Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day,
Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old age away;
. . . .
To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint,
Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint.
In various talk th' instructive hours they past, Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last; One speaks the glory of the British queen, And one describes a charming Indian screen; A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes; At every word a reputation dies.