"There is a fort of negligence, "Which some efteem as excellence, "Your art with so much art to hide, "That nothing of it be defcried; "To make your carelefs treffes flow "With so much air, that none should know "Whether they had been comb'd or no. "But, in this so neglected hair, "Many a heart has found its fnare. "Nature indeed has kindly fent "Us many things; more we invent: "Little enough, as I may say, "To keep our beauty from decay. "As leaves that with fierce winds engage, "Our curling treffes fall with age. "But then by German herbs we find "Colour, for locks to grey inclin'd. "Sometimes we purchase hair; and why? "Is not all that our own we buy ? "You buy it publicly, fay they : "Why tell us that, when we don't pay. "Of French pomades the town is full: "Praise Heaven, no want of Spanish wool! "Let them look flusht, let them look dead, "That can't afford the white and red. "In Covent Garden you buy pofies, "There we our lilies and our roles. "Who would a charming eyebrow lack, "Who can get any thing that's black? "Let not these boxes open lie: "Some folks are too much given to pry. "Art not diffembled would difgrace "The purchas'd beauties of our face: "This if fuch perfons fhould discover, 'Twould rather lofe than gain a lover. "Who is there now but understands "Searcloths to flea the face or hands? Though the idea's not fo taking, "And the skin seems hut odd in making, "Yet, when 'twill with fresh luftre shine, "Her fpark will tell you 'tis divine. "That picture there your eyes does strike; "It is the work of great Van Dycke, "Which by a Roman would be fainted: "What was't but canvas till 'twas painted? "There's feveral things should not be known:" "O'er these there is a curtain drawn, "Till 'tis their feafon to be fhewn. "Your door on fit occafions keep "Faft fhut: who knows but your're asleep? "When our teeth, colour, hair, and eyes, "And what elfe at the toilet lies, "Are all put on, we're faid to rife. "There was a lady whom I knew, "That must be name lefs, 'cause 'tis truc, "Who had the difmaleft mifchance "I've heard of fince I was in France: "I do proteft the thoughts of it "Have almoft put me in a fit. "Old Lady Meanwell's chamber-door, "Just on the stairs of the first floor, "Stood open: and pray who should come, "But Knowall Houncing in the room? "No fingle hair upon her head: thought he would have fell down dead. 46 The young look on fuch things as stuff, "Thinking their bloom has art enough. "When smooth, we matter it not at all; "'I'is when the Thames is rough, we squall. "But, whate'er it is may be pretended, "No face or shape but may be mended. "All have our faults, and must abide them, "We therefore should take care to hide them. "You're fhort; fit ftill, you'll taller feem: "You're only fhorter from the ftem. "By lofer garb your leannefs is conceal'd; "By want of ftays the groffer fhape's reveal'd: "The more the blemishes upon the feet, "The greater care the lace and fhoes be neat. "Some backs and fides are wav'd like billows: "These holes are best made up with pillows. "Thick fingers always fhould command "Without the stretching out the hand. "Who has bad teeth fhould never fee "A play, unless a tragedy: "For we can teach you how to fimper, "And when 'tis proper you fhould whimper. "Think that your grace and wit is now "Not in your laughing at a thing, but how. "Let room for fomething more than breath Juft fhew the ends of milk-white teeth. "There is a je n' feai quoi is found "In a foft fmooth affected found: "But there's a fhrieking crying tone, "Which I ne'er lik'd, when all is done : "And there are fome, who laugh like men, "As ne'er to shut their mouths again; "So very loud and mal-propos, They feem like hautboys to a fhew. "Now for your talk-Come, let me fee: "Rather than want, it should be taught. "There's fome their mincing gait have chofe Treading without their heel or toes. "She that reads Taffo or Malherbe, "Chooses a step that is fuperbe. "Some giddy creatures, as if fhunning 66 Something diflik'd, are always running. "Some prance like Frenchwomen, who ride "As our life-guards men, all aftride. "But each of thefe have decoration "According to their affectation. "That dance is graceful, and will please, "Where all the motions glide with cafe. "We to the skilful theatre "This feeming want of art prefer. ""Tis no fmall art to give direction "How to fuit knots to each complexion, "How to adorn the breaft and head, "With blue, white, cherry, pink, or red. "As the morn rifes, fo that day "Wear purple, fky-colour, or grey: "Your black at lent, your green in May; "Your filamot when leaves decay. "All colours in the fummer thine : "The nymphs should be like gardens fine. "It is the fashion now-a-days, "That almost every lady plays. Baffet and Piquet grow to be "The fubject of our comedy: "But whether we diverfion feek "In thefe, in comet, or in gleek, "Or Ombre, where true judgment can "Difclefe the fentiments of man; "Let's have a care how we discover, Efpecially before a lover, "Some paffions which we should conceal, "Thus we may pafs our time: the men Hunting, cocking, racing, joking, "Fuddling, fwimming, fencing, fmoking; "And little thinking how poor we "Muft vent our fcandal o'er our tea. "I fee no reafon but we may "Be brifk, and equally as gay. "Whene'er our gentlemen would range, "We'll take our chariot for the 'Change: "If they're difpofing for the play, "We'll haften to the opera: By the mahner in which Taffo and Malherbe are mentioned by Dr. King, they feem not to have been the moit fathionable authors of that age. Our author nas tranflated what he calls An admirable Ode of Malherbe." "Or when they'll luftily carouse, "We'll furely to the Indian house: "And at fuch coft whilst thus we roam, "For cheapnefs fake they'll stay at home. "Few wife men's thoughts e'er yet pursued "That which their eyes had never view'd! "And so our never being feen "Is the fame thing as not t’have been. "Grandeur