And, looking down within my breast
I saw its golden heart.

O such a golden heart it has,
Your eyes may never see,
To others it is always shut,
It opens but for me.

But that is why you see me pass
The honeysuckle there,
And leave the lilies in the grass,
Although they be so fair;

Why the strange orchid half-accurst--
Circe of flowers she grows--
Can tempt me not: see! in my heart,
Silver and gold, my rose.


II

Deep in a hidden lane we were,
My little love and I;
When lo! as we stood kissing there--
A flower against the sky!

Frail as a tear its beauty hung--
O spare it, little hand.
But innocence like its, alas!
Desire may not withstand.