Your talk of sniffling riders with invisible noses has unsettled me.

But do not despise the lore that has come down from distant years; for oft it may chance that old wives keep in memory word of things that once were needful for the wise to know.

The dragon is withered, His bones are now crumbled; His armour is shivered, His splendour is humbled! Though sword shall be rusted, And throne and crown perish With strength that men trusted And wealth that they cherish, Here grass is still growing, And leaves are yet swinging, The white water flowing, And elves are yet singing Come! Tra-la-la-lally! Come back to the valley!

Very potent influence on myself has been Finnish.

And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her.

No onslaught more fierce was ever seen in the savage world of beasts, where some desperate small creature armed with little teeth, alone, will spring upon a tower of horn and hide that stands above its fallen mate.

This is the ending. Now not day only shall be beloved, but night too shall be beautiful and blessed and all its fear pass away.