Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/299

 COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA 161 �Near the fatal Trumpet's sound; �Or where Pestilences reign, �And Quacks the greater Plagues maintain; �Shaking still his sandy Glass, �And mowing Human Flesh, like Grass. 20 �Love, as next his Leave he took, �Cast on both so sweet a Look, �As their Tempers near disarm'd, �One relax'd, and t'other warm'd; �Shades for his Retreat he chose, �Rural Plains, and soft Repose; �Where no Dowry e'er was paid, �Where no Jointure e'er was made; �No 111 Tongue the Nymph perplex'd, �Where no Forms the Shepherd vex'd; 30 �Where Himself shou'd be the Care, �Of the Fond and of the Fair: �Where that was, they soon should know, �Au Revoir! then turn'd to Go. �Reputation made a Pause, �Suiting her severer Laws; �Second Thoughts, and Third she us'd, �Weighing Consequences mus'd; �When, at length to both she cry'd: �You Two safely may Divide, 40 �To th' Antipodes may fall, �And re-ascend th' encompast Ball ; �Certain still to meet agen �In the Breasts of tortur'd Men; �Who by One (too far) betray'd, �Call in t'other to their Aid: �Whilst I Tender, Coy, and Nice, �Rais'd and ruin'd in a Trice, �Either fix with those I grace, ��� �