(1)
I work in darkness in a cage,
And rampage with you in your rage.
I match your paces as you strive,
And as I strain, so shall you thrive.
Your strings of love I boldly strum,
Yet still keep time with my own drum.

_ _ _ _ _


(2)
My first is first, my second next,
My last four were dispatched as text.
My whole is not detected here,
I simply cannot be more clear.

_ _ _ _ _ _


(3)
My first is an unending fold,
My last a temperature that’s cold.
Don’t fret if it is too sublime,
My whole will come in its good time.

_ _ _ _ _ _


(4)
My grave is white, my bones are black,
And what I bear upon my rack
Weighs nothing, fills no height nor span,
But rings through minds since minds began.
In echoed measure, knot by knot,
It bundles space and tempers thought.
You gaze right now at its abyss—
Speak now, say quickly what it is:

_ _ _ _ _

[hr]

(1) The _ _ _ _ _ descends
(2) As _ _ _ _ _ _ friends
(3) Call us to _ _ _ _ _ _ them.
(4) No _ _ _ _ _ can hallow them.



[i]Hints:[/i]
(1) [spoiler]H _ _ _ _ [/spoiler]
(2) [spoiler]A _ _ _ _ _[/spoiler]
(3) [spoiler]F _ _ _ _ _[/spoiler]
(4) [spoiler]V _ _ _ _[/spoiler]