Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/230

92 THE POEMS OF ANNE �( Encompass'd, as we think, with Armies round, Tho' not express'd within this narrow Bound) Who, whilst his warlike and extended Hand Directs the foremost Ranks to Charge or Stand, Reverts his Face, lest That, so Fair and Young, Should call in doubt the Orders of his Tongue : Whilst the excited, and embolden'd Rear Such Youth beholding, and such Features there, Devote their plainer Forms, and are asham'd to Fear. Thus! ev'ry Action, ev'ry Grace of thine, O latest Son of Fame, Son of Gustavus Line! Affects thy Troops, with all that can inspire A blooming Sweetness, and a martial Fire, Fatal to none, but thy invading Foe. So Lightnings, which to all their Brightness shew, Strike but the Man alone, who has provok'd the Blow. �THE CIRCUIT OF APPOLLO �Appollo as lately a Circuit he made, �Throo' the lands of the Muses when Kent he survey'd �And saw there that Poets were not very common, �But most that pretended to Verse, were the Women �Resolv'd to encourage, the few that he found, �And she that writt best, with a wreath shou'd be crown' d. �A summons sent out, was obey'd but by four, �When Phebus, afflicted, to meet with no more, �And standing, where sadly, he now might descry, �From the banks of the Stoure the desolate Wye, 10 �He lamented for Behn o're that place of her birth, �And said amongst Femens was not on the earth �Her superiour in fancy, in language, or witt, �Yett own'd that a little too loosly she writt; �Since the art of the Muse is to stirr up soft thoughts, �Yett to make all hearts beat, without blushes, or faults, ��� �