Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/254

116 THE POEMS OF ANNE �Which stands upon that rising Mountain's side, �And from our Plains this River do's divide, �He check'd me thus Be warn'd in time, My Son, �And that new World of painted Mischiefs shun, 30 �Whose gay Inhabitants thou shalt behold �Plum'd like our Birds, and sparkling all in Gold ; �Courtiers, that will thy rustick Garb despise, �And mock thy Plainness with disdainful Eyes. �But above all, that Structure see thou fly, �Where hoarded Vanities and Witchcrafts lie ; �To shun that Path be thy peculiar Care. �I ask, what of that Place the Dangers are : �To which he soon replies, there shalt thou meet �Of soft Enchantresses th' Enchantments sweet, 40 �Who subt'ly will thy solid Sense bereave, �And a false Gloss to ev'ry Object give. �Brass to thy Sight as polish'd Gold shall seem, �And Glass thou as the Diamond shalt esteem. �Huge Heaps of Silver to thee shall appear, �Which if approach'd, will prove but shining Air. �The very Walls by Magick Art are wrought, �And Repetition to all Speakers taught: �Not such, as from our Ecchoes we obtain, �Which only our last Words return again ; 50 �But Speech for Speech entirely there they give, �And often add, beyond what they receive. �There downy Couches to false Rest invite, �The Lawn is charm'd, that faintly bars the Light. �No gilded Seat, no iv'ry Board is there, �But what thou may'st for some Delusion fear: �Whilst, farther to abuse thy wond'ring Eyes, �Strange antick Shapes before them shall arise ; �Fantastick Fiends, that will about thee flock, �And all they see, with Imitation mock. 60 ��� �