Woman's At Best A Contradiction

But Would You Sing, And Rival Orpheus' Strain. The Wond'ring Forests Soon Should Dance Again; The Moving Mountains Hear The Powerful Call. And Headlong Streams Hand Listening In Their Fall!

At Every Trifle Take Offense, That Always Shows Great Pride Or Little Sense.

Lo, What Huge Heaps Of Littleness Around!

The Flower's Are Gone When The Fruits Appear To Ripen.

Be Niggards Of Advice On No Pretense; For The Worst Avarice Is That Of Sense.