The Wit and the Beau.

The Wit and the Beau.

STrephon, whose Person ev'ry Grace Was careful to adorn; Thought, by the Beauties of his Face, In Silvia's Love to find a place, And wonder'd at her Scorn.

With Bows, and Smiles he did his Part. But Oh! 'twas all in vain: A Youth less Fine, a Youth of Art Had talk'd himself into her Heart, And wou'd not out again.

Strephon with change of Habits press'd, And urg'd her to admire; His Love alone the Other dress'd, As Verse, or Prose became it best, And mov'd her soft Desire.

This found, his courtship Strephon ends, Or makes it to his Glass; There, in himself now seeks amends, Convinc'd, that where a Wit pretends, A Beau is but an Ass.