I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.
A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies.
Trust me not at all, or all in all.
A classic lecture, rich in sentiment, With scraps of thundrous Epic lilted out By violet-hooded Doctors, elegies And quoted odes, and jewels five-words-long, That on the stretched forefinger of all Time Sparkle for ever.
That tower of strength Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew.
Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again