Loth was that other, and did faint through feare, To taste th' untryed dint of deadly steele; But yet his Lady did so well him cheare, That hope of new goodhap he gan to feele; 305 So bent his speare, and spurd his horse with yron heele.
The violins get lost with the rest of the music.
Tom Robbins, whose cosmic-absurdist, stoner-philosophical novels have moved undergraduates to scrawl So true!!! in the margins for decades, has again deputized himself to carry the freak flag of irreverence and fleshly indulgence.
Call the huge organism by a fabled name, Briareus, the Hundredhanded, with all his tenacles swimming in his own sea of Music; thus we may mythologize the Orchestra for our fancy.
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