Fragment: Such Hope, As Is The Sick Despair Of Good
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Such hope, as is the sick despair of good,
Such fear, as is the certainty of ill,
Such doubt, as is pale Expectation's food
Turned while she tastes to poison, when the will
Is powerless, and the spirit...
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For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.