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Club Ruda tarot

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Death On The Balcony - Keep Our Love Alive (Original Mix)

Sir Roger played the harp; I cussed the thing.I crowned him with his harp to bust the thing,And now he plays where harps are just the thing,To keep my love alive,To keep my love alive!

Death On The Balcony - Keep Our Love Alive (Original Mix)


In that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters,Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle,Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded.There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty,And the streets still re-echo the names of the trees of the forest,As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested.There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an exile,Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country.There old Rene Leblanc had died; and when he departed,Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants.Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the city,Something that spake to her heart, and made her no longer a stranger;And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the Quakers,For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country,Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and sisters.So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed endeavor,Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncomplaining,Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her thoughts and her footsteps.As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the morningRoll away, and afar we behold the landscape below us,Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and hamlets,So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the world far below her,Dark no longer, but all illumined with love; and the pathwayWhich she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair in the distance.Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his image,Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him,Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and absence.Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was not.Over him years had no power; he was not changed, but transfigured;He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and not absent;Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others,This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught her.So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices,Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with aroma.Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to followMeekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Saviour.Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy; frequentingLonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the city,Where distress and want concealed themselves from the sunlight,Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected.Night after night, when the world was asleep, as the watchman repeatedLoud, through the gusty streets, that all was well in the city,High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper.Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow through the suburbsPlodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits for the market,Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its watchings.

Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feeling of wonder,Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a shudderRan through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets dropped from her fingers,And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morning.Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible anguish,That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows.On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old man.Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his temples;But, as he lay in the in morning light, his face for a momentSeemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier manhood;So are wont to be changed the faces of those who are dying.Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever,As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had besprinkled its portals,That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over.Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit exhaustedSeemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in the darkness,Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking.Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied reverberations,Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that succeededWhispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint-like,"Gabriel! O my beloved!" and died away into silence.Then he beheld, in a dream, once more the home of his childhood;Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among them,Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walking under their shadow,As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in his vision.Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his eyelids,Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by his bedside.Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents unutteredDied on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue would have spoken.Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling beside him,Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom.Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank into darkness,As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at a casement.

Tella is very impulsive, reckless, and acts before thinking like an Aries. She can come across as selfish and uncaring about the consequences of her actions. When she's set her mind to something there is no changing it. Scarlett often fears Tella has a death wish, while Tella thinks Scarlett worries too much. Raised on her grandmother's stories of magic and Caraval, Tella loves magic and adventure. As she grew older, her dreams of magic only increased and her mind was often lost in thoughts about Caraval and Legend. She is vibrant, headstrong, and loves life. While Tella likes being the center of attention, she doesn't like scrutiny.

Jacks and Tella have a fiery relationship. In the beginning, Tella avoids Jacks and even hates him. Jacks forces Tella to pretend to be his fiancé so that his position as heir to the Meridian Empire can remain secure. As punishment for not bringing him Legend's real name as she promised, he kisses her. Jacks tells her that if she does not keep up the charade of being his fiancé and bring him Legend's true name by the end of Caraval in five days, his kiss will kiss her. When Tella and Jacks get into yet another argument, she hits him in the chest and feels a heartbeat. As only his one true love can cause his heart to begin beating again, Tella realizes this means she is his one true love and that the kiss he gave her will not actually kill her.

Jacks flirts with Tella constantly, and they begin to grow closer when Jacks comforts Tella after watching Gavriel murder her mother and when Legend abandons her. Jacks develops an obsession with Tella because she is his one true love that he has spent so long searching for. He often shows up out of nowhere to aid her. Tella begins to feel attracted to him as well. Jacks offers to take Tella's grief over her mother's death away. Despite being furious at him for threatening to kill her in order to make Legend return his powers to full strength, she agrees. Jacks has Tella recite words in an ancient language, giving him control over her emotions. Eventually Tella discovers that the ancient words she spoke not only gave him control over her emotions, but married them as well. Tella immediately confronts Jacks and severs their bond, essentially divorcing him. Jacks admits to feeling obsessed with her and after the breaking of their bond, Jacks becomes distant and eventually disappears to the North.

Only a few more days and November will be over. It is hard to believe the season of Christmas is only one month from now. As the month of November comes to a close, let us keep the spirit of Thanksgiving alive and do not allow the Christmas rush to snatch it away. Please keep that attitude of thanks and praise for every day of life, for family and friends and all the blessings we receive and enjoy.

This is our new address. Madame Gautier's tenant wanted to keep on her flat in the Rue de Vaugirard, so she has taken this one which is larger and very convenient, as it is close to many of the best studios. I think I shall like it very much. It is not decided yet where I am to study, but there is an Atelier in the house for ladies only, and I think it will be there, so that I shall not have to go out to my lessons. I will write again as soon as we are more settled. We only moved in late this afternoon, so there is a lot to do. I hope you are quite well, and that everything is going on well in the parish. I will certainly send some sketches for the Christmas sale. Madame Gautier does not wish me to go home for Christmas; she thinks it would interrupt my work too much. There is a new girl, a Miss Conway. I like her very much. With love,

Yet Nature did not seem to know of sorrow or death.Birds were singing their love songs from the hedgerows,the fields were clothed in gorgeous robes of wild flowersbeneath which forget-me-nots spread their contrastinghues of blue, while life was busy in bud and starting leafreclothing the blood-stained earth in radiant beauty.

Men and women fainted, and one woman died, unableto endure the strain. The Preacher turned his headaway and looked out of the window. A soft wind wasblowing from the South. On its wings were borne tohis heart the cry of the widow and orphan, the hungryand the dying still being trampled to death by a warmore terrible than the first, because it was waged againstthe unarmed, women and children, the wounded, thestarving and the defenceless! He tried in vain to keepback the tears. Bending low, he put his face in his handsand cried like a child. 041b061a72

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