Mix’d, all unconscious that she dwelt alone.
“But none will harm her—Or who, willing can?
She is too wretched to have fear of man—
Not man! but something—if it should appear,
That once was man—that something did she fear. 130
“No causeless terror!—In that moon’s clear light
It came, and seem’d a parley to invite;
It was no hollow voice—no brushing by
Of a strange being, who escapes the eye—
No cold or thrilling touch, that will but last