The poem
AH, Chloris, since it may not be, That thou of love wilt hear; If from the lover thou maun flee, Yet let the friend be dear.
Altho’ I love my Chloris mair Than ever tongue could tell; My passion I will ne’er declare— I’ll say, I wish thee well.
Tho’ a’ my daily care thou art, And a’ my nightly dream, I’ll hide the struggle in my heart, And say it is esteem.