Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/289

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The WIFE of BATH.
253
Then, nor till then, the veil's remov'd away,And all the woman glares in open day.You tell me, to preserve your wife's good grace,Your eyes must always languish on my face,Your tongue with constant flatt'ries feed my ear,And tag each sentence with, My life! my dear!If, by strange chance, a modest blush be rais'd,Be sure my fine complexion must be prais'd:My garments always must be new and gay,And feasts still kept upon my wedding-day:Then must my Nurse be pleas'd, and fav'rite maid;And endless treats, and endless visits paid,To a long train of kindred, friends, allies;All this thou say'st, and all thou say'st are lies.On Jenkin too you cast a squinting eye;What? can your prentice raise your jealousy?Fresh are his ruddy cheeks, his forehead fair,And like the burnish'd gold his curling hair.But clear thy wrinkled brow, and quit thy sorrow,I'd scorn your prentice, should you die to morrow.

Why

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