Classic Poem

To the Lover :

The scene now clos'd, and Eustace eas'd, at heart ,
Pardon six lines, in pity of poor Smart :
One play will bear two morals ; and I'll show,
There's something for our sex, e'en in a beau .

I HAVE , a spark , of captain Smart's fine airs;
His front white-border'd , with a fringe of hairs ,
His new-print Hat , like Elziver in small
Tips a huge round O face , in Capital !
Short , and hid, harmless , hangs his sword declin'd,
While a long tail , misplac'd, struts out, behind .

S TRANGE contradictions his mixt dress implies:
A short, Dutch waiste , with skirts of blue-coat size,
Two harness-buckles his poor shoes must wear,
Yet be allow'd no heels , their weight to bear!
Narrow his ruffles — but in broad amends,
Up, to his shoulders , the flap'd sleeve extends!
And yet, while this pert dress , thus, two fold ran,
His short red waistcoat — look'd but half a man.

In my averted eyes , he read my thought ,
And vow'd to charm me, the first glance he caught.
Then stoop'd — hung wriggling back — wav'd , smil'd, and scrap'd ,
And clos'd his hands — and cock'd his chin and gap'd .

Madam, said he, 'twill poze your wit to guess
The mysteries of this emblematic dress;
These Hats we wear , to prove us free from pride ;
Light, humble measurers of the brains, they hide .
This round head-crop, a mystic sign appears,
In due detection of our meaning ears .
Our sword's old needless length away we threw,
As sworn, to shun all battles , but with you .
Inside and out , each mark your claim insures,
And every inch of every Smart is yours.
He bow'd and sneer'd ; — and I a convert grew,
Nor 'till that moment, half his merits knew.

Let wives , who wish subjection , marry wits ;
Women love power — A fool our fancy hits:
We can be heads ourselves — and want of brain ,
Let him have no worse want , ne'er gives us pain .