I Would Not Feign A Single Sigh Nor Weep A Single Tear For Thee: The Soul Within These Orbs Burns Dry; A Desert Spreads Where Love Should Be. I Would Not Be A Worm To Crawl A Writhing Suppliant In Thy Way; For Love Is Life, Is Heaven, And All The Beams Of An Immortal Day. For Sighs Are Idle Things And Vain, And Tears For Idiots Vainly Fall. I Would Not Kiss Thy Face Again Nor Round Thy Shining Slippers Crawl. Love Is The Honey, Not The Bee, Nor Would I Turn Its Sweets To Gall For All The Beauty Found In Thee, Thy Lily Neck, Rose Cheek, And All. I Would Not Feign A Single Tale Thy Kindness Or Thy Love To Seek; Nor Sigh For Jenny Of The Vale, Her Ruby Smile Or Rosy Cheek. I Would Not Have A Pain To Own For Those Dark Curls And Those Bright Eyes A Frowning Lip, A Heart Of Stone, False Love And Folly I Despise.