itself and poverty "Were equal if no witness by: And they who always fing alone "Can ne'er be prais'd by more than one. "Had Danaë been fhut up ftill, "She'd been a maid against her will, "And might have grown prodigious old, "And never had her flory told. "ris fit fair maids fhould run a-gadding, "To fet the amorous beaux a-madding. "To many a sheep the wolf has gone "Ere it can neatly feize on one; "And many a partridge fcapes away "Before the hawk can pounce its prey: "And fo, if pretty damfels rove, They'll find out one perhaps may love; "If they no diligence will fpare, "And in their dreffing ftill take care. "The fifher baits his hook all night, "In hopes by chance fome eel may bite. "Each with their different grace appears, Virgins with blush, widows with tears, "Which gain new husbands tender-hearted, "To think how fuch a couple parted. "But then there are fome feppifh beaux "Like us in all things but their clothes; "That we may feem the more robust, "And fittest to accost them first : "With powder, paint, false locks, and hair, "They give themselves a female air; "Who, having all their tale by rote, "And harping ftill on the fame note, "Will tell us that, and nothing more "Than what a thousand heard before. Though they all marks of love pretend, There's nothing which they lefs intend: "And, 'midst a thousand hideous oaths, "With jewels false and borrow'd clothes, "Our eafinefs may give belief "To one that is an arrant thief." The spark was coming; the, undreft, Scuttles away as if poffeft. The governefs cries, "Where d'ye run?" "Why, Madam, I've but just begun." She bawls; the other nothing hears, But leaves her prattling to the chairs. Virtue, without thefe little arts, There's nothing but will eafy prove, '7 VIRGINS fhould not unskill'd in mufic be; As Syrens by their songs entice their prey. In lofty grandeur, but without excess. A name afumed by Mrs. Aphra Behn. She was autherefs of feventeen plays, two volumes of novels, several tranflations, and many poems. + The poetical name of Mrs. Catharine Philips. She was born in London 1631; was married to James Philips, of the priory of Cardigan, Eiq. about the year 1647; and died June 1664. Her poems have been feveral times printed. She was alfo the writer of a volume of letters, intituled, Letters from Orinda to Poliarchus." This lady was the wite of Sir George Chudleigh, Bart. of Athton, Devonfhire. She died Dec. 15, 1710. Her poems were twice printed in her lifetime in one volume 8vo. the fecond edition in 1709. She alfo published volume of effays upon several subjects, in profe and verse, 1710. And wealth, as beauty orders it beftow'd, Poets have quick defire and paffion strong; Firft fee how Sidney, then how Cowley mov'd, And with what art it was that Waller lov'd. Forget not Dorset, in whofe generous mind Love, fenfe, wit, honour, every grace combin'd; And if for me you one kind with would fpare, Answer a poet to his friendly prayer. Take Stepney's verse, with candour ever bleft; For love will there ftill with his ashes reft. There let warm fpice and fragrant odours burn, And everlasting fweets perfume his urn. Not that the living Mufe is to be scorn'd: Britain with equal worth is fill adorn'd. See Halifax, where fenfe and honour mixt Upon the merits juft reward have fixt: And read their works, who, writing in his praise, To their own verse immortal laurels raise. Learn prior's lines; for they can teach you more Than facred Ben, or Spenfer, did before: And mark him well that uncouth physic's art Can in the fofteft tune of wit impart. Ova manners like our countenance should be; Which in that paffion once confults her glass. What you would love, with quick difcretion view: And would shake off the yoke when 'tis too late : Whilft the curs'd poifons through the vitals run. The tree not to be shook has pierc'd the ground; You then prefent a trial for his fword: And many a boat does its deftruction find Our enemy a naked fword? "We all expected you to play: Scorch its gay wings, then unregarded die. There is a Mount, Hymettus ftyl'd, Into fome fecret hedge would creep, "Cooler would come! "Cooler, come; coller, come; cooler, A woman, that had heard him fing, Soon had her malice on the wing: For females ufually don't want A fellow-goflip that will cant; Who ftill is pleas'd with others ails, She thought that the might raife fome ftrife "She ftraight would heigh her to the wood, "And he'd repent it-that he should." With eager hafte away the moves, Never regarding scarf or gloves: Into the grotto foon the creeps, And into every thicket peeps, And to her eyes there did appear Two prints of bodies-that was clear: "And now (fhe cries) I plainly fee "How time and place, and all agree: "But here's a covert, where I'll lie, "And I fhail have them by and by." 'Twas noon; and Cephalus, as last time, And then he fung, and then he hum'd, She would have rufh'd into his arms; But, as the leaves began to rustle, He thought fome beast had made the bustle. He fhot, then cried, I've kill'd my deer." ર Ay, so you have,” (fays Cris) “I fear.""Why, Criffy, pray what made you here?". By Goffip Trot, I understood "You kept a fmall girl in this wood " Quoth Ceph," "Tis pity thou fhould'st die "For this thy foolish jealoufy: "For 'tis a paffion that does move "Too often from excess of love." But, when they fought for wound full fore, Which in fome measure bruis'd her rump. [trude, Their following years pafs'd in content; And Criffy made him the best wife For the remainder of his life. The Mufe has done, nor will more laws obLeft fhe, by being tedious, should be rude. Unbrace love's fwans, let them unharness'd stray, And eat ambrofia through the milky way. Give liberty to every Paphian dove, And let them freely with the Cupids rove. But, when the Amazonian trophies rife With monuments of their pal victories; With what difcretion and what are they fought : Let them record, “ They were by Ovih taught." |