Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/163

 Is by Prognosticates told, And some have spent their Days in terrour Of what has sprung from canting errour From Gypsies who their speech confounding Have threaten'd Hanging, Horn or Drowning In hints where doubtfull sence has hover'd Which caused but laughter when discover'd.
 * So had Ardelia sure been troubl'd

If when of piece of silver bubl'd T' had been in broaken terms imparted That e're her Death she shou'd be Carted. Yett see how Time had turn'd the Story And tun'd itt to Poetick Glory When once reveal'd that Phœbus gave itt And own'd the Cart and Swayne that drave itt In his peculiar colours seen Both whip and man array'd in Green That 'twas the Engin that did bring The water from his darling spring Which for repose was now convey'd Beneath a Beeche's secret shade. When poor Ardelia weak and faint Invades the air with this complaint That she from Home so far had stray'd By the aluring Muse betray'd By Fancies light of Nymphs and Faries Romantick Notions and figary's Of Fawns and Sylvans dark abodes Of Heroes rushing from the woods Till length of way no strength had left her And both of feet and breath bereft her Who now must take for Bed and Cover Cold earth and boughs which dangl'd over Nor cou'd return in sheets to slumber