But Oh! my youth was fearful, and I felt
So deep an awe of that unspotted worth
And saint-like gentleness—such a mistrust
Of my own powers to tell him what I wish'd,
That I resisted all my feelings claim'd,
In anguish I resisted; but a spell
Hung o'er me and compell'd me to be mute.
Methinks I still behold him! tall and fair,
He had a look so tranquil and so mild,
That something holy stole upon the sense