Don Juan 04-095
Canto the Fourth
But all that power was wasted upon him,
 For sorrow o'er each sense held stern command;
Her eye might flash on his, but found it dim;
 And though thus chain'd, as natural her hand
Touch'd his, nor that -- nor any handsome limb
 (And she had some not easy to withstand)
Could stir his pulse, or make his faith feel brittle;
Perhaps his recent wounds might help a little.

George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron (1788-1824)