To an Old Gentlewoman, Who Painted Her Face
Leave off, good Beroe, now,
to sleek thy shrivelled skin;
For Hecuba's face will never be
as Helen's hue hath been.
Let beauty go with youth,
renounce the glozing glass,
Take book in hand: that seemly rose
is woxen withered grass.
Remove thy peacock's plumes,
thou crank and curious dame:
To other trulls of tender years
resign the flag of fame.