Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/165

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That Pegasus, what e're they fancy'd
Had ne're for them one step aduanced
Yett if that she like Quaker tir'd
But a conveniency desir'd
There shou'd from neer a verdant bush
With foot cloath matt and seat of rush
Be drawn a rev'rend grave Machine
As slow as if for Spanish Queen
As safe as Litter gently led 80
With Lady sleeping in her bed
And tho' the form some might dispise
Who view'd itt but with outward Eyes
Yett Quixotts Brancart till he built itt
A Velvett roof and richly gilt itt
With Fancy's Pencil was not braver
And with th'invention which he gave her
She might convert wou'd she not spare itt
This Roulo to tryumphant Charret
Turn wood to steel and ropes to Leather90
And forehead bough to Ostritch Feather
Since all was as opinion made itt
Not as the Artists hand ore-laid itt.
This said, he mixt with shining Day
And left her to persue the way
Exalted high to all beholders
As Burgesse on ellecting shoulders
On totterring chair in Tumbrill's middle
And wanting but fore-running Fiddle
To guide the wond'ring Rabble right 100
And pick their Purses for the sight.