Beauteous her face, beauteous her mind:
Yet something dreadful in her eyes I saw
Which ever kept my falt'ring tongue in awe,
And gave my panting soul a law.
50So have I seen a modest beggar stand,
Worn out with age and being oft denied,
On his heart he laid his hand;
And though he look'd as if he would have died
The needy wretch no alms did crave:
He durst not ask for what he fear'd he should not have.