I know the 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, or 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.

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