Yet lest of dress she should be vain,
Mamma still dress’d her well, but plain.
Her parents, sensible and kind,
Wish’d only to adorn her mind;
No other dress, when good, had she,
But useful, neat simplicity.
Though seldom, yet when she was rude,
Or ever in a naughty mood,
Her punishment was this disgrace,
A large fine cap, adorn’d with lace,
With feathers and with ribbons too;
The work was neat, the fashion new,
Yet, as a fool’s-cap was its name,
She dreaded much to wear the same.
A lady, fashionably gay,
Did to mamma a visit pay:
Sophia stared, then whisp’ring said,
‘Why, dear mamma, look at her head!
To be so tall and wicked too,
The strangest thing I ever knew:
What naughty tricks, pray, has she done,
That they have put that fool’s-cap on? ‘