I think you live beneath a roof that is upheld by me. I think you seldom walk abroad, but my fair form you see. I close you in on every side, you very dwelling pave, and probably I'll go with you at last into the grave. What am I?
My first is in wield, sever bones and marrow. My second is in blade, forged in cold steel. My third is an arbalest, and also in arrows. My fourth is in power, plunged through a shield. My fifth is in honor, and also in vows. My last will put an end to it all. What am I?