Sonnet 28

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 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.