How Oft Doth Beauty Lead to Sin

How oft doth beau­ty lead to sin

And tempt the heart to stray;

It charms awhile

then hides again

And soon it fades away!

Not all the art

and pains

and care

Of man can make it sure;

Nor can the fair­est of the fair

The tran­si­ent bliss se­cure.

Sickness and pain may soon dis­grace

The most ad­mir­èd charms:

Soon must they sleep in death’s em­brace

And lose their love­ly forms.

How vain is beau­ty

then

my Muse!

Unworthy of thy lays:

Turn

and a nob­ler sub­ject choose

Let vir­tue have thy praise.

How wise is she whose con­stant care

Pursues the heav’n­ly road:

She shall the Eter­nal’s fa­vor share

And eve­ry real good.

She ev­er shuns the snares of vice

How cir­cum­spect her ways!

Wise in sim­pli­ci­ty she is;

Unsought her ge­ner­al praise.

If she is called to min­gle souls

How cau­tious is her choice;

No vain pre­tense her love con­trols

She scorns the flat­ter­er’s voice.

United

see

il­lus­tri­ous shines

The ten­der

pru­dent wife;

Humility her soul re­fines

Grace go­verns all her life.

What un­dis­sem­bled love she bears

To him who has her hand:

How does she soft­en all his cares

And all his woes at­tend!

Is she a friend? How kind and true!

Her char­ity

how pure!

Her friend­ship is not like the dew

That pass­es in an hour.

She shall be praised when beau­ty fails

And years and age in­crease:

She shall be blest while grace pre­vails

And end her days in peace.