TO A YOUNG BEAUTY
 
 DEAR fellow-artist, why so free
 With every sort of company,
 With every Jack and Jill?
 Choose your companions from the best;
 Who draws a bucket with the rest
 Soon topples down the hill.
 You may, that mirror for a school,
 Be passionate, not bountiful
 As common beauties may,
 Who were not born to keep in trim
 With old Ezekiel's cherubim
 But those of Beauvarlet.
 I know what wages beauty gives,
 How hard a life her setvant lives,
 Yet praise the winters gone:
 There is not a fool can call me friend,
 And I may dine at journey's end
 With Landor and with Donne.