“Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride,
Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide:
If to her share some female errors fall,
Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all.”
More from Alexander Pope
“Our rural ancestors, with little blest, Patient of labor when the end was rest, Indulged…”
“Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd, Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd. Hide…”
“All forms that perish other forms supply, (By turns we catch the vital breath and die)…”
“Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be,…”