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Rh Will err, and measures false pursue. 'Tis very strange, I own, but true. Mamma observ'd the rising lass By stealth retiring to the glass, To practise little airs unseen, In the true genius of thirteen: On this a deep design she laid To tame the humour of the maid: Contriving, like a prudent mother, To make one folly cure another. Upon the wall against the seat Which Jessy us'd for her retreat, Whene'er by accident offended, A looking-glass was straight suspended, That it might shew her how deform'd She look'd, and frightful when she stormed, And warn her, as she priz'd her beauty, To bend her humour to her duty: