Love is not love that wounded bleeds And bleeding sullies slow. Come death within my hands and I Unto my love will go.

Unpopular, lonely and loving, Elinor need not trouble, For if she were not so loving, She would not be so miserable.

I'll have your heart, if not by gift my knife Shall carve it out. I'll have your heart, your life.

Love me, Love me, I cried to the rocks and the trees, And Love me, they cried again, but it was only to tease. Once I cried Love me to the people, but they fled like a dream, And when I cried Love to my friend, she began to scream. Oh why do they leave me, the beautiful people, and only the rocks remain, To cry Love me, as I cry Love me, and Love me again.