  O foolish heart, to flutter so With hope and fear; O treacherous blush, to come and go When he is near; Why do ye to the world reveal The passion I would fain conceal? O ears, that love to hear him speak; O downcast eyes, Whose lashes droop upon each cheek, Nor dare to rise; Do ye not know she sees and hears Fond looks and words that cost me tears? Be brave, mine heart, if he despise, Give scorn for scorn; Be deaf, mine ears, be blind, mine eyes,— Yet soul, why mourn? Though she may claim him for her own, My love, my love is mine alone. |
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