Her Likeness

A GIRL, who has so many wilful ways

She would have caused Job's patience to forsake him;

Yet is so rich in all that's girlhood's praise,

Did Job himself upon her goodness gaze,

A little better she would surely make him.

Yet is this girl I sing in naught uncommon,

And very far from angel yet, I trow.

Her faults, her sweetnesses, are purely human;

Yet she's more lovable as simple woman

Than any one diviner that I know.

Therefore I wish that she may safely keep

This womanhede, and change not, only grow;

From maid to matron, youth to age, may creep,

And in perennial blessedness, still reap

On every hand of that which she doth sow.