Percy Bysshe Shelley

(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)

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.

Submitted: Thursday, April 01, 2010

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