COUNTESS OP WINCHILSEA 93 �But now to proceed, and their merritts to know, �Before he on any, the Bay's wou'd bestow, �He order'd them each in their several way, �To show him their papers, to sing, or to say, 20 �What 'ere they thought best, their pretention's might �prove, �When Alinda, began, with a song upon Love. So easy the Verse, yett compos'd with such art, That not one expression fell short of the heart ; Apollo himself, did their influence obey, He catch' d up his Lyre, and a part he wou'd play, Declaring, no harmony else, cou'd be found, Fitt to wait upon words, of so moving a sound. The Wreath, he reach'd out, to have plac'd on her head, If Laura not quickly a paper had read, 30 �Wherin She Orinda has praised so high, He own'd itt had reach'd him, while yett in the sky, That he thought with himself, when itt first struck his �ear, �Who e're cou'd write that, ought the Laurel to wear. Betwixt them he stood, in a musing suspence, Till Valeria withdrew him a little from thence, And told him, as soon as she'd gott him aside, Her works, by no other, but him shou'd be try'd; Which so often he read, and with still new delight, That Judgment t'was thought wou'd not passe till twas �'night; 40 �Yet at length, he restor'd them, but told her withall If she kept itt still close, he'd the Talent recall. Ardelia, came last as expecting least praise, Who writt for her pleasure and not for the Bays, But yett, as occasion, or fancy should sway, Wou'd sometimes endeavour to passe a dull day, In composing a song, or a Scene of a Play ��� �
