Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/117

Rh 3.

A glance from thy soul-searching eye

Can raise with hope, depress with fear;

Yet, I conceal my love,—and why?

I would not force a painful tear.

4.

I ne'er have told my love, yet thou

Hast seen my ardent flame too well;

And shall I plead my passion now,

To make thy bosom's heaven a hell?

5.

No! for thou never canst be mine,

United by the priest's decree:

By any ties but those divine,

Mine, my belov'd, thou ne'er shalt be.

6.

Then let the secret fire consume,

Let it consume, thou shalt not know:

With joy I court a certain doom,

Rather than spread its guilty glow.

7.

I will not ease my tortur'd heart,

By driving dove-ey'd peace from thine;

Rather than such a sting impart,

Each thought presumptuous I resign.