A cutting way of dealing
With sentimental feeling,
You wouldn't altogether care to choose her for a wife.
But ah! she is the casket of a compensating excellence,
The odour of a sanctity peculiarly her own,
She knows she is, without a doubt,
Intensely moral out and out,
And so she sits in judgment on a self-constructed throne.
As Censor of corruptousness,
Of Nature in voluptousness,