Her form had all the softness of her sex,
Her features all the sweetness of the Devil,
When he put on the Cherub to perplex
Eve, and paved (God knows how) the road to evil;
The Sun himself was scarce more free from specks
Than she from aught at which the eye could cavil;
Yet, somehow, there was something somewhere wanting,
As if she rather ordered than was granting.—