Hide behind me, my heart, and be unknown
As you were never fated to be shown
To a world that is to reality bound
And loves imaginary were, as a rule, disallowed.
For when in history, even now, can one find
A time whence two beings were in love bind,
One esteemed divine whilst the other insignificant;
Prejudice in such sentiments have always been adamant
That love should forever be in reveries concealed
When half of a life is meant to be unfulfilled.
So hide behind me, my heart, and remain obscure,
And die sick of the longing for which there is no cure.