or Syns to ſett yees vpponne. ❧ Yth, I hauef diſcouert inſted, ſo long aftur they confirmacion of they deppiſt of my affeccions for thes wondrfoll Spirite weche reſydes whythinne thee, that thou hauef bine trewely biſtowyd they Loffelyneſs of a Gooddys of Heuyn, nowtyngg leſſe then they magniffiſſent, gracefoll preſaunce ſo deſarueynge to oan who haſt helt ſo meſs intangibell powr ower mea, tranſfourmynge my euere eroor and delouſſhoun in thes lyfe into nowtyngg bwt a caulm, auſpitious motiuatynge influaunce, whythe they foortitewd to aulter they vyleſt of aull my fourmer inclynacions throgh iuen they fentiſt ſownd of thy qwiett, geantle voyce ſpakeynge a fewe ſempyll wordes to mea. ❧ Whilſt I long to ſpeand euere chereſſhyd moment whythe thyne iner byin, nowth mirely to ſpake of bwt to entre into praktice they higthiſt idiles of whot ytt woold appere whe hauef boyth bine in ſarch of for ſo long whythe ane hoder, I do ſo fynde thy cwmlineſs to by ſwche ane amolet for mea, caſtynge ytts ſpeel ower my Sawle and ſentynge mea in my rewerie throgh they portalls of a ſtayte vyrtuallie indiſtynguiſſhybell to a Blyſs deſcroybt in eny poeme or Sootra oan migth chooſe. ❧ I can nowth concile myſelfe to thee, My Frende, thes hys aull becoming too meſs: I mwſte oppen they gaytes to thes Muſe and alow thee to beare witneſſe to they ſplayndoor and maieſtie of whot I houlde and feel whythinne my hart, whythinne thes poeſie of my imagenacion... ✾ ☜ ☝ ☞ Prologus Parte Oan Parte Two Parte Thry Parte Fower Epilogus ✾
	Questions? Comments? Bug report? ☞ Contact Psymon ☜ All text, graphics and web design of this entire site are copyright © Ron Koster / Psymon and may not be reproduced or distributed in any manner without explicit permission of Ron Koster / Psymon. All Rights Reserved.