Thou who wilt not love, do this,
Learn of me what woman is.
Something made of thread and thrum,
A mere botch of all and some,
Pieces, patches, ropes of hair ;
Inlaid garbage everywhere.
Outside silk and outside lawn ;
Scenes to cheat us neatly drawn.
False in legs, and false in thighs ;
False in breast, teeth, hair, and eyes ;
False in head, and false enough ;
Only true in shreds and stuff.