The Fairies Break Their Dances And Leave

Ale, Man, Ale's The Stuff To Drink For Fellows Whom It Hurts To Think.

Stone, Steel, Dominions Pass, Faith Too, No Wonder; So Leave Alone The Grass That I Am Under.

There, Like The Wind Through Woods In Riot, Through Him The Gale Of Life Blew High; The Tree Of Man Was Never Quiet: Then 'twas The Roman, Now 'tis I.

The Mortal Sickness Of A Mind Too Unhappy To Be Kind.

I, A Stranger And Afraid, In A World I Never Made.