Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry:
O, if you felt the pain I feel!
But O, who ever felt as I?
No longer could I doubt him true—
All other men may use deceit;
He always said my eyes were blue,
And often swore my lips were sweet.
Walter Savage Landor
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mother-i-cannot-mind-my-wheel-3/
