VII. on Affectation

Poor Affectation! how much better be That which we seem, than idly thus, like thee, To seem what we are not? Thy cheating art Robs ev'n its owner of the better part; For when thou striv'st to please, 'tis all in vain, And pain'd thyself, thou giv'st to others pain. Twin-child of Treachery with deadly Guile, Disguis'd like thee in gesture, look, and smile. Slight ape of gracefulness, without the grace, That mock'st the sympathies of human race. Lover and friend without love or esteem; Nothing to be, but all things fair to seem: Endimpled so, the whirlpool hides death's frown, As smiling on him whom it seeks to drown!