The Poetical Works of John Dryden, Vol II: Song in

  I feed a flame within, which so torments me,
  That it both pains my heart, and yet contents 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, not 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;
  Where 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.

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