Obtén una còpia impresa del llibre
Sobre aquest llibre
Early Poems
HY 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.