MATTHEW PRIOR
But from what house so ever her lineage may come I wish my own Jinny but out of her tomb, Tho* all her relations were there in her room.
Of such terrible beauty she never could boast
As with absolute sway o'er all hearts rules the roast
When J bawls out to the chair for a toast ;
But of good household features her person was made, Nor by faction cried up nor of censure afraid, And her beauty was rather for use than parade.
Her blood so well mix't and flesh so well pasted That, tho j her youth faded, her comeliness lasted; The blue was wore off, but the plum was well tasted.
Less smooth than her skin and less white than her breast Was this polished stone beneath which she lies pressed Stop, reader, and sigh while thou thinkst on the rest.
With a just trim of virtue her soul was endued,
Not affectedly pious nor secretly lewd
She cut even between the coquette and the prude.
Her will with her duty so equally stood That, seldom oppos'd, she was commonly good, And did pretty well, doing just what $>he would.
Declining all power she found means to persuade,
Was then most regarded when most she obey'd,
The mistress in truth when she seem'd but the maid.
Such care of her own proper actions she took That on other folk's lives she had no time to look, So censure and praise were struck out of her book.
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