The Beau, In Answer To The Belle Poem by Cornelius Arnold

Artist! since it is confest,
That of Painters you're the best;
Prithee as thou dost excel,
Draw the Beau as well as Belle;
Draw him just as when I saw,
The Dear One shine at Ranelagh;
Let his Hat be very small,
Of the finest Beaver all;
Light as Feather, Emblem plain!
Of his Levity of Brain;
On his Head a Bag Toupee,
Frizzl'd Alamode Parí:
Short, that so may full appear,
The enchanting Brunette Ear;
Grace his Neck quite debonnair,
With the modish Solitaire;
Of the blackest Riband sleek,
Let it flutt'ring tap his Cheek;
Draw the Lock that's in his Pole,
Give the wanton Eye its Roll;
Don't forget the Patch and Dimple,
Patch that's plac'd to hide a Pimple:
And be sure the Coat you load,
With golden Tassels Alamode;
Blue too, of the finest Die,
Just to cover half the Thigh;
Sattin Waistcoat white as Milk,
Breeches of the finest Silk;
Nor a Wrinkle let there be,
Short too, just above the Knee;
Let the Dresden Ruffles shew,
Hand as white as any Snow;
Bright's his Sword, I have been told,
As rough William's was of old;
Heroes then their chief Delight in
Was in conquering and fighting;
Fools who study'd nothing less,
Than Taste in Modes, Taste in Dress:
Now the finest Hose put on,
E'er laborious Silk Worm spun;
Touch off the glitt'ring Buckle too,
Softest Spanish for the Shoe;
O'er all his Form with Art disclose,
An Air like Dancing as he goes:
Take these Hints without Delay,
To the World this Thing display;
The Beau shall then with Shame confess,
That e'en his better Part is Dress.