The spacious streets were silent as the grave!

As though the place were uninhabited,

Or some deserted city of the dead,

With doors and windows closed:— when, meekly brave,

From feudal tyranny's stern law to save,

GODIVA from her palace forth was led,

In bashful boldness, of true Virtue bred;

While tears and prayers her only welcome gave

From thousands—listening for her courser's tread!

So on she rode in unblenched majesty;

“Naked, yet not ashamed!”— her tresses pale

At once her modesty's and beauty's veil

From every wanton or unhallowed eye;

More proudly clothed in thoughts and feelings high

Than warrior panoplied in triple mail!