![Captivity - Mary Queen Of Scots, By: William Wordsworth](https://i0.wp.com/poetrycatalog.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Captivity-Mary-Queen-Of-Scots-By-William-Wordsworth.png?resize=750%2C420&ssl=1)
“As the cold aspect of a sunless way
Strikes through the Traveller’s frame with deadlier chill,
Oft as appears a grove, or obvious hill,
Glistening with unparticipated ray,
Or shining slope where he must never stray;
So joys, remembered without wish or will
Sharpen the keenest edge of present ill,
On the crushed heart a heavier burthen lay.
Just Heaven, contract the compass of my mind
To fit proportion with my altered state!
Quench those felicities whose light I find
Reflected in my bosom all too late!
O be my spirit, like my thraldom, strait;
And, like mine eyes that stream with sorrow, blind!”