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.—