Falfe though they prove, what lofs can you fuftain?
Thence let a thousand take, 'twill all remain.
Though conftant ufe ev'n flint and steel impairs,
What you employ no diminution fears.
Who would, to light a torch, their torch deny?
Or who can dread drinking an ocean dry?
Still women lofe, you cry, if men obtain ;
What do they lofe, that 's worthy to retain ?
Think not this faid to prostitute the fex,
But undeceive whom needlefs fears perplex.
Thus far a gentle breeze fupplies our fail,
Now launch'd to fea, we afk a brisker gale.
And, firft, we treat of drefs. The well-drefs'd vine
Produces plumpeß grapes, and richest wine;
And plenteous crops of golden grain are found,
Alone, to grace well-cultivated ground.
Beauty's the gift of gods, the fex's pride!
Yet to how many is that gift deny'c

v'd?

Art helps a face; a face, though heavenly fair,
May quickly fade for want of needful care.
In ancient days if women flighted dress,
Then men were ruder too, and lik'd it lefs.
If Hectors fpoufe was clad in stubborn stuff,
A foldier's wife became it well enough.
Ajax, to shield his ample breast, provides
Seven lufty bulls, and tans their sturdy hides;
And might not he d'ye think, be well carefs'd,
And yet his wife not elegantly drefs'd ?
With rude fimplicity Rome firft was built,
Which now we see adorn'd, and carv'd, and gilt.

This capitol with that of old compare ;

Some other Jove, you'd think, was worship'd there.
That lofty pile, where fenates dictate law,

When Tatius reign'd, was poorly thatch'd with ftraw
And where Apollo's fane refulgent flands,
Was heretofore a track of pafture-lands.
Let ancient manners other men delight;
But me the modern please, as more polite.
Not that materials now in gold are wrought,
And diftant fhores for orient pearls are fought;
Nor for, that hills exhauft their marble veins,
And ftructures rife whofe bulk the fea reftrains;
But, that the world is civiliz'd of late,

And polish'd from the ruft of former date.
Let not the nymph with pendants load her ear,
Nor in embroidery, or brocade, appear;
Too rich a drefs may fometimes check defire;
And cleanlinefs more animates love's fire.
The hair difpos'd, may gain or lole a grace,
And much become, or mifbecome the face.
What fuits your features, of your glafs enquire;
For no one rule is fix'd for head-attire.

A face too long fhould part and flat the hair,
Left, upward comb'd, the length too much appear:
So Laodamia drefs'd. A face too round

Should fhow the cars, and with a tower be crown'd.
On either fhoulder, one, her locks displays;
Adorn'd like Phoebus, when he fings his lays:
Another, all her treffes ties behind;

So dress'd, Diana hunts the fearful hind.

Dishevel❜d locks moft graceful are to fome ;
Others, the binding fillets more become:
Some plait, like spiral fhells, their braided hair,
Others, the loose and waving curl prefer.
But to recount the feveral dresses worn,
Which artfully each feveral face adorn,
Were endless, as to tell the leaves on trees,
The beafts on Alpine hills, or Hybla's bees.
Many there are, who seem to flight all care,
And with a pleafing negligence enfnare;
Whofe mornings oft in fuch a drefs are spent,
And all is art that looks like accident.
With fuch diforder Iole was grac'd,

When great Alcides first the nymph embrac'd.
So Ariadne came to Bacchus' bed,
When with the conqueror from Crete she fled.
Nature, indulgent to the fex, repays
The loffes they fuftain, by various ways.
Men ill fupply those hairs they fhed in age,
Loft, like autumnal leaves, when north-winds rage.
Women, with juice of herbs, grey locks disguise,
And Art gives colour which with Nature vies.
The well-wove towers they wear, their own are thought;
But only are their own, as what they 've bought.
Nor need they blush to buy heads ready dress'd,
And chufe, at public fhops, what fuits them beft.
Coftly apparel let the fair-one fly,

Enrich'd with gold, or with the Tyrian dye.
What folly must in fuch expence appear,
When more becoming colours are lefs dear?

One,

One, with a dye is ting'd of lovely blue;
Such as, through air ferene, the fky we view.
With yellow luftre fce another spread,
As if the golden-fleece compos'd the thread.
Some, of the fea-green wave the cast display ;
With this the nymphs their beauteous forms array:
And fome the faffron hue will well adorn;
Such is the mantle of the blufhing morn.
Of myrtle-berries, one, the tincture shows;
In this, of amethyfts, the purple grows,
And, that, more imitates the paler rofe.
Nor Thracian cranes forget, whofe silvery plumes
Give patterns, which employ the mimic looms.
Nor almond, nor the chefnut dye disclaim;
Nor others, which from wax derive their name.
As fields you find, with various flowers o'erfpread,
When vineyards bud, and winter's froft is fled;
So various are the colours you may try,

Of which, the thirsty wool imbibes the dye,
Try every one what best becomes you, wear;
For no complexion all alike can bear.

If fair the skin, black may become it best,
In black the lovely fair Brifeis drefs'd:

If brown the nymph, let her be cloath'd in white,
Andromeda fo charm'd the wondering fight.

I need not warn you of too-powerful smells,
Which, fometimes health, or kindly heat, expels.
Nor, from your tender legs to pluck with care
The cafual growth of all unfeemly hair.

I 4

}

Though

Though not to nymphs of Caucafus I fing,
Nor fuch who tafte remote the Myfian fpring;
Yet, let me warn you, that, through no neglect,
You let your teeth disclose the leaft defe&t.
You know the ufe of white to make you fair,
And how, with red, loft colour to repair;
Imperfect eye-brows you by art can mend,
And skin, when wanting, o'er a fear extend.
Nor need the fair-one be afham'd, who tries,
By art, to add new luftre to her eyes.

::

A little book I've made, but with great care, How to preferve the face, and how repair. In that, the nymphs, by time or chance annoy'd, May fee, what pains to please them I 've employ❜d. But, ftill beware, that from your lover's eye You keep conceal'd the medicines you apply : Though art affifts, yet muft that art be hid, Left, whom it would invite, it fhould forbid. Who would not take offence, to fee a face All daub'd, and dripping with the melted grease? And though your unguents bear th' Athenian name, The wool's unfavoury fcent is ftill the fame. Marrow of ftags, nor your pomatums try, Nor clean your furry teeth, when men are by; For many things, when done, afford delight, Which yet, while doing, may offend the fight. Ev'n Myro's ftatues, which for art furpafs All others, once were but a fhapeless mass; Rude was that gold which now in rings is worn, As once the robe you wear was wool unshorn.