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Poems On several Choice and Various Subjects

Occasionally Composed By An Eminent Author. Collected and Published by Sergeant-Major P. F. [i.e. James Howell]

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Of Female Hypocrisie, In a short Dialog twixt Dion and Thyrsis.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


103

Of Female Hypocrisie, In a short Dialog twixt Dion and Thyrsis.

Dion.
Thyrsis , I stand amaz'd how Nature could
Compose a Fabrick of so rich a mould,
That outwardly looks like a Seraphin,
But a Megera if you pry within.

Thyrsis.
Whom mean you, Dion, that you thus descry
By such gross taintures of Hypocrisie?
For hence you must infer that Nature's blind,
Or els she must be partial in her kind.

Dion.
O Thyrsis, if that Saint-like Fiend you knew,
That sowr-sweet, real, yet dissembling Hue
Of Livia, sure you wold be chang'd to wonder,
That Nature in her works should so much blunder.

104

Her Eyes are like those Heaven Twins, except
That of Themselfs they shine, not by reflect,
Wherein through Crystal Casements one may spy
The Queen of Love seated in Majesty.
Her Forehead as the Marble smooth and plain,
Her Cheeks alike, but that half dy'd in Grain:
Her Tresses might serve for a Net to take
A Hermit, or an Angel captive make.
A Smile to move a Stoik, a Voice so shrill,
That all Arcadia wold with Eccho's fill:
A sweeter Breath never perfum'd the Air:
Least touch of Lip would a dead Corps repair.
These are Perfections in Exterior shew;
But if her inward Qualities you knew,
What you ador'd before you would detest,
Turn Love to Hate, (or Pity at the least.)
Her Breast's a Shop of Fraud, her Heart a Mill
That restless thoughts do grind to wound or kill,
Her Brain's a Still that at all hours doth strain
Destructive cruel Notions of Disdain.
Her Eyes are Windows of False Lights, and cries,
Her Toung a flap of Perjury and Lyes:
Her Chin is double like her Heart; Her Cheeks
Have Pits, as 'twere to bury whom she seeks
For to destroy.—


105

Thyrsis.
Is't possible so fair a Bark shold hide
So black a Trunk, or so much Ill shold bide
In such Seraphik Beuties? Shells of Gold,
Can they within such rotten Kernels hold?
Can in smooth gliding streams Carybdies dwell?
Or in one place cohabit Heav'n and Hell?
Can Livia be so beuteous to th' Eyes,
And lodg within such foul deformities?

Dion.
'Tis so: whence I infer how tru I find,
No trust is to be put in Woman-kind.