I feed a flame within which so torments me 
That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me: 
'Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it, 
That I had rather die than once remove it. 

Yet he for whom I grieve shall never know it 
My heart does not betray nor my eyes show it 
Not a sigh, nor a tear my pain discloses 
But they fall silently like dew on roses 

Thus, to prevent my love from being cruel 
My heart's the sacrifice as it's the fuel. 
And while I suffer thus to give him quiet 
My faith rewards my love though he deny it 

On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me 
While I conceal my love no frown can fright me. 
To be more happy I dare not aspire 
Nor can I fall more low mounting no higher.