152 THE POEMS OF ANNE �A patient Martyr to their Scorn, �And each ill-fashion'd Jest; The Youth, who but for Love was born, Remain'd, and thought it vast Return, �To reign in Gloria's Breast. �But oh! a ruffling Soldier came �In all the Pomp of War: The Gazettes long had spoke his Fame; Now Hautboys his Approach proclaim, �And draw in Crouds from far. 20 �Cloria unhappily wou'd gaze; �And as he nearer drew, The Man of Feather and of Lace Stopp'd short, and with profound Amaze �Took all her Charms to view. �A Bow, which from Campaigns he brought, �And to his Holsters low, Herself, and the Spectators taught, That Her the fairest Nymph he thought, �Of all that form'd the Row. 80 �Next day, ere Phoebus cou'd be seen, �Or any Gate unbarr'd; At hers, upon th' adjoining Green, From Ranks, with waving Flags between, �Were soften'd Trumpets heard. �The Noon do's following Treats provide, �In the Pavilion's Shade; The Neighbourhood, and all beside, That will attend the amorous Pride, �Are welcom'd with the Maid. 40 ��� �
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