Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/181

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As some (she sais) wou'd have itt, tho' as yett No line he in a Lady's fan has writt, N'ere on their dresse, in verse, soft things wou'd say, Or with loud clamour ouer powr'd a Play, And right or wrong, preuented the third day; To read in publick places, is not known, Or in his Chariot, here appears alone ; Bestows no hasty praise, on all that's new. When first this Coach came out to publick veiw, Mett in a visit, he presents his hand And takes me out, I make a willfull stand, Expecting, sure, this wou'd applause invite, And often turn'd, that way, to guide his sight; Till finding him wrapp'd in a silent thought, I ask'd, if that the Painter well had wrought, Who then reply'd, he 'has in the Fable err'd, Cov'ring Adonis with a monstrous beard; Made Hercules (who by his club is shewn) A gentler fop then any of the Town, Whilst Venus, from a bogg is rising seen, And eyes a squint, are given to beautys queen I had no patience, longer to attend, And know 'tis want of witt, to discomend.
 * Must Piso then! be judg'd by such as these,

Piso, who from the Latin, Virgil frees, Who loos'd the bands, which old Sylenus bound, And made our Albion rocks repeat the mistick sound, "Whilst all he sung was present to our eyes "And as he rais'd his verse, the Poplars seem'd to rise?" Scarce cou'd I in my brest my thoughts contain, Or for this folly, hide my just disdain. When see, she says, observe my best of friends, And through the window, half her length extends Exalts her voyce, that all the ring may hear;