I think so hard, I sit and weep, yet when you speak, I laugh and leap. All things have come to final sleep; I found my gold where silver runs deep.
Though pain has price, still we bargain; you'll listen—as if purse strings harden! From street to street, poison's garden, till round my neck the noose must tighten!
When tears give way to laughter's call, each teardrop spreads its wings to fall. Have you now left behind it all? Where did you find such courage tall?