Download PDF World Wrestling Quiz Book - Volume 3 (WWE SERIES)

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All you have to do is follow the rules in order to be eligible for the prize! Note: This contest is being ran by awesomephinatic. He will be responsible for working with the winner of the contest and shipping of the prize package. My favourite wrestling memory! Attending my first indy show a few years ago, and finally, seeing Goldberg, one of my childhood heroes, beat Brock Lesnar at Survivor Series in Toronto live. I was like a little kid again for those few minutes, just cheering my hero on.


It was so awesome. The last one is probably my favourite. Others include cheering Bret Hart on as he is my favourite wrestler of all time , and seeing Shawn Michaels, Owen, and Bret all live in My favorite pro wrestling memory would definitely be Steve Austin beating the piss outta Vince McMahon in a steel cage at a St. Bloodshed match by all means. My favorite wrestling memory has to be one from when I was really little.

My favorite memory is when kane returned in to beat unamericans and do the kanearooney with booker t and goldust and when it my path is chosen. Daniel Bryan andKane going to anger management classes! It was a hilarious but great storyline!

Mock not the flood of stars, the thing's to be. O Love, come now, this land turns evil slowly. The waves bore in, soon will they bear away. Move we and take the tide, with its next favour, Abide Under some neutral force Until this course turneth aside. And one gropes in these things as delicate Algae reach up and out beneath Pale slow green surgings of the under- wave, 'Mid these things older than the names they have, These things that are familiars of the god. I burn, I scald so for the new, New friends, new faces, Places! Oh to be out of this, This that is all I wanted save the new.

And you, Love, you the much, the more de- sired! Do I not loathe all walls, streets, stones, All mire, mist, all fog, All ways of traffic? You, I would have flow over me like water, Oh, but far out of this! Grass, and low fields, and hills, And sun, Oh, sun enough! Out and alone, among some Alien people! Go from me. I have left her lately.

I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness, For my surrounding atir has a new light- ness ; Slight are her arms, yet they have bound me straitly And left me cloaked as with a gauze of aether ; As with sweet leaves ; as with a subtle clearness. Oh, I have picked up magic in her near- ness To sheathe me half in half the things that sheathe her. No, no! I have still the flavour, Soft as spring wind that's come from birchen bowers.

Green come the shoots, aye April in the branches, As winter's wound with her sleight hand she staunches, Hath of the tress a likeness of the savour : As white their bark, so white this lady's hours. Great Pan is dead. There is no summer in the leaves, And withered are the sedges ; How shall we weave a coronal, Or gather floral pledges?


That I may not say, Ladies. Death was ever a churl. How should he show a reason, That he has taken our Lord away Upon such hollow season? The eyes of this dead lady speak to me. And now she's gone, who was his Cyprian, And you are here, who are " The Isles " to me.

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And here's the thing that lasts the whole thing out : The eyes of this dead lady speak to me. See, they return, one, and by one, With fear, as half-awakened ; As if the snow should hesitate And murmur in the wind, and half turn back ; These were the " Wing'd-with-Awe," Inviolable. Gods of the winged shoe! With them the silver hounds, sniffing the trace of air!

These were the swift to harry ; 53 These the keen-scented ; These were the souls of blood. Slow on the leash, pallid the leash-men! Temple qui fut. Poissons d'or. A SOUL curls back, Their souls like petals, Thin, long, spiral, Like those of a chrysanthemum curl Smoke-like up and back from the Vavicel, the calyx, Pale green, pale gold, transparent, Green of plasma, rose-white, Spirate like smoke, Curled, Vibrating, Slowly, waving slowly. O calyx! O crowd of foolish people!

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On the tip of each the figure Delicate. See, they dance, step to step. Flora to festival, Twine, bend, bow, Frolic involve ye. Woven the step, Woven the tread, the moving. Ribands they move, Wave, bow to the centre. Pause, rise, deepen in colour, And fold in drowsily. The notes beat upon this, Beat and indented it ; Rain dropped and came and fell upon this, Hail and snow, My sight gone in the flurry!

And then across the white silken, Bellied up, as a sail bellies to the wind, Over the fluid tenuous, diaphanous, Over this curled a wave, greenish, Mounted and overwhelmed it. This membrane floating above, And bellied out by the up-pressing soul.

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Then came a mer-host, And after them legion of Romans, The usual, dull, theatrical! They are reprinted here for good fellowship ; for good custom, a custom out of Tuscany and of Provence ; and thirdly, for convenience, seeing their small- ness of bulk ; and for good memory, seeing that they recall certain evenings and meetings of two years gone, dull enough at the time, but rather pleasant to look back upon.

Ardoise rimed richly ah, richly and rarely rimed! As for the future, Les Imagistes, the descendants of the forgotten school of , have that in their keeping. I refrain from publishing my proposed Historical Memoir of their forerunners, because Mr Hulme has threatened to print the original propaganda.

I did not stop to speak, but nodded, And round about were the wistful stars With white faces like town children. Yet on a day I heard her cry : " 1 weary of the roses and the singing poets Josephs all, not tall enough to try. The Poems of Sappho. Sappho: One Hundred Lyrics. Sir Gilbert Parker - 1st Baronet. Odes and Sonnets. Clark Ashton Smith. Words of Wisdom: William Shakespeare. Students' Academy. Sonnets And Other Verses. George Santayana. Seven Against Thebes by Aeschylus. George Wither. Essays And Poems.

Jones Very. The Suppliants. A Notebook on William Shakespeare. Edith Sitwell. The Deluge and Other Poems. John Presland. The Court of the Profane. Aleister Crowley.

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