This heart has never stoop'd its pride <br />To slavish love, or woman's wile; <br />But, steel'd by war, has oft defy'd <br />Her craftiest art and brightest smile. <br /> <br /> <br />This mind has trac'd its own career, <br />Nor follow'd blind, where others trod; <br />Nor, mov'd by love, or hope or fear, <br />E'er bent to man, or worshipp'd God. <br /> <br /> <br />Then hope not now to touch with love, <br />Or in its chains a heart to draw, <br />All earthly spells have fail'd to move; <br />And heav'n's whole terrors cannot awe: <br /> <br /> <br />A heart, that like some mountain vast, <br />And cold with never-melting snow, <br />Sees nought above, nor deigns to cast <br />A look away on aught below.<br /><br />Lady Caroline Lamb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/this-heart-has-never-stoop-d-its-pride/
