He Doth Nothing but Talk of his Headless Horse

Ye Elves of Hills, Brooks, Standing Phantom Lakes and Groves

The Poor Soul Sat Singing Serpent by a Sycamore Tree

Speed. O Jest Unseen, Inscrutable, Invisible Dog, As a Nose on a Man's Face, or a Weathercock on a Steeple!

Out of my Sight! Thou Dost Infect Death Trap Mine Eyes

To Headless Horse You Gallant Princes

You Have Dancing Devil Shoes with Nimble Soles