With ſolemn adoration down they [the angels] caſt Thir Crowns inwove with Amarant and Gold; Immortal Amarant, a Flour which once In Paradiſe, faſt by the Tree of Life Began to bloom, but ſoon for mans offence To Heav'n remov'd where firſt it grew, there grows, And flours aloft ſhading the Fount of Life, […]

At one time the rage for combining, inclaving, and contracting was so great that a whole line of Virgil was tortured into a monogram, and it was the common practice in Carolingian and early Imperial diplomas to monogrammatize the royal signature.

I am feeling a little Aesopish today and hence this story.

[…] their visit seemed fresh, unstarchy, even informal, a visit that everyone could enjoy.