'Tis like perfuming an ill Scent,
The Smell's too strong for Art.

So have I seen grave Fools design
With formal Looks to pass for wise:
But Nature is a Light will shine,
And break thro' all Disguise.

IN vain a thousand Slaves have try'd
To overcome Clarinda's Pride:
Pity pleading,
Love perswading,
When her icy Heart is thaw'd,
Honour chides, and strait she's aw'd.
Foolish Creature,
Follow Nature,
Waste not thus your Prime;
Youth's a Treasure,
Love's a Pleasure,
Both destroy'd by Time.