PoPRoX
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Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 1
Now after all that farfatch'd and peragrine or dingnant or clere lift we our ears, eyes of the darkness, from the tome of Liber Li- vidus and, (toh!), how paisibly eirenical, all dimmering dunes and gloamering glades, selfstretches afore us our fredeland's plain! Lean neath stone pine the pastor lies with his crook; young pric- ket by pricket's sister nibbleth on returned viridities; amaid her rocking grasses the herb trinity shams lowliness; skyup is of ever- grey. Thus, too, for donkey's years. Since the bouts of Hebear and Hairyman the cornflowers have been staying at Ballymun, the duskrose has choosed out Goatstown's hedges, twolips have pressed togatherthem by sweet Rush, townland of twinedlights, the whitethorn and the redthorn have fairygeyed the mayvalleys of Knockmaroon, and, though for rings round them, during a chiliad of perihelygangs, the Formoreans have brittled the too- ath of the Danes and the Oxman has been pestered by the Fire- bugs and the Joynts have thrown up jerrybuilding to the Kevan- ses and Little on the Green is childsfather to the City (Year! Year! And laughtears!), these paxsealing buttonholes have quad- rilled across the centuries and whiff now whafft to us, fresh and made-of-all-smiles as, on the eve of Killallwho.