I feed a flame within, which so torments me
Both pains my heart, and yet contains me:
'Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it,
That I had rather die than once remove it.
Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it;
My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes show it.
Not a sigh, nor a tear, my pain discloses,
But they fall silently, like dew on roses.
On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me;
Conceal my love no frown can fright me.
I can not fall more low, no higher
To be more happy I dare not aspire.
I feed a flame within, which so torments me
Both pains my heart, and yet contains me:
'Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it,
That I had rather die than once remove it.
Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it;
My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes show it.
Not a sigh, nor a tear, my pain discloses,
But they fall silently, like dew on roses.
On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me;
Conceal my love no frown can fright me.
I can not fall more low, no higher.
To be more happy I dare not aspire.
My heart's the sacrifice, as 'tis the fuel;
My faith rewards my love, from being cruel,
Can I fall more low, can I fall more high.
Mounting no higher.

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS