To the Same

I will now cease, nor ruffle more Thy beauteous cheek with speech so free; My silent dying shall restore Its peace, and mutely speak for me.

I have already deeply erred In saying what were best unsaid, Thy gentle heart I have but stirred, Not staunched a single wound that bled.

Henceforth I heave no fruitless sighs, No tears but unseen tears I shed; The injured heart that silent dies, Has that which speaks in Injury's stead!