To Day, as at my Glass I stood, <br />To set my Head--cloaths, and my Hood; <br />I saw my grizzled Locks with Dread, <br />And call'd to mind the Gorgon's Head. <br /> <br />Thought I, whate'er the Poets say, <br />Medusa's Hair was only gray: <br />Tho' Ovid, who the Story told, <br />Was too well--bred to call her old; <br />But, what amounted to the same, <br />He made her an immortal Dame. <br /> <br />Yet now, whene'er a Matron sage <br />Hath felt the rugged Hand of Age, <br />You hear out witty Coxcombs cry, <br />Rot that old Witch--she'll never die. <br />Tho', had they but a little Reading, <br />Ovid would teach them better Breeding. <br /> <br />I fancy now, I hear you say, <br />Grant Heav'n, my Locks may ne'er be gray! <br />Why am I told this frightful Story? <br />To Beauty a Memento mori. <br /> <br />And, as along the Room you pass, <br />Casting your Eye upon the Glass, <br />Surely, say you, this lovely Face <br />Will never suffer such Disgrace: <br />The Bloom, that on my Cheek appears, <br />Will never be impair'd by Years. <br />Her Envy, now, I plainly see, <br />Makes her inscribe those Lines to me. <br />These Beldams, who were born before me, <br />Are griev'd to see the Men adore me: <br />Their snaky Locks freeze up the Blood; <br />My Tresses fire the purple Flood. <br /> <br />Unnumber'd Slaves around me wait, <br />And from my Eyes expect their Fate: <br />I own, of Conquest I am vain, <br />Tho' I despise the Slaves I gain. <br />Heav'n gave me Charms, and destin'd me <br />For universal Tyranny.<br /><br />Mary Barber<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-mrs-frances-arabella-kelly/
