A love for one who does not know
The thoughts that in my bosom glow.
Oh! cease my heart, thy throbbing hide,
Another soon will be his bride;
And hope’s last faint, but cheering ray,
Will then for ever pass away.
They cannot see the silent tear,
That falls unchecked when none are near;
Nor do they mark the smother’d sigh
That heaves my breast when they are by.