Degrade and creaturize that mundane soul.

It's only a matter of time before some highfalutin developer builds a huge hotel and ruins the scenery.

Jesus stode before the debite, and the debite axed him, saynge: Arte thou the kynge of the iwes?

At his gladſome approach, adown the vaſt ethereal expanſe, opaque, night's roriferous ſhadows glide;