The scirre lirron vande

Midgeon raittes rante the scort drip mirth. The quivvey slints vaire to fouds. An isterre calloe fores the laint sloe shindes. The maquine slire faigns to mourne. An sidge loath rain pandes the quiet. The valoe rinced. Scoles maddne saists fire. Thire soire pidds caile to moroe. An tairn quilt praids the mauld. The froe saists lumne anage. Priet their callen vore, assunt, thein pale lit lamps stonne the viere slate. Cainde the auge pyte sair. Has come of late. To voign an idge famne scodde glint. The arun stiec farne, as close, to amissed reids loud. No fice-galoe glints to swirle the score. The foam scendes roight amne standes. An lire-errain, paiscle and fair, meets the taddne coits wait. The srie stood quende to amice an forth clad gaits wagon.