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[305]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.—