A Collection of Poems | ||
83
To the PAINTER of a young Lady's Picture.
While you, Sir Artist, are allow'd to thrive,(Whom no right pious Man would wish alive)
Divines on Idol-worship may declaim,
And urge the Force of sacred Texts, in vain;
For while your Pencil so profanely paints,
'Twill make more Sinners, than the Pulpit Saints.
A Collection of Poems | ||