To judge of Men, we shou'd not Trust our Eyes; }
Outward Appearance may Delude the Sight;
Nor is it good to gaze too near the Light:
For tho' your _Beauty_, like a Painted Scene,
May Dang'rous prove to the Vile Race of Men,
Who at the greater distance do Admire,
And shun the heat of Love's Important Fire.
Whose _Little God_, like lesser Thieves, unseen, }
Steals to our Hearts, we scarce know how or when, }
His _Standard_ hoists and Guards the Fort Within; }
Then like a Tyrant does our Peace Controul,
And absolutely Lords it o'er the Soul:
Thus, with your _Heart_, your _Fortune_ he'll Dispose:
He does the _Man_, you but the _Husband_ chuse.
And tho' a _Fool_, you must the _Wretch_ receive;
For where we _Love_, we soon our Persons give.

Therefore, _Melissa_, wisely Guard your Heart;
What _Nature_ won't defend, defend by _Art_:

Shun, I advise you, most Devoutly shun,
Those _Servile Apes_ that swarm about the Town;
_Pert, Noisie Coxcombs, Self-admiring Beaux_,
Known by their _want_ of _Wit_, and _Gawdy Cloaths_:

Of all the Creatures Nature does provide,
To stock the World from _Ignorance_ to _Pride_;
Of all that from her various Bosom spring,
A _Beau_ I think the oddest kind of thing;
A selfish Compound, singular, and Vain,