Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/313

 COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA ���175 ���Whoe'er would catch this Dame, must swiftly ride. �Mark, how she seems to Fly, and with her bears, �All that is worth a busie Mortal's Cares: �The gilded Air about her Statue shines, �As if the Earth had lent it all her Mines; �At random Here a Diadem she flings, �And There a scarlet Hat with dangling Strings, 10 �And to ten Thousand Fools ten Thousand glorious �Things. �Shall I then stay at Home, Dull and Content With Quarter-Days, and hard extorted Rent? No, I'll to Horse, to Sea, to utmost Isles, But I'll encounter her propitious Smiles: Whilst you in slothful Ease may chuse to Sleep, And scarce the few Paternal Acres keep. Farewel, reply'd his Friend, may you advance, And grow the Darling of this Lady Chance: Whilst I indeed, not courting of her Grace, 20 �Shall dwell content, in this my Native Place, Hoping I still shall for your Friend be known: But if too big for such Acquaintance grown, I shan't be such a fond mistaken Sot, To think Remembrance should become my Lot; When you Exalted, have your self Forgot. Nor me Ambitious ever shall you find, Or hunting Fortune, who, they say, is Blind: But if her Want of Sight shou'd make her Stray, She shou'd be Welcome, if she came this Way. 30 �'Tis very like (the Undertaker cry'd) That she her Steps to these lost Paths shou'd guide: But I lose Time, whilst I such Thoughts deride. Away he goes, with Expectation chear'd, But when his Course he round the World had steer'd, And much had borne, and much had hop'd and fear'd, ��� �