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Yet he whom I adore,
 Shall never know it;
My tongue shall nere betray,
 Nor my eyes shew it:
Not a sigh, nor a teare,
 My paine discloses,
But they fall silently,
 Like dew on roses.

Thus to prevent my love
 From being cruell,
My harts the sacrifice,
 As tis the fuell:
And whilst I suffer this,
 To give him quiett,
My faith rewards my love,
 Though he deny it.

On his eyes will I gaze,
 And there delight me;
While I conceale my love,
 Noe frown can fright me;