human
Who were the stragglers, what war did they wage; Whose savage trample thus could pad the dank Soil to a plash?
gpt
of the cloud that crosses it; Shelley's Moon, in keeping with the ways of his more tender-hefted universe, merely _broke its woof_. So the gentle wife of James Lee sees in a vineyard
human
and
gpt
owe their attraction not only to their intricate angularity but to the violent cleavings and thrustings apart which they result from or produce. And his clefts are as incomplete without some wild bit of fierce or frightened life in their grip as are Shelley's caves without some form of unearthly maidenhood in their embrace.[95] His mountains--so rarely the benign pastoral presences of Wordsworth--are not only craggy and rough, but invisible axes have hewn and mutilated them,--they are fissured and cloven and
human
and
gpt
When they thrust their mighty feet into the plain and