Anon

Be still, my beating heart. You feel too much, want too much.

Control yourself, you impetuous little fiend. You give me away, pounding in the chest at such sudden provocation.

Steady now, my keeper of secrets. Time can alter this moment, cheapen this conviction, blur this judgment.

Hush now, flutter softly. But heavens, no. Never desist.

Inspired by 

William Mountfort's 

Zelmane, 1705