Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/144

6 A Woman here, leads fainting Israel on, She fights, she wins, she tryumphs with a song, Devout, Majestick, for the subject fitt, And far above her arms, exalts her witt, Then, to the peacefull, shady Palm withdraws, And rules the rescu'd Nation, with her Laws. How are we fal'n, fal'n by mistaken rules? And Education's, more then Nature's fools, Debarr'd from all improve-ments of the mind, And to be dull, expected and dessigned; And if some one, wou'd Soar above the rest, With warmer fancy, and ambition press't, So strong, th' opposing faction still appears, The hopes to thrive, can ne're outweigh the fears, Be caution'd then my Muse, and still retir'd; Nor be dispis'd, aiming to be admir'd; Conscious of wants, still with contracted wing, To some few freinds, and to thy sorrows sing; For groves of Lawrell, thou wert never meant ; Be dark enough thy shades, and be thou there content. THE PREFACE Beaumont in the beginni[n]g of a Coppy of Verses to his freind Fletcher (upon the ill successe of his Faithfull Shepheardesse) tells him, I know too well! that no more, then the man That travells throo' the burning Deserts, can When he is beaten with the raging Sun, Half smother'd in the dust, have power to run From a cool River, which himself doth find, E're he be slack'd; no more can he, whose mind Joys in the Muses, hold from that delight, When Nature, and his full thoughts, bid him write.