Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/165

Rh That Pegasus, what e're they fancy'd Had ne're for them one step aduanced Yett if that she like Quaker tir'd But a conveniency desir'd There shou'd from neer a verdant bush With foot cloath matt and seat of rush Be drawn a rev'rend grave Machine As slow as if for Spanish Queen As safe as Litter gently led With Lady sleeping in her bed And tho' the form some might dispise Who view'd itt but with outward Eyes Yett Quixotts Brancart till he built itt A Velvett roof and richly gilt itt With Fancy's Pencil was not braver And with th'invention which he gave her She might convert wou'd she not spare itt This Roulo to tryumphant Charret Turn wood to steel and ropes to Leather And forehead bough to Ostritch Feather Since all was as opinion made itt Not as the Artists hand ore-laid itt. This said, he mixt with shining Day And left her to persue the way Exalted high to all beholders As Burgesse on ellecting shoulders On totterring chair in Tumbrill's middle And wanting but fore-running Fiddle To guide the wond'ring Rabble right And pick their Purses for the sight. 