Wrapp'd and confounded in a thousand fears, (457)
Like to a new-kill'd bird she trembling lies; (458)
She dares not look; yet, winking, there appears (459)
Quick-shifting antics, ugly in her eyes: (460)
Such shadows are the weak brain's forgeries;
Who, angry that the eyes fly from their lights, (462)
In darkness daunts them with more dreadful sights.