On Her Vanity
What are these things thou lovest? Vanity.
To see men turn their heads when thou dost pass;
To be the signboard and the looking glass
Where every idler there may glut his eye;
To hear men speak thy name mysteriously,
Wagging their heads. Is it for this, alas,
That thou hast made a placard of a face
On which the tears of love were hardly dry?
What are these things thou lovest? The applause
Of prostitutes at wit which is not thine;
The sympathy of shop-boys who would weep
Their shilling's worth of woe in any cause,
At any tragedy.--Their tears and mine,
What difference? Oh truly tears are cheap!