Page:Adelaide.pdf/98

95

TO

Oh! say not, that I love not nature's face, And that I cannot know her beauty's power! Pleasure is unto me a lonely thing: Deep sorrow, or rapt joy, I cannot feel, But in still solitude: I may not brook Another's eye should mark my secret thoughts. Since the first hour that tears or smiles were mine, I never sought communion in my grief, And none could share my silent happiness. If thou would'st know how I do love to gaze