To Mrs. Armine Cartwright, At Bath.
Lovely Armina, o'er her Books reclin'd,
Impairs her Body, to improve her Mind:
Of Wisdom fond, as others are of Wealth,
In that Pursuit will sacrifice her Health:
Then, Miser--like, when she has gain'd the Prize,
Hides both Herself, and Treasure, from our Eyes.
In this alone, Armina, you're to blame,
Regardless of your Health, or Friendship's Claim:
A giddy, thoughtless World your Aid require;
And Ignorance prevails, when You retire.
Why, Form'd to please! and why, Improv'd with Care!
Is there no End, in being Wise, and Fair?
poem by Mary Barber
Added by Poetry Lover
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