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Ask me not, love, what may be in my heart When, gazing on thee, sudden teardrops start; When only joy should come where'er thou art.

The human heart is compassed with fears; And joy is tremulous, for it enspheres An earth-born star, which melts away in tears.

I am too happy for a careless mirth— Hence anxious thoughts, and sorrowful, have birth; Who looks from heaven, is half returned to earth.

How powerless is my fond anxiety! I feel I could lay down my life for thee, Yet feel how vain such sacrifice might be.

Hence do I tremble in my happiness; Hurried and dim the unknown hours press: I question of a past I dare not guess.

was right in supposing that the illness of his daughter arose from the