How justly art when Cælia aids so well
Contends her ms nature to excell
The slender needles in that hand create
Such forms as hers but of a better date
The silk is placd the winding traces laid
& the gay scene with rising figures spread
here springing lillies opening roses dress
in such sweet colours & so fixd a grace
they outdoe all but those wthin her face
the well turnd leaves if by the natrall shown
You'd think they both were workd or both had grown
So strange yet beautious birds are here designd
as if she had increasd the Phœnix kind
Sure had she livd wn poets tho below
Where meritt pleaded cou'd a heavn bestow
the wondrows product of her needle here
had made her self a goddess it a starr.

Oh may no moth so rare a piece approach
May nought corrupt it with unhallowd touch
May nothing—but alas I wast my prayr
My wishes rise to loose themselves in air.
This work wch angells wou'd not blush to own
Must once the common road of ruin run
then quickly fairest on yr life reflect
Nor all your downy hours of youth neglect
think you behold this lovely piece decayd
think you are brighter yet must sooner fade
then quitt your folly be no more severe
Why woud you have no difference appear
In how the ugly live & how the fair
& tell me Celie where the diffrence lyes
'twixt those who Cant & those who wont possess
When both alike are distanc't fm their bliss.