134 THE POEMS OF ANNE �MORAL SONG �Would we attain the happiest State, �That is design'd us here; No Joy a Rapture must create, �No Grief beget Despair. No Injury fierce Anger raise, �No Honour tempt to Pride; No vain Desires of empty Praise �Must in the Soul abide. No Charms of Youth, or Beauty move �The constant, settl'd Breast: Who leaves a Passage free to Love, �Shall let in, all the rest. In such a Heart soft Peace will live, �Where none of these abound; The greatest Blessing, Heav'n do's give, �Or can on Earth be found. �HONOUR A Song �How dear is Reputation bought ! �When we the purchace pay We sett the sweets of Life at nought �And make our Joys away. �One most belou'd we often loose �To pacify the crou'd And even Complisance refuse �Not to be Chast but proud. �Though Honour which the World does awe �And makes our Sex so nice Its self no Pedigree can draw �But what's deriv'd from Vice. ��� �
Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/272
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