Found half the charms that deck'd her face Arose from powder, shreds, or lace; But still the worst remain'd behind That very face had robb'd her mind. But dressing, patching, repartee; And, just as humour rose or fell, By turns a slattern or a belle. 'Tis true, she dress'd with modern grace Half-naked at a ball or race; But when at home, at board or bed, Five greasy nightcaps wrapp'd her head. Could so much beauty condescend To be a dull domestic friend? Could any curtain lectures bring To decency so fine a thing? In short-by night, 'twas fits or fretting; By day, 'twas gadding or coquetting. Fond to be seen, she kept a bevy Of powder'd coxcombs at her levee; The squire and captain took their stations, And twenty other near relations. Jack suck'd his pipe, and often broke A sigh in suffocating smoke; While all their hours were pass'd between Thus, as her faults each day were known, He thinks her features coarser grown: He fancies every vice she shows, Or thins her lip or points her nose; Whenever rage or envy rise, How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes! He knows not how, but so it is, Her face is grown a knowing phiz— He thinks her ugly as the devil. Now, to perplex the ravel'd noose, As each a different way pursues- Promis'd to hold them on for life- Withers the beauty's transient flower, And, rifling every youthful grace, Left but the remnant of a face. The glass, grown hateful to her sight, Reflected now a-perfect fright. Each former art she vainly tries To bring back lustre to her eyes; And even the captain quit the field. Poor madam, now condemn'd to hack The rest of life with anxious Jack, Perceiving others fairly flown, Jack soon was dazzled to behold For tawdry finery is seen A person ever neatly clean; No more presuming on her sway, Serenely gay, and strict in duty, Jack finds his wife a-perfect beauty. A NEW SIMILE IN THE MANNER OF SWIFT.22 LONG had I sought in vain to find |