And Prince and Pedlar differ but in name,
Folly with Fashion is discreetly grac'd,
And, if all sin, not all can sin in taste;
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For who, ye Gods! would ever go astray,
If 'twas not something in a modish way?
Oh! Fashion, caprice, pride—whate'er we call—
Thou something, nothing, dear attractive all;
Thou serious trifle of the gentle Soul,
Worship'd, yet changing, varying to controul;