we are obliged to answer a trolltold how winter did not proveso bad as reportedor that he had no opportunityof speaking his mindtill 12 o’clock at nightmaking an end of right and wrongout of love for the gallows
all morning in my mind with no compassI turn towards the worldgoing on a delicate stone horseto see the stone faces of the crowdI hear lies enoughto make any man sickthe oddest presentwould be a pound of candles for God