Finnegans Wake: Page 407

Part:3 Episode:12 Page:407

while the whistling prairial roysters play, between gormandising
and gourmeteering, he grubbed his tuck all right, deah smorregos,
every time he was for doing dirt to a meal or felt like a bottle of
ardilaun arongwith a smag of a lecker biss of a welldressed taart
or. Though his net intrants wight weighed nought but a flyblow
to his gross and ganz afterduepoise. And he was so jarvey jaunty
with a romp of a schoolgirl's completion sitting pretty over his
Oyster Monday print face and he was plainly out on the ramp and
mash, as you might say, for he sproke.
Overture and beginners!
When lo (whish, O whish!) mesaw mestreamed, as the green
to the gred was flew, was flown, through deafths of durkness
greengrown deeper I heard a voice, the voce of Shaun, vote of
the Irish, voise from afar (and cert no purer puer palestrine e'er
chanted panangelical mid the clouds of Tu es Petrus, not
Michaeleen Kelly, not Mara O'Mario, and sure, what more
numerose Italicuss ever rawsucked frish uov in urinal?), a brieze
to Yverzone o'er the brozaozaozing sea, from Inchigeela call
the way how it suspired (morepork! morepork!) to scented
nightlife as softly as the loftly marconimasts from Clifden sough
open tireless secrets (mauveport! mauveport!) to Nova Scotia's
listing sisterwands. Tubetube!
His handpalm lifted,his handshell cupped,his handsign pointed,
his handheart mated, his handaxe risen, his handleaf fallen.
Helpsome hand that holemost heals! What is het holy! It gested.
And it said:
-- Alo, alass, aladdin, amobus! Does she lag soft fall means
rest down? Shaun yawned, as his general address rehearsal,
(that was antepropreviousday's pigeons-in-a-pie with rough
dough for the carrier and the hash-say-ugh of overgestern pluzz
the 'stuesday's shampain in his head, with the memories of the
past and the hicnuncs of the present embelliching the musics of
the futures from Miccheruni's band) addressing himself ex alto
and complaining with vocal discontent it was so close as of
the fact the rag was up and of the briefs and billpasses, a houseful
of deadheads, of him to dye his paddycoats to morn his

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