“Come home to roost,” said I.
“What is it that has no turning?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“A long lane,” said I.
“What does an ill wind blow?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“Nobody good,” said I.
“What’s a merciful man merciful to?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“His beast,” said I.
“What’s better to do than to break?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“Bend,” said I.