Belinda's pride's an arrant cheat,
A foolish artifice to blind;
Some honest glance, that scorns deceit,
Does still reveal her native mind.

With look demure, and forc'd disdain,
She idly acts the faint;
We see thro' this disguise as plain
As we distinguish paint.

So have I seen grave fools design
With formal looks to pass for wise;
But Nature is a light will shine,
And break thro' all disguise.