Will You Walk Out Of The Air,

Love Is Merely A Madness.

Sweet Recreation Barred, What Doth Ensue But Moody And Dull Melancholy, Kinsman To Grim And Comfortless Despair.

When You Depart From Me Sorrow Abides And Happiness Takes His Leave.

I 'gin To Be Aweary Of The Sun, And Wish Th' Estate O' Th' World Were Now Undone.

Thou Art The Best O' The Cut-throats