266 THE POEMS OF ANNE �My heart, thy charge, securely keep. �Love, who a stranger is to me, �Must by thy wings be kin to thee; �So painted o're, so seeming fair, �So soft, his first adresses are, �Thy guard, he n'er can passe, unseen; �Thou, surely thou hast often been, �Whilst yett a wand'rer in the grove, �A false accomplice, with this Love ; 30 �In the same shade, hast thou not sate, �And seen him work some wretches fate? �Hast thou not sooth'd him in the wrong; �And grac'd the mischeif, with a song, �Tuning thy loud conspiring voyce, �O're falling lovers, to rejoyce ? �If so, thy wicked faults redeem, �In league with me, no truce with him �Do thou admitt, but warn my heart, �And all his sly designs impart, 40 �Least to that breast, by craft he gett, �Which has defy'd and brav'd him yett. �THE TREE �Fair Tree! for thy delightful Shade �'Tis just that some Return be made; �Sure, some Return is due from me �To thy cool Shadows, and to thee. �When thou to Birds do'st Shelter give, �Thou Musick do'st from them receive ; �If Travellers beneath thee stay, �Till Storms have worn themselves away, �That Time in praising thee they spend, �And thy protecting Pow'r commend: 10 ��� �
