My Dying Bride

In Your Dark Pavilion

You Are Not The One Who Loves Me

Of Lilies Bent With Tears

The Distance, Busy With Shadows

Of Sorry Eyes In March

Vanité Triomphante

That Dress And Summer Skin

And Then You Go

A Hand Of Awful Rewards

The Music Of Flesh

Seven Times She Wept

The Burning Coast Of Regnum Italicum

She Heard My Body Dying

And All Their Joy Was Drowned