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Hidden Flame

 Feed a flame within, which so torments me 
That it 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.
Thus, to prevent my Love from being cruel, My heart's the sacrifice, as 'tis the fuel; And while I suffer this to give him quiet, My faith rewards my love, though he deny it.
On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me; While I conceal my love no frown can fright me.
To be more happy I dare not aspire, Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher.

Poem by John Dryden
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