* * *

I loved you, and that love to die refusing,
May still — who knows! Be smoldering in my breast.
Pray, be not pained — believe me, of my choosing
I’d never have you troubled nor yet distressed.

I loved you mutely, hopelessly and truly,
With shy yet fervent, tenderness aglow;
Mine was a jealous passion and unruly...
May Heaven grant another loves you so!