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A Collection Of Poems

By John Whaley

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To CÆLIA at Her Toilet.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


172

To CÆLIA at Her Toilet.

Let Nymphs less Bright, with nicest Care,
Their else too feeble Charms improve;
Learn from their Glass a softer Air,
And teach their Smiles to kindle Love;
Lay ev'ry Hair with studious Art,
Place ev'ry patch with just Design,
Bid ev'ry Dimple know its part,
Each ruddy Lip its forces join.
Thy perfect Charms might well despise
Each labour'd elegance of Dress;
No Art can e'er improve those Eyes,
No plainness make their Lustre less.

173

Spontaneous white the Lilly decks,
With native Red the Rose Bud glows,
Charming beyond the borrow'd streaks
In which the gaudiest Tulip blows:
Thus will th'admiring World confess,
Fair Cælia, thy unpurchas'd Charms;
Those genuine Smiles thy only Dress,
Those killing Eyes, thy surest Arms.
Nor less thy faithful Swain wou'd Love,
Tho' Sickness turn'd thy Beauties pale;
Truth, Wit, and Sense will ever move,
Tho' Ceruss and Vermillion fail.