Thy dewy looks sink in my breast; <br />Thy gentle words stir poison there; <br />Thou hast disturbed the only rest <br />That was the portion of despair! <br />Subdued to Duty's hard control, <br />I could have borne my wayward lot: <br />The chains that bind this ruined soul <br />Had cankered then-but crushed it not.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/written-at-bracknell/
