ABSTRACT
And when she sees her Friend in deep despair, Observes how much a Chintz exceeds Mohair. 170 Forbid it Heav'n, a Favour or a Debt She e'er should cancel-but she may forget. Safe is your Secret still in Cloe's ear; But none of Cloe's shall you ever hear. Of all her Dears she never slander'd one, 175 But cares not if a thousand are undone. Would Cloe know if you're alive or dead? She bids her Footman put it in her head. Cloe is prudent-would you too be wise? Then never break your heart when Cloe dies. 180
One certain Portrait may (I grant) be seen, Which Heav'n has varnish'd out, and made a Queen: The same for ever! and describ'd by all With Truth and Goodness, as with Crown and Ball: Poets heap Virtues, Painters Gems at will, 185 And show their zeal, and hide their want of skill. 'Tis well-but, Artists! who can paint or write, To draw the Naked is your true delight: That Robe of Quality so struts and swells, None see what Parts of Nature it conceals. 190 Th' exactest traits of Body or of Mind, We owe to models of an humble kind. If QUEENSBERRY to strip there's no compelling, 'Tis from a Handmaid we must take a Helen. From Peer or Bishop 'tis no easy thing 195 To draw the man who loves his God, or King: Alas! 1 copy (or my draught would fail) From honest Mah'met, or plain Parson Hale.
