Deep into distant woodlands winds a mazy way, reaching to overlapping spurs of mountains bathed in their hill-side blue.

Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry, Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry.

The débouchés were ordered widened to afford easy egress.

She was surprisingly polyglottal, with native fluency in twelve Asian languages.