Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/192

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Next springs th' Hesperian Broom and last th' Assyrian Rose, Shall endlesse Rove nor tread the way he went No Thread to guide his steps, no Clue but ravish'd scent. But Oh ! Alas ! cou'd we this Prospect give And make itt in true lights and shaddows live Ther's yett a Task att which 'twere vain to Strive His Genius who th' original improv'd To this degree that has our wonder mov'd Too great appears and awes the trembling hand Which can no Colours for that Draught comand No syllables the most sublimely wrought Can reach the loftier Immage of his thought Whose Judgment plac'd in a superior hight All things surveys with comprehensive sight Then pittying us below stoops to inform us right In Words which such convincing Reasons bear We silent wish that they engraven were And grudge those Sounds to the dispersing air. Protect Him Heaven and long may He appear The leading Star to his great Offspring here Their Treasury of Council and support Who when att last he shall attend your Court To all his future Race the mark shall be To stem the waves of Life's tempestuous Sea Who from abroad shall no Examples need Of men Recorded or who then Exceed To urdge their Virtue and exalt their Fame Whilest their own Weymouth stands their noblest Aime. But we Presume, and ne're must hope to trace His Worth profound, his Daughters matchlesse Grace Or draw paternall Witt deriv'd into her Face Though from his Presence and her Charms did grow The Joys Ardelia att Long-leat did know.