Think not, Lothario, while I view <br />The bright expression of thy face, <br />And on thy cheek of crimson hue <br />Emotion's varying beauties trace, <br /> <br />That in my heart one feeling dwells, <br />But what the coldest must approve, <br />Nor think my conscious bosom swells <br />With aught resembling secret love. <br /> <br />No....still these eyes can fix on thine, <br />Nor fear their keenest glance to meet; <br />And when thou boldly searchest mine, <br />My quiet heart disdains to beat. <br /> <br />But, if by vain self-love misled, <br />Thou in my looks canst passion see; <br />And think, by weak illusions fed, <br />My towering hopes aspire to thee.... <br /> <br />Let us my absent Henry seek; <br />And when he meets my conscious eyes, <br />In every glance my heart will speak, <br />And plainly tell for whom it sighs.<br /><br />Amelia Opie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-lothario/
