Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/289

 ����COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA 151 �Put far off the day of Dying �Or make Youth for ever last To Love wou'd then be worth our cost. �But since we must loose those Graces Which at first your hearts have wonne �And you seek for in new Faces When our Spring of Life is done �It wou'd but urdge our ruine on �Free as Nature's first intention �Was to make us, I'll be found Nor by subtle Man's invention �Yeild to be in Fetters bound By one that walks a freer round. �Mariage does but slightly tye Men �Whil'st close Pris'ners we remain They the larger Slaves of Hymen �Still are begging Love again At the full length of all their chain. ���ALCIDOR �While Monarchs in stern Battle strove �For proud Imperial Sway; Abandon'd to his milder Love, Within a silent peaceful Grove, �Alcidor careless lay. �Some term'd it cold, unmanly Fear; �Some, Nicety of Sense, That Drums and Trumpets cou'd not hear, The sullying Blasts of Powder bear, �Or with foul Camps dispense. 10 ��� �