O foolish heart, to flutter so
With hope and fear;
O treacherous blush, to come and go
When he is near;
Why do ye to the world reveal
The passion I would fain conceal?
O ears, that love to hear him speak;
O downcast eyes,
Whose lashes droop upon each cheek,
Nor dare to rise;
Do ye not know she sees and hears
Fond looks and words that cost me tears?
Be brave, mine heart, if he despise,
Give scorn for scorn;
Be deaf, mine ears, be blind, mine eyes,—
Yet soul, why mourn?
Though she may claim him for her own,
My love, my love is mine alone.