Text FW 628

sad and weary I go back to you, my cold father, my cold mad1
father, my cold mad feary father, till the near sight of the mere2
size of him, the moyles and moyles of it, moananoaning, makes me3
seasilt saltsick and I rush, my only, into your arms. I see them4
rising! Save me from those therrble prongs! Two more. Onetwo5
moremens more. So. Avelaval. My leaves have drifted from me.6
All. But one clings still. I'll bear it on me. To remind me of. Lff!7
So soft this morning, ours. Yes. Carry me along, taddy, like you8
done through the toy fair! If I seen him bearing down on me now9
under whitespread wings like he'd come from Arkangels, I sink10
I'd die down over his feet, humbly dumbly, only to washup. Yes,11
tid. There's where. First. We pass through grass behush the bush12
to. Whish! A gull. Gulls. Far calls. Coming, far! End here. Us13
then. Finn, again! Take. Bussoftlhee, mememormee! Till thous-14
endsthee. Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone a last a loved a15
long the16

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