138 THE POEMS OF ANNE �Which faded Smiles no more can charm, But ev'ry Tear's a Winter-Storm, And ev'ry Look's a Frown. �Till with succeeding Ills opprest, �For Joys we hop'd to find; By Age too, rumpl'd and undrest, We gladly sinking down to rest, �Leave following Crouds behind. �A SIGH �Gentlest Air thou breath of Lovers �Vapour from a secret fire Which by thee itts self discovers �E're yett daring to aspire. �Softest Noat of whisper' d anguish �Harmony's refindest part Striking whilst thou seem'st to languish �Full upon the list'ners heart. �Safest Messenger of Passion �Stealing through a crou'd of spys �Which constrain the outward fassion Close the Lips and guard the Eyes. �Shapelesse Sigh we ne're can show thee Form'd bat to assault the Ear �Yett e're to their cost they know thee Ev'ry Nymph may read thee here. �C^SAR AND BRUTUS �Though Caesar falling, shew'd no sign of fear, Yett Brutus, when thou did'st appear, When thy false hand, against him came, ��� �
