: Cede the wherefores and do na chide, Maybe I am peenging - ween of joy; Cede the wherefores and do na chide - Thrawn and slab of leer I hold thee,
: "Had I what it taketh, I would do; I sense - I cannot sense, I am - yet! I am not - Once I kiss'd the image Of the Seven Angels of Death..." "Then
: "Meine Augen sind so dunkel, Auch sind die Visionen schwarz, Schwarz wie die Nacht; Der D¤mmerzustand des Menschen - Ist meine Zeit des Daseins." "
A serenade siren'd to lure - Zounds! not to court me? A m¦nad, yet the sweetest colleen - Certes didst thou me unveil meekly life pristine. Lorelei, A poet of tragedies
: Twit me, I am thy tyke; Meekness for thee aught. Yerk me to weal daut', Sweven nor Muse Wad taw me to this ruddy hue - Wark aptly my drear, 'Hesting
: Hist! - The sonorous orchestral ambience and the arabesque-stanc'd ballerina, Her wee feet in an alacritic m¦lstrom-twirl, And the dust-hurl with her
"Meine Augen sind so dunkel, Auch sind die Visionen schwarz, Schwarz wie die Nacht; Der D¤mmerzustand des Menschen - Ist meine Zeit des Daseins." "Ich
"Had I what it taketh, I would do; I sense - I cannot sense, I am - yet! I am not - Once I kiss'd the image Of the Seven Angels of Death..." "Then,
Hist! - The sonorous orchestral ambience and the arabesque-stanc'd ballerina, Her wee feet in an alacritic m¦lstrom-twirl, And the dust-hurl with her
Cede the wherefores and do na chide, Maybe I am peenging - ween of joy; Cede the wherefores and do na chide - Thrawn and slab of leer I hold thee, and
Twit me, I am thy tyke; Meekness for thee aught. Yerk me to weal daut', Sweven nor Muse Wad taw me to this ruddy hue - Wark aptly my drear, 'Hesting
