Not all so cheareful seemed she of sight,
As was her sister: whether dread did dwell
Or anguish in her hart, is hard to tell.
Upon her arme a silver anchor lay,
Whereon she leaned ever, as befell;
And ever up to heven as she did pray,
Her stedfast eyes were bent, ne swarved other way.
--The Faerie Queen, Book I, Canto 10, XIV
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