My head is wild with weeping for a grief
Which is the shadow of a gentle mind.
I walk into the air (but no relief
To seek,--or haply, if I sought, to find;
It came unsought);--to wonder that a chief
Among men’s spirits should be cold and blind.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fragment-my-head-is-wild-with-weeping/
