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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530106" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Elegy, To an Old Beauty</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In vain, poor Nymph, to please our youthful sight <br>You sleep in cream and frontlets all the night, <br>Your face with patches soil, with paint repair, <br>Dress with gay gowns, and shade with foreign hair. <br>If truth in spight of manners must be told, <br>Why, really fifty-five is something old. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once you were young; or one, whose life's so long <br>She might have born my mother, tells me wrong. <br>And once (since Envy's dead before you die,) <br>The women own, you play'd a sparkling eye, <br>Taught the light foot a modish little trip, <br>And pouted with the prettiest purple lip -- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To some new charmer are the roses fled, <br>Which blew, to damask all thy cheek with red; <br>Youth calls the Graces there to fix their reign, <br>And airs by thousands fill their easy train. <br>So parting Summer bids her flow'ry prime <br>Attend the sun to dress some foreign clime, <br>While with'ring seasons in succession, here, <br>Strip the gay gardens, and deform the year. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But thou (since Nature bids) the world resign, <br>'Tis now thy daughter's daughter's time to shine. <br>With more address, (or such as pleases more) <br>She runs her female exercises o'er, <br>Unfurls or closes, raps or turns the Fan, <br>And smiles, or blushes at the creature Man. <br>With quicker life, as guilded coaches pass, <br>In sideling courtesy she drops the glass. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">With better strength, on visit-days she bears <br>To mount her fifty flights of ample stairs. <br>Her mein, her shape, her temper, eyes and tongue <br>Are sure to conquer. -- for the rogue is young; <br>And all that's madly wild, or oddly gay, <br>We call it only pretty Fanny's way. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let time that makes you homely, make you sage, <br>The sphere of wisdom is the sphere of age. <br>'Tis true, when beauty dawns with early fire, <br>And hears the flatt'ring tongues of soft desire, <br>If not from virtue, from its gravest ways <br>The soul with pleasing avocation strays. <br>But beauty gone, 'tis easier to be wise; <br>As harper better, by the loss of eyes. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Henceforth retire, reduce your roving airs, <br>Haunt less the plays, and more the publick pray'rs, <br>Reject the Mechlin Head, and gold brocade, <br>Go pray, in sober Norwich Crape array'd. <br>Thy pendent diamonds let thy Fanny take, <br>(Their trembling lustre shows how much you shake;) <br>Or bid her wear thy necklace row'd with pearl, <br>You'll find your Fanny an obedient girl. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So for the rest, with less incumbrance hung, <br>You walk thro' life, unmingled with the young; <br>And view the shade and substance as you pass <br>With joint endeavour trifling at the glass, <br>Or Folly drest, and rambling all her days, <br>To meet her counterpart, and grow by praise: <br>Yet still sedate your self, and gravely plain, <br>You neither fret, nor envy at the vain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Twas thus (if Man with Woman we compare) <br>The wise Athenian crost a glittering fair, <br>Unmov'd by tongues and sights, he walk'd the place, <br>Thro' tape, toys, tinsel, gimp, perfume, and lace; <br>Then bends from Mars's Hill his awful eyes, <br>And &quot;What a world I never want?&quot; he cries; <br>But cries unheard: For Folly will be free. <br>So parts the buzzing gaudy crowd, and he: <br>As careless he for them, as they for him; <br>He wrapt in wisdom, and they whirl'd by whim.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Parnell">Thomas Parnell</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530106" data-title="An Elegy, To an Old Beauty de Thomas Parnell" data-description="In vain, poor Nymph, to please our youthful sight 
You sleep in cream and frontlets all the night, 
Your face with patches soil, with paint repair, 
Dress with gay gowns, and shade with foreign hair. 
If truth in spight of manners must be told, 
W..."></div>
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