Page:The works of Anne Bradstreet in prose and verse.djvu/469

 The Fie Pi and the Spirit. 383

For I have vow'd, (and fo will doe)

Thee as a foe, ftill to purlue.

And combate with thee will and mull, [231]

Untill I fee thee laid in th' dull.

Sifters we are, ye twins we be,

Yet deadly feud 'twixt thee and me;

For from one father are we not,

Thou by old Adam waft begot.

But my arife is from above,

Whence my dear father I do love.

Thou fpeak ft me fair, but hat ft me fore,

Thy flatt'ring fliews He truft no more.

How oft thy ftave, haft thou me made,

when I believed, what thou haft faid,

And never had more caufe of woe

Then when I did what thou bad'ft doe.

He ftop mine ears at thefe thy charms,

And count them for my deadly harms.

Thy finfull pleafures I doe hate,

Thy riches are to me no bait.

Thine honours doe, nor will I love;

For my ambition lyes above.

My greateft honour it fhall be

When I am vi6tor over thee.

And triumph fhall, with laurel head.

When thou my Captive fhalt be led,

How I do live, thou need'ft not fcoft^,

For I have meat thou know'ft not off";

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