I will

challenge the day as it comes as it rolls as it strolls as it hums down the street very sweet very neatly complete. I will hope that the day knows its end as it breathes out the breeze of the leaves that the seas recommend. Then the rope in the scope driven wilder and milder sink higher and pliers drink tears by the criers. I will burn down the stern town with firm grounds to know now the go how of gold crowns passed up down the slow rounds. And when all the stupid is over the rover finds Dover to get what she owed her and showed her the neat little package in silver, it killed her and nothing was quicker and thicker than blood on old wicker.