That  goes with Bow and Arrows,
And  keeps her Coach and Sparrows,
Is all but Emblem, to acquaint One,
The Son is sharp, the Mother wanton.
Such Images have sometimes shown
A  Sense, but oft'ner None.
For who conceives, what Bards devise,
That Heav'n is plac'd in  Eyes?
Or where's the Sense, direct or moral,
That Teeth are Pearl, or Lips are Coral?