The Furniture Of A Woman's Mind

A set of phrases learn'd by rote;     A passion for a scarlet coat;     When at a play, to laugh or cry,     Yet cannot tell the reason why;     Never to hold her tongue a minute,     While all she prates has nothing in it;     Whole hours can with a coxcomb sit,     And take his nonsense all for wit;     Her learning mounts to read a song,     But half the words pronouncing wrong;     Has every repartee in store     She spoke ten thousand times before;     Can ready compliments supply     On all occasions cut and dry;     Such hatred to a parson's gown,     The sight would put her in a swoon;     For conversation well endued,     She calls it witty to be rude;     And, placing raillery in railing,     Will tell aloud your greatest failing;     Nor make a scruple to expose     Your bandy leg, or crooked nose;     Can at her morning tea run o'er     The scandal of the day before;     Improving hourly in her skill,     To cheat and wrangle at quadrille.         In choosing lace, a critic nice,     Knows to a groat the lowest price;     Can in her female clubs dispute,     What linen best the silk will suit,     What colours each complexion match,     And where with art to place a patch.         If chance a mouse creeps in her sight,     Can finely counterfeit a fright;     So sweetly screams, if it comes near her,     She ravishes all hearts to hear her.     Can dext'rously her husband teaze,     By taking fits whene'er she please;     By frequent practice learns the trick     At proper seasons to be sick;     Thinks nothing gives one airs so pretty,     At once creating love and pity;     If Molly happens to be careless,     And but neglects to warm her hair-lace,     She gets a cold as sure as death,     And vows she scarce can fetch her breath;     Admires how modest women can     Be so robustious like a man.         In party, furious to her power;     A bitter Whig, or Tory sour;     Her arguments directly tend     Against the side she would defend;     Will prove herself a Tory plain,     From principles the Whigs maintain;     And, to defend the Whiggish cause,     Her topics from the Tories draws.         O yes! if any man can find     More virtues in a woman's mind,     Let them be sent to Mrs. Harding;[1]     She'll pay the charges to a farthing;     Take notice, she has my commission     To add them in the next edition;     They may outsell a better thing:     So, holla, boys; God save the King!