Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/189

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Countess of Winchilsea
51
To Vessels blown exceed the gloomy Bowl,Which did the Wine's full excellence controul,These shew the Body, whilst you taste the Soul.Its colour sparkles Motion, lets thee see,Tho' yet th' Excess the Preacher warns to flee,Lest Men at length as clearly soy through Thee.

THE BIRD AND THE ARRAS

By neer resemblance see that Bird betray'dWho takes the well wrought Arras for a shadeThere hopes to pearch and with a chearfull TuneO're-passe the scortchings of the sultry Noon.But soon repuls'd by the obdurate sceanHow swift she turns but turns alas in vainThat piece a Grove, this shews an ambient skyWhere immitated Fowl their pinnions plySeeming to mount in flight and aiming still more high.All she outstrip's and with a moments prideTheir understation silent does derideTill the dash'd Cealing strikes her to the groundNo intercepting shrub to break the fall is foundRecovering breath the window next she gainesNor fears a stop from the transparent Panes.
········But we degresse and leaue th' imprison'd wretchNow sinking low now on a loftyer stretchFlutt'ring in endlesse cercles of dismayTill some kind hand directs the certain wayWhich through the casement an escape affoardsAnd leads to ample space the only Heav'n of Birds.
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