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And set to work millions of spinning worms,
Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, But must be current; and the good thereof Consists in mutual and partaken bliss, Unsavoury in the enjoyment of itself;
If you lot slip time, like a neglected rose
It withers on the stalk with languished head.86
Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown
In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities,
Where most may wonder at the workmanship;
It is for homely features to keep home,37
They had their name thence; coarse complexions,
And cheeks of sorry grain, will serve to ply
The sampler, and to tease the housewife's wool.
What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?
There was another meaning in these gifts;
Think what, and be advised: you are but young yet.
I had not thought to have unlocked my lips 3S In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes, Obtruding false rules prankt39 in Reason's garb. I hate when Vice can bolt40 her arguments, And Virtue has no tongue to check her pride. Impostor, do not charge most innocent Nature, As if she would her children should be riotous
With her abundance; she, good cateress.
Means her provision only to the good.
That live according to her sober laws.
And holy dictate of spare Temperance:
If CTery just man, that now pines with want.
Had but a moderate and beseeming share
Of that which lewdly-pampered Luxurv
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess.
Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed
In unsuperfluous even proportion,
And she no whit encumbered with her store;
And then the Giver would be better thanked.
His praise due paid; for swinish Gluttony
Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous fea»t,
But with besotted base Ingratitude
Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder. Shall I go on
Or have I said enough? To him that dares
Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words
Against the sun-clad power of chastity,
Fain would I something say, yet to what end?
Thou hast nor ear, nor soul, to apprehend
The sublime notion, and high mystery,
That mast be uttered to unfold the sage
And serious doctrine of virginity;
And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know
More happiness than this thy present lot.
Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric,
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence,
Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced;
Yet, should I try, the uncontrolled worth
Of this pure cause woidd kindle my rapt spirits
To such a flame of sacred vehemence,
That dumb things would be moved to sympathise,
And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake,
Till all thy magic structures, reared so high,
Were shattered into heaps o'er thy false head.
She fables not: I feel that I do fear41