At Bracknell (I.)
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
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.
Written March, 1814
Published 1858
Source:
The Lyrics and Shorter Poems of Percy Bysshe ShelleyCopyright 1907, reprinted 1913
London: J.M. Dent and Sons, Ltd.
New York: E.P. Dutton and Co.