Mien

Gentlest Guardians marked serene / His early hope, his liberal mien; […]

Beauty, like all divine gifts, is everywhere to be seen by the eye of the faithful admirer of nature; and, like all spirits, she is scarcely to be described by words. Her countenance and mien, her path, her hue and carriage, often surpass expression, and soothe the enthusiast into reverie and silence.

Jenny's coming o'er the green, / Fairer form was never seen, / Winning is her gentle mien; / Why do I love her so?

[T]aking the air with an infinite sadness of mien, like some disconsolate prisoner, Utterson saw Dr. Jekyll.

Although still young at heart and head, he looks more and more like his old friend Archimedes, increasingly bearded and increasingly grey, with an otherworldly mien – a look that should earn him a spot in the online quiz featuring portraits of frumpy old men under the rubric “Prof or Hobo?”

It’s hard to say which is worse: the press-on smiles favored by many a ballet dancer, or the stony “I’m going to pretend this isn’t happening to me” miens often found in contemporary troupes like White Road.