chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.

No louder shrieks to pitying heaven are cast, When husbands or lap-dogs breathe their last.

These riches are possess'd, but not enjoy'd!

Cavil you may, but never criticise.

And all who told it added something new, and all who heard it, made enlargements too.

Careless of censure, nor too fond of fame, Still pleased to praise, yet not afraid to blame, Averse alike to flatter or offend, Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.

Woman's at best a contradiction still.