Pleasures Are Like Poppies Spread:

Humid Seal Of Soft Affections, Tend'rest Pledge Of Future Bliss, Dearest Tie Of Young Connections, Love's First Snow-drop, Virgin Kiss.

O, My Luve Is Like A Red, Red Rose.

But Pleasures Are Like Poppies Spread, You Seize The Flower, It's Bloom Is Shed; Or, Like The Snow-fall In The River, A Moment White, Then Melts Forever.

Farewell, My Friends! Farewell, My Foes! My Peace With These, My Love With Those. The Bursting Tears My Heart Declare; Farewell, The Bonnie Banks Of Ayr.

Suspicion Is A Heavy Armor And With Its Weight It Impedes More Than It Protects.