Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/340

 202 THE POEMS OF ANNE �For Club, and Bolts, a Nation calVd of late, Nor wou'd be eas'd by Engines of less Weight: Bui whether lighter had not done as well, Let their Great-Grandsons, or their Grandsons tell. �REFORMATION �A Gentleman, most wretched in his Lot, �A wrangling and reproving Wife had got, �Who, tho' she curb'd his Pleasures, and his Food, �Call'd him My Dear, and did it for his Good, �Ills to prevent ; She of all Ills the worst, �So wisely Froward, and so kindly Curst. �The Servants too experiment her Lungs, �And find they've Breath to serve a thousand Tongues. �Nothing went on ; for her eternal Clack �Still rectifying, set all Matters back ; 10 �Nor Town, nor Neighbours, nor the Court cou'd please, �But furnish'd Matter for her sharp Disease. �To distant Plains at length he gets her down, �With no Affairs to manage of her own ; �Hoping from that unactive State to find �A calmer Habit, grown upon her Mind: �But soon return'd he hears her at his Door, �As noisy and tempestuous as before; �Yet mildly ask'd, How she her Days had spent �Amidst the Quiet of a sweet Content, 20 �Where Shepherds 'tend their Flocks, and Maids their �Pails, And no harsh Mistress domineers, or rails? �Not rail ! she cries Why, I that had no share �In their Concerns, cou'd not the Trollops spare; �But told 'em, they were Sluts And for the Swains, �My Name a Terror to them still remains; ��� �