How dearly prized the pains I feel!
Pangs, that to rend my soul combine,
With avarice I conceal:
For did the world the tale divine,
My lot would then be deeper woe—
And mine is grief that none must know.
To mortal ears I may not dare
Unfold the cause, the pain I prove;
’Twould plunge in ruin and despair
Or me, or her I love.