Poetry Archives

I know a thing that’s most uncommon;
  (Envy, be silent and attend!)
I know a reasonable woman,
  Handsome and witty, yet a friend.

Not warp’d by passion, awed by rumour;
  Not grave through pride, nor gay through folly;
An equal mixture of good-humour
  And sensible soft melancholy.

‘Has she no faults then (Envy says), Sir?’
  Yes, she has one, I must aver:
When all the world conspires to praise her,
  The woman’s deaf, and does not hear.