Sonnet. "I would I knew the lady of thy heart!"

I would I knew the lady of thy heart!
  She whom thou lov'st, perchance, as I love thee.
  She unto whom thy thoughts and wishes flee;
  Those thoughts, in which, alas! I bear no part.
  Oh, I have sat and sighed, thinking how fair,
  How passing beautiful, thy love must be;
  Of mind how high, of modesty how rare;
  And then I've wept, I've wept in agony!
  Oh that I might but once behold those eyes,
  That to thy enamoured gaze alone seem fair;
  Once hear that voice, whose music still replies
  To the fond vows thy passionate accents swear:
  Oh that I might but know the truth and die,
  Nor live in this long dream of misery!