“Upon thousands of miles… I confide them entirely to you. And
Read them,” he said, “I am afraid you miss them cruelly, but…
Nevermind,” said Stephen, “I shall bring you some.”
“Great things, much too big, like raspberry tarts,” she said,
Little smile and tears brimming in her eyes. “It is the Lyons
Lantern, and of course this apparently meaningless laceration
That lends corruption lighter wings to fly,
Snort – to stare wildly – and to run faster and faster across.”

Information conveyed to Paris in all good faith by
The Blackwater and Jack (whose affairs were in a state of horrible
Premature retirement, and of the even more subtle, far more
Shocking reputation where pay and pensions are concerned)
And you know he was dismissed from the service?
Has cried quits after St. Vincent. We should have had no
Distrust and delay.

Now with the main body of the fleet, blockading Toulon,
His disappointment had grown less nice about his linen.
And by the time each reported his division present...
Leaping up, It is half three – I am late.

08/01/2006

Author's Note: This is the result of a little experiment I thought up. I've taken the 12th line from the 21st page of all 22 novels in the Aubrey/Maturin series by Patrick O'Brian and tried to arrange them into some kind of sensible order. For some reason I didn't have a representative line from the first novel, but I shall get it and fit it in at my earliest convenience. As it is, the last line in the poem also happens to be the representative line from the last, unfinished novel. I have taken certain, minimal liberties with the punctuation and tense. The title is the representative line from Blue at the Mizzen.

Posted on 08/01/2006
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