A Beauty Hint – Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Sweet, think how much the better it would be 

If you thro’ life should thus preserve your beauty. 

It really doesn’t matter much to me; 

But don’t you think you owe the world a duty, 

And don’t you think that thro’ some kindly thought – 

Of me, for instance – beauty were well bought? 
Those wrinkles on your face, dear, 

Those bags beneath your eyes 

Are but the evil trace, dear, 

Of temper, spite and lies. 

Why can’t you be a saint, dear, 

Like dear old Joan of Arc; 

Be pleasant – which you ain’t, dear, 

And do not be a nark. 
Consider, sweetheart, if you smiled always 

How much, thro’ weeks, your face might be improving; 

In place of which, in these unhappy days, 

You go to beauty shops for the removing 

Of wrinkles, blemishes and ugly warts. 

Why, when a smile will serve, seek these resorts? 
Why can’t you raise a grin, sweet, 

And be a little beauty? 

For ugliness is sin, sweet, 

And loveliness a duty. 

So, for my sake, why can’t you make 

An effort to he glad. 

Just think of me and joyful be; 

For I am not too bad.