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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.

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