d a shining train appears,
In rosy beauty, and in prime of years!
_This_ hates a flounce, and _this_ a flounce approves,
_This_ shews the trophies of her former loves;
_Polly_ avers that _Sylvia_ dress in green,
When last at church the gaudy Nymph was seen;
_Chloe_ condemns her optics, and will lay
'Twas azure sattin, interstreak'd with grey;
_Lucy_ invested with judicial pow'r,
Awards 'twas neither--and the strife is o'er.

Then parrots, lap-dogs, monkeys, squirrels, beaus,
Fans, ribbands, tuckers, patches, furbaloes,
In quick succession, thro' their fancies run,
And dance incessant on the flippant tongue.
And when fatigued with ev'ry other sport,
The belles prepare to grace the sacred court,
They marshal all their forces in array,
To kill with glances and destroy in play.
Two skilful _maids_, with reverential fear,
In wanton wreaths collect their silken hair;
Two paint their cheeks, and round their temples pour
The fragrant unguent, and the ambrosial show'r;
One pulls the shape-creating stays, and one
Encircles round her waist the golden zone:
Not with more toil t' improve immortal charms,
Strove _Juno_, _Venus_, and the _Queen of Arms_,
When _Priam's_ Son adjudg'd the golden prize
To the resistless beauty of the skies.
At length equip'd in love's enticing arms,
With all that glitters and with all that charms,
Th' ideal goddesses to church repair,
Peep thro' the fan and mutter o'er a pray'r,
Or listen to the organ's pompous sound,
Or eye the gilded images around;
Or, deeply studied in coquetish rules,
Aim wily glances at unthinking fools;
Or shew the lilly hand with graceful air,
Or wound the fopling with a lock of hair:
And when the hated discipline is o'er,
And _Misses_ tortur'd with _Repent_ no more,
They mount the pictur'd coach, and to the play
The celebrated idols hie away.

Not so the _Lass_ that shou'd my joys improve,
With solid friendship, and connubial love:
A native bloom, with intermingled white,
Should set features in a pleasing light;
Like _Helen_ flushing with unrival'd charms.
When raptur'd _Paris_ darted in her arms.
But what, alas! avails a ruby cheek,
A downy bosom, or a snowy neck!
Charms ill supply the want of innocence,
Nor beauty forms intrinsic excellence:
But in her breas