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POEMS WRITTEN FROM 1814
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.
TO MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT
MINE eyes were dim with tears unshed ;
Yes, I was firm—thus wert not thou ;My baffled looks did fear yet dread
To meet thy looks—I could not know 1 This stanza was written in March 1814, while Shelley was staying at the house of Mrs. Boinville. See Memoir, in vol. i, pages xxx and xxxi.- ED.
2 This poem belongs to June 1814.—ED.
How anxiously they sought to shine
Which preys upon itself alone;
Of fettered grief that dares not groan, Hiding from many a careless eye The scornèd load of agony.
The thou alone should be,
As thou, sweet love, requited me When none were near-Oh! I did wake From torture for that moment's sake.
Upon my heart thy accents sweet
Of peace and pity fell like dew On flowers half dead ;—thy lips did meet
Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw Their soft persuasion on my brain, Charming away its dream of pain.
We are not happy, sweet ! our state
Is strange and full of doubt and fear; More need of words that ills abate ;
Reserve or censure come not near Our sacred friendship, lest there be No solace left for thee and me.
Nor can I live if thou appear