Cheeks which are colored from the dewy rose;
Lips, whence young smiles go forth and where they rest:
A swan-like neck above a snowy breast,
Where many a golden curl light-waving flows.
A forehead bright as sunshine — hazel brows,
Pencil'd as if by art — their orbits drest
In living light of innocence, — repress'd
Each heaving sigh, and every breath that rose
Half-smother'd — thus it was that I was bound;
Love's thousand, thousand fetters girt me round:
What time he lull'd me with his sweet delusion,
Till I awoke, midst struggling, strife, and care;
Grief fought with hope, and fancy with despair,
And soul with sense — all conflict and confusion.