So mingling elements compose our bodies frame,
Fire, water, earth, and air,
Alike their just proportions share,
Each undistinguished still remains the same,
Yet can't we say that either's here, or there,
But all, we know not how, are scattered everywhere.
5
No tawdry careless slattern dress.
Nor starched, and formal with affectedness,
Nor the cast mode, and fashion of the court and town;
But neat, agreeable, arid jaunty 'twas,
Well fitted, it sate close in every place,
And all became, with an uncommon air and grace:
Rich, costly and substantial was the stuff,
Not barely smooth, nor yet too coarsely rough:
No refuse, ill-patched shreds of the schools,
The motley wear of read and learnèd fools,
No French commodity which now so much does take,
And our own better manufacture spoil;
Nor was it aught of foreign soil,
But staple all, and all of English growth and make:
What flowers soe'er of art it had, were found
No tinsel slight embroideries,
But all appeared either the native ground,
Or twisted, wrought, and interwoven with the piece.
6
Not masked with any antic dress,
Nor screwed in forced ridiculous grimace
(The gaping rabble's dull delight,
And more the actor's than the poet's wit)
Such did she enter on thy stage,
And such was represented to the wondering age:
Well wast thou skilled and read in human kind,
In every wild fantastic passion of his mind,
