I Am Wrapped In Dismal Thinking.

Words Are Easy, Like The Wind; Faithful Friends Are Hard To Find.

Is Twenty Hundred Kisses Such A Trouble?

They That Touch Pitch Will Be Defiled.

On Rumor's Tongue Continual Slanders Ride.

You Draw Me, You Hard-hearted Adamant; But Yet You Draw Not Iron, For My Heart Is True As Steel: Leave You Your Power To Draw, And I Shall Have No Power To Follow You.