Amid the throng Was old Emathion too, friend to the just, And Fearer of the gods; though ancient years Forbade his wielding arms, what aid his words Could give, he spar'd not: curs'd the impious war, In loud upbraidings.
"The Metamorphoses of Publius Ovidus Naso in English blank verse Vols. I & II"
Ovid
I spent a quarter of an hour in a fearful solitude, listening for knocks at the door, as a ghost-Fearer might at midnight, and 'came home' none the worse in any way.
"The Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, Vol. 1 (of 2) 1845-1846"
Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett