At the foot of the Cross on Calvary Three soldiers sat and diced, And one of them was the Devil And he won the Robe of Christ.

The title of poet's a noble thing, worth living and dying for, Though all the devils on earth and in Hell spit at me their disdain. It is stern work, it is per…

Oh, he can be the forest, And he can be the sun, Or a buttercup, or an hour of rest When the weary day is done. I saw him through a thousand veils, And has not…

When you say of the making of ballads and songs that it is woman's work You forget all the fighting poets that have been in every land.

Edwardus, duodecimo anno regni sui, cum pranderet apud Windlesore, ubi plurimum manere solebat, Godwinus gener suus et proditor, recumbens iuxta eum, dixit: 'S…

Hold the crucifix up before my eyes so I may see it until I die.

Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding sheet of Edward's race. Give ample room and verge enough, The Characters of hell to trace.