I Gave Him My Heart, And He

How Cruel, Your Veins Are Full Of Ice-water And Mine Are Boiling

You Have Left Me So Long To Struggle Against Death, Alone, That I Feel And See Only Death! I Feel Like Death!

But There's This One Difference: One Is Gold Put To The Use Of Paving-stones, And The Other Is Tin Polished To Ape A Service Of Silver. Mine Has Nothing Valuable About It; Yet I Shall Have The Merit Of Making It Go As Far As Such Poor Stuff Can Go. His Had First-rate Qualities, And They Are Lost, Rendered Worst Than Unavailing.

Worthless As Wither'd Weeds.

A Good Heart Will Help You To A Bonny Face, My Lad And A Bad One Will Turn The Bonniest Into Something Worse Than Ugly.