Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/434

296 THE POEMS OF ANNE �And I might hope a sutable return ; Shall I begin my lord, or ask your pardon For having thus presum'd, to seek an honour, Which you may think me too unworthy of. �Blan. No, I dare trust thee, �And if thy tale be love, mine shall be soe; 50 �Do thou begin, and then I will unfold Who won my heart, before I saw the Queen; Here we'll lye down, and on this bank of flow'rs Discourse of love, and all itt's pleasing powers. �[They sett down leaning agaynst y e bank. �Car. Keep off intruders, Fortune, for this moment, And all my life, shall be at thy dispose. [Aside. �Blan. Why doest thou pause, if love 'ere toutch'd thy �breast, �Begin, and tell the time, With ev'ry circumstance, that bred thy passion? �Car. The time, my lord, when I began to love, 60 �And yielded, to this Tyrant of my peace, Was that, which brought your last deceased Master With all his traine, of warlike knights to Rome, To clear himself, before the holy chair Of foul aspersions, cast upon his honour ; Sure you was there my Lord ; I think you was. Do. you remember nothing of that time ? �Blan. O! yes I doe, and if that was the season, Ther's something, sure, of Sympathy betwixt us. Go on, and make me know as well the place. 70 �Car. The place, oh! 'twas most fitt for the occasion, Secret, and blooming, with the verdant spring; A Grove of mirtles, compass'd itt about, Which gave no more admittance to the Sun Then serv'd to chear the new appearing flowers, And tell the birds, itt was their time to sing ��� �