Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/200
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62
The Poems of Anne
Now, shou'd by them, th' unwelcome news be spread,
O're all th' extended, mournfull Land,
O're all the coasts, o're all the Kentish strand,
That Twisden is no more, their Matchlesse Patriot's dead. 20
O're all th' extended, mournfull Land,
O're all the coasts, o're all the Kentish strand,
That Twisden is no more, their Matchlesse Patriot's dead. 20
2
But oh! in vain, things void of sence, we call,
In vain, implore the murmuring sound
Of hollow groans, from underneath the ground;
Or court the loud laments, of some steep water's fall;
On things innaninate, [sic] wou'd force,
Some share of our divided greif,
Whilst Nature (unconcern'd for our relief)
Persues her settl'd path, her fixt, and steaddy course,
Leaving those ills, which Providence allows
To check our Pleasures, and contract our Brows, 30
Freely to act their uncontrouled part,
Within the center of the human breast;
There, every lighter folly, to molest,
And fill with anxious thoughts, the sad, awaken'd heart;
From whence alone proceed those gath'ring clouds
Which euery outward beauty shrouds;
From whence alone, those sad complaints ascend,
Which pittying Echo's seem to lend;
And when through weeping Eyes, the world we view,
The ancient Flood we to ourselues renew, 40
Then hasty ruine seizes all around;
All things to desolation tend,
All seems to dye, with a departed Friend,
The Earth unpeopl'd seems, and all again is drown'd,
But oh! in vain, things void of sence, we call,
In vain, implore the murmuring sound
Of hollow groans, from underneath the ground;
Or court the loud laments, of some steep water's fall;
On things innaninate, [sic] wou'd force,
Some share of our divided greif,
Whilst Nature (unconcern'd for our relief)
Persues her settl'd path, her fixt, and steaddy course,
Leaving those ills, which Providence allows
To check our Pleasures, and contract our Brows, 30
Freely to act their uncontrouled part,
Within the center of the human breast;
There, every lighter folly, to molest,
And fill with anxious thoughts, the sad, awaken'd heart;
From whence alone proceed those gath'ring clouds
Which euery outward beauty shrouds;
From whence alone, those sad complaints ascend,
Which pittying Echo's seem to lend;
And when through weeping Eyes, the world we view,
The ancient Flood we to ourselues renew, 40
Then hasty ruine seizes all around;
All things to desolation tend,
All seems to dye, with a departed Friend,
The Earth unpeopl'd seems, and all again is drown'd,
3
Such were our thoughts, so with each Mind it far'd,
When first th' unhappy news we heard,
When told alas! that Twisden was expir'd,
Such were our thoughts, so with each Mind it far'd,
When first th' unhappy news we heard,
When told alas! that Twisden was expir'd,