Ask not, whence springs my ceaseless sadness, <br />But let me still the secret keep: <br />Ask not, why thus in restless madness <br />Pass the long hours once given to sleep: <br /> <br />And strive not thus my looks to read:…. <br />For 't is by certain fate decreed, <br />The cause that bids me rove forlorn, <br />If known, would only move thy scorn, <br />And make with anger's lightnings shine <br />Those now soft-smiling eyes of thine. <br /> <br />But know, when I no more behold thee, <br />And to distant scenes remove; <br />Should e'er a mournful tale be told thee, <br />Of a youth who died for love, <br /> <br />Who, though unknown to rank and fame, <br />Dared to admire a high-born dame; <br />But, still averse to wound her pride, <br />Sad silence kept, and pined, and died:…. <br />My likeness in that victim see, <br />And pitying him thou'lt pity me.<br /><br />Amelia Opie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-written-to-a-hindoo-air-2/
