That she will heal with joy, yet hear with shame.
“Come, let me then—no more a son—reveal
The daring hope, and for her favour kneel;
Let me in ardent speech my meanings dress,
And, while I mourn the fault, my love confess;
And, once confess’d, no more that hope resign, 310
For she or misery henceforth must be mine.
“O! what confusion shall I see advance
On that dear face, responsive to my glance!
Sure she can love!”