| Share
 

Stanza, Written at Bracknell

Thy dewy looks sink in my breast;
Thy gentle words stir poison there;
Thou hast disturbed the only rest
That was the portion of despair!
Subdued to Duty's hard control, 
I could have borne my wayward lot:
The chains that bind this ruined soul
Had cankered then—but crushed it not.