Every dame affects good fame, whate'er her doings be

Every dame affects good fame, whate'er her doings be,
But true praise is Virtue's bays which none may wear but she.
Borrowed guise fits not the wise, a simple look is best;
Native grace becomes a face, though ne'er so rudely drest.
Now such new found toys are sold, these women to disguise,
That before the year grows old the newest fashion dies.

Dames of yore contended more in goodness to exceed
Than in pride to be envied, for that which least they need.
Little lawn then serve[d] the Pawn, if Pawn at all there were;
Homespun thread, and household bread, then held out all the year.
But th' attires of women now wear out both house and land;
That the wives in silks may flow, at ebb the good men stand.

Once again, Astrea, then, from heaven to earth descend,
And vouchsafe in their behalf these errors to amend!
Aid from heaven must make all even, things are so out of frame;
For let man strive all he can, he needs must please his dame.
Happy man, content that gives and what he gives, enjoys!
Happy dame, content that lives and breaks no sleep for toys!