Sonnet Ccxcviii:

Tonight I saw my darling, bathed in light, Sit as she slowly combed her splendid hair Into one tress, through which the piercing glare Shot dusky gold against surrounding night. Her upturned brow was pearl-like, and that pair Of glorious eyes, which rule me as by right, Half closed beneath their lids, shone faintly bright, Like dawn's first streak along the eastern air. Her cheek was pale, I fancied;--ah! but why? Had act of mine thus turned the rose to grey, Blanched the fair brow, and closed the weary eye? Oh! God, I knew not; but upon me lay At once, like Cain's, His curse; and with a cry, Bitter as guilt's, I fled in tears away.