Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/363

COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA 225 �Who, seals thy forehead, when the Plague is nigh, Ere the destroying Angel can descend ? �Who, guides th' avenging shafts, that o're thee fly? When thou didst yett upon the breast depend, Who was thy Father then, and who was then thy freind? 50 �Who gave his blood, when thine could not suffice To pay thy debt, who for thee sigh'd and wept, �And bought that Glory, att a wondrous price, Which is to future Ages for thee kept, Unlesse thou chuse this world, and that to come, neglect ? �Who leads thee throo' this Vale of tears below, To bring thee to thy Country, safe att last? �Who in the way, does all thou want'st below, For more than this, his sacred word n'ere passt, And all thou truly want'st, assuredly thou hast? 60 �What if to prove thee, when the billows rise, �He from thy danger turns, and seems to sleep, Wilt thou to murmures, strait convert thy crys, The crowd we see, the shoar may safely keep, Whilst the distinguish'd twelve are threatn'd by the deep? �Ardelia �Teresa, from my guilty dream, I wake, �The truth has reach' d me, and my fault I find, �Forgive me God, forgive the short mistake, How cou'd itt enter my deluded mind, �That all, both Worlds cou'd give, was for one Wretch design'd? 70 �I saw the Mighty, and began to slide, My feet were gone, but I return again, ��� �