Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/394

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page needs to be proofread.


256 THE POEMS OF ANNE �Nor had that awful Fabrick bow'd, Sliding from its loosen'd Bands; Nor yielding Timbers been allow'd To crush thy ever-lifted Hands, �Or interrupt thy Pray'r. Those Orizons, that nightly Watches keep, Had call'd thee from thy Bed, or there secur'd thy Sleep. Whilst you, bold Winds and Storms! his Word obey'd, Whilst you his Scourge the Great Jehova made, 110 And into ruin'd Heaps our Edifices laid. �You South and West the Tragedy began, As, with disorder'd haste, you o'er the Surface ran; �Forgetting, that you were design'd (Chiefly thou Zephyrus, thou softest Wind !) Only our Heats, when sultry, to allay, And chase the od'rous Gums by your dispersing Play. Now, by new Orders and Decrees, For our Chastisement issu'd forth, You on his Confines the alarmed North 120 �With equal Fury sees, And summons swiftly to his Aid Eurus, his Confederate made, His eager Second in th'opposing Fight, That even the Winds may keep the Balance right, Nor yield increase of Sway to arbitrary Might. Meeting now, they all contend, Those assail, while These defend; Fierce and turbulent the War, �And in the loud tumultuous Jar 130 �Winds their own Fifes, and Clarions are. Each Cavity, which Art or Nature leaves, Their Inspiration hastily receives; �Whence, from their various Forms and Size, As various Symphonies arise, ��� �