Beauty I sell, who'll buy? who'll buy?

Beauty I sell, who'll buy? who'll buy?
Roses and lilies girls, here am I:
Neither black, brown, nor fair, shall have cause for complaint,
They shall all look like angels, and all without paint:
Who'll buy? who'll buy?
Here am I.

Come maids and be beautiful, easy's the task,
Use this rouge newly taken from modesty's mask;
As it blooms shall fair truth shew your heart in the flush,
And duty's enamel shall polish the blush.
For duty gives charms that will last all your lives:
None but dutiful daughters make beautiful wives.
Beauty I sell, &c.

Now's your time, all ye wives, would ye beautiful grow,
Draw some drops from content's lucid fount as they flow;
Take the mildness of love, throw away all the art,
Mix these in endearment's alembic, the heart,
Let the fire of attention the whole gently boil,
Then add nature's best gloss, a perpetual smile.
Beauty I sell, &c.

Come round me, I've wares for maid, widow, and wife:
This essence of truth to the eyes gives a life,
This tincture of sweetness shall lilies disclose,
And from this, virtue's balm, shall spring beauty's best rose;
Then, while art's in fashion, how can you refuse
That which nature and reason permit you to use?
Beauty I sell, &c.