The Phoenix riddle hath more wit By Us; we two being one, are it.So, to one nuetrul thing both sexes fit,We die and rise the same,and prove Mysterious by this love.
When the Road goes High,Where the mountains lie, Where the trees make shadows,Unlike the sunny meadows, When you see that face,With no disgrace, In the Moon Light,Where the Fire Flies Light, The friendly face, With no disgrace, You could flie to the moon,Like a witch on her broom,On that road
