- cifra
We pose and charge upon
The reigning queen
Who looks like a ghost
Upon the mony most people would agree
Oh, the soul is dance upon the english jew
Cross the green fields up possesion grows
We are the out of time
People of the rose
The nighty girl rejoices but the hour disapproves
The mornings are requited
The moon in my heart
Did you?
Now the dancing king is the sun
