The Mortal Sickness Of A

All Knots That Lovers Tie Are Tied To Sever. Here Shall Your Sweetheart Lie, Untrue For Ever.

But If You Ever Come To A Road Where Danger; Or Guilt Or Anguish Or Shame's To Share. Be Good To The Lad Who Loves You True, And The Soul That Was Born To Die For You; And Whistle And I'll Be There.

But Men At Whiles Are Sober And Think By Fits And Starts. And If They Think, They Fasten Their Hands Upon Their Hearts

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

The Fairies Break Their Dances And Leave The Printed Lawn.