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Tixall Poetry.
Let me correct my wish, your griefs forbeare;
Your numerous joys I might have added here.
Yet may you have your all sum'd up in one,
And find the highest is to covet none.
Your numerous joys I might have added here.
Yet may you have your all sum'd up in one,
And find the highest is to covet none.
To My Most Honord Cosen,
Mrs Somerset,
on the Unjust Censure Past upon My Poore Marcelia.
Sigh not, Parthenia, that I'me doom'd to dye,
Since a false scandal's made the reason why.
Fortune I ever found my rigid foe,
And did not hope she now would milder grow.
A small weake barke by a rough tempest tost,
Can raise noe wonder when we heare 'tis lost;
When powerfull enemys resolve to kill,
They heed not justice, strength can do their will;
Ruled by self interest their foes confine,
And word their judgments to their owne designe.
Since a false scandal's made the reason why.
Fortune I ever found my rigid foe,
And did not hope she now would milder grow.
A small weake barke by a rough tempest tost,
Can raise noe wonder when we heare 'tis lost;
When powerfull enemys resolve to kill,
They heed not justice, strength can do their will;
Ruled by self interest their foes confine,
And word their judgments to their owne designe.
