| Song | Lorelei |
| Artist | Alison Brown |
| Album | Best Of The Vanguard Years |
| Lorelei - Theatre of Tragedy | |
| Ferie dearest, was it loe soothfast or a façade; | |
| A serenade siren'd to lure - Zounds! not to court me? | |
| A menad, yet the sweetest colleen - | |
| Certes didst thou me unveil meekly life pristine. | |
| Lorelei, | |
| A poet of tragedies, scribe I lauds to Death, | |
| Yet who the hell was I to dare? | |
| Lorelei, | |
| Canst thou not see thou to me needful art? | |
| Canst thou not see the loss of loe painful is? | |
| Dedally didst thou perform the tragic pasquinade, | |
| For all years a damndest and driegh'd accolade - | |
| Caus'd for all eyes mazed to behold a mêlee; | |
| In the midst did I swainly cast thee my bouquet: | |
| The one and sole faggot that feedeth the fire, | |
| Bellow'd bidingly by my heart's quailing quire. | |
| Lorelei, | |
| A poet of tragedies, scribe I lauds to Death, | |
| Yet who the hell was I to dare? | |
| Lorelei, | |
| Canst thou not see thou to me needful art? | |
| Canst thou not see the loss of loe painful is? | |
| Perchance author I thee this ikon'd apologue for aught, | |
| Doth the wecht burthen thee?, then bethink thine afterthought: | |
| 'Tween Aether and 'Nether art thou the peerless phoenix - | |
| Prithee, darlingmost! - court me rather than the peevish prolix. |
| Lorelei Theatre of Tragedy | |
| Ferie dearest, was it loe soothfast or a fa ade | |
| A serenade siren' d to lure Zounds! not to court me? | |
| A menad, yet the sweetest colleen | |
| Certes didst thou me unveil meekly life pristine. | |
| Lorelei, | |
| A poet of tragedies, scribe I lauds to Death, | |
| Yet who the hell was I to dare? | |
| Lorelei, | |
| Canst thou not see thou to me needful art? | |
| Canst thou not see the loss of loe painful is? | |
| Dedally didst thou perform the tragic pasquinade, | |
| For all years a damndest and driegh' d accolade | |
| Caus' d for all eyes mazed to behold a m lee | |
| In the midst did I swainly cast thee my bouquet: | |
| The one and sole faggot that feedeth the fire, | |
| Bellow' d bidingly by my heart' s quailing quire. | |
| Lorelei, | |
| A poet of tragedies, scribe I lauds to Death, | |
| Yet who the hell was I to dare? | |
| Lorelei, | |
| Canst thou not see thou to me needful art? | |
| Canst thou not see the loss of loe painful is? | |
| Perchance author I thee this ikon' d apologue for aught, | |
| Doth the wecht burthen thee?, then bethink thine afterthought: | |
| ' Tween Aether and ' Nether art thou the peerless phoenix | |
| Prithee, darlingmost! court me rather than the peevish prolix. |