Epigram 45. To Lydia

You boast that you are beautiful, and wear
A several rich Gown every week i'th' year;
That every day new Servants you do win:
But yet no vertue have to glory in.
One of less beauty and less bravery, and
Servantless, sooner should my heart command.
Beauty will fade, and ruines leave behind;
Give me the lasting beauty of the mind.
Servants and clothes are the Enammel oft
Of bodies too luxurious and soft.
Leave vaunting (Lydia) therefore till you can
Speak one true vertue, and I'le hear you then.