Her high birth no pride imparts,
For she blushes in her place.
Folly boasts a glorious blood,
She is noblest, being good.
Habington.
54. O'er her features steal, serenely mild,
The trembling sanctity of woman's truth,
Her modesty, and simpleness, and grace;
Yet those who deeper scan the human face,
Amid the trial-hour of fear or ruth,