Oh What Can Ail Thee, Knight-at-arms, Alone

Death Is Life's High Meed.

Many A Time I Have Been Half In Love With Easeful Death.

You Are Always New To Me.

He Who Saddens At Thought Of Idleness Cannot Be Idle, / And He's Awake Who Thinks Himself Asleep.

She Hurried At His Words, Beset With Fears, For There Were Sleeping Dragons All Around.