158 the most of it

The Most of it

ðǩ mǩȚst ǩv Ǻt |

"He thought he kept the universe
alone;
for all the voice in answer he could

hi θǤət (h)i kept ðǩ juənǺvǬəs
ǩlǩȚn |

wake

fǩr Ǥəl ðǩ vǤǺs Ǻn ǡənsǩ hi kǩd weǺk|

was but the mocking echo of his own

wǩz bǩt ðǩ mǢkǺŋ ekǩ(Ț) ǩv Ǻz ǩȚn |

from some tree-hidden cliff across

frǩm sȜm tri: hǺdn klǺf ǩkrǢs ðǩ leǺk |

the lake.

sȜm mǤənǺŋ frǩm ðǩ bǩȚldǩ brǩukn

Some morning from the boulderbroken beach
He would cry out on life, that what it
wants

biətȓ |
hi wȚd kra(Ǻ) ǡȚt Ǣn laǺf | ðǩt wǢt Ǻt
wǢnts |

is not its own love back in copy

Ǻz nǢt Ǻts ǩȚn lȜv bæk Ǻn kǢpi spiətȓ |

speech,

bǩt kǡȚntǩ lȜv ǩn ǩrǺdȢǩnlʜ rǺspǢns |

but counter-love, original response.

ǩn(d) nȜθǺŋ evǩ keǺm ǩv wǢt (h)i kraǺd

And nothing ever came of what he
cried

Ȝnles Ǻt wǩz ði ǺmbǢdǺmǩnt ðǩt kræȓt

Unless it was the embodiment that

Ǻn ðǩ klǺfs teǺlǩs Ǣn ði Ȝðǩ saǺd |

crashed

ǩn(d) ðen Ǻn ðǩ fǡ: dǺstǩnt wǤətǩ

In the cliff's talus on the other side,

splæȓt |

And then in the far-distant water

bǩt ǡəftǩr ǩ taǺm ǩlǡȚd fǩr Ǻt tǩ swǺm

splashed,

Ǻnsted ǩv pruəvǺŋ hjuəmǩn wen Ǻt

But after a time allowed for it to
swim,

nǺǩd |

Instead of proving human when it

ǩn(d) sȜmwȜn els ǩdǺȓnʜǩl tu Ǻm |

neared

ǩz ǩ DZreǺt bȜk Ǻt pǡ(Ț)ǩf(ǩ)li ǩpǺǩd |

And someone else additional to him,

pȚȓǺŋ ðǩ krȜmplʜd wǤətǩr Ȝp ǩhed |

As a great buck it powerfully

ǩn(d) lændǺd pǤərǺŋ laǺk ǩ wǤətǩfǤəl |

appeared,

ǩn(d) stȜmblʜd θruə ðǩ rǢks wǺð hǤəni

Pushing the crumpled water up
ahead,
And landed pouring like a waterfall,
And stumbled through the rocks with
horny tread,
And forced the underbrush--and
that was all."
— Robert Frost

Compiled Juan Carlos David

tred |
ǩn(d) fǤəst ði Ȝndǩ brȜȓ | ǩn ðæt wǩz
Ǥəl
rǢbǩt frǢst |