Yon black clouds are the fume / Of that great crucible, in which, with torturing fire, / The Mulciberian artist, practice-taught, / Transmutes, with skill ne'er known to th' alchemist, / Each sordid metal into price of gold.

The fullmoon is shown at the centre of the people of the royal family of king of Lagash, Ur Nina.

But signalman Bridges was never to answer driver Gimbert's desperate question. A deafening, massive blast blew the wagon to shreds, the 44 high-explosive bombs exploding like simultaneous hits from the aircraft they should have been dropped from. The station was instantly reduced to bits of debris, and the line to a huge crater.

The share of preferences going from the Progress Party to the Democrats was swollen, if not almost wholly accounted for, by donkey votes.