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.
Skill'd in no other arts was she
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 night-caps wrapt 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 past between
Insulting repartee or spleen.

Thus as her faults each day were known, He thinks her features coarser grown:/ He fancies ev'ry vice she shews,

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 phyz;

And though her fops are wond'rous civil,

He thinks her ugly as the devil.
Now, to perplex the ravell'd noose,
As each a diff'rent way pursues,
While sullen or loquacious strife
Promis'd to hold them on for life,
That dire disease, whose ruthless pow'r
Withers the beauty's transient flow'r,
Lo! the small-pox, whose horrid glare
Levell❜d its terrors at the fair;

And, rifling ev'ry 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. In vain she tries her pastes and creams To smooth her skin, or hide its seams; Her country beaux and city cousins, Lovers no more, flew off by dozens: The 'squire himself was seen to yield, And e'en the captain quit the field.

Poor madam, now condemn'd to hack

The rest of life with anxious Jack,
Perceiving others fairly flown,
Attempted pleasing him alone.
Jack soon was dazzled to behold
Her present face surpass the old ;
With modesty her cheeks are dy'd,
Humility displaces pride;
For tawdry finery is seen
A person ever neatly clean :

No more presuming on her sway,
She learns good-nature ev'ry day:
Serenely gay, and strict in duty,

Jack finds his wife a perfect beauty.

THE GIFT.

ΤΟ

IRIS, IN BOW-STREET, COVENT-GARDEN.

SAY, cruel Iris, pretty rake,

Dear mercenary beauty,

What annual off'ring shall I make
Expressive of my duty?

My heart, a victim to thine eyes,
Should I at once deliver,

Say, would the angry fair one prize
The gift who slights the giver?

A bill, a jewel, watch, or toy,
My rivals give-and let 'em ;
If gems, or gold, impart a joy,
I'll give them-when I get 'em.