Lady Winchilsea, Anne Finch poetry and my praise.


 The nymph in vain bestows her pains
That seeks to thrive where Bacchus reigns;
In vain are charms, or smiles, or frowns,
All images his torrent drowns.

Flames to the head he may impart,
But makes an island of the heart,
So inaccessible and cold,
That to be his is to be old
Anne Finch

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 dost shelter give,
Thou music dost 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.
The shepherd here, from scorching freed,
Tunes to thy dancing leaves his reed;
Whilst his lov’d nymph, in thanks, bestows
Her flow’ry chaplets on thy boughs.
Shall I then only silent be,
And no return be made by me?
No; let this wish upon thee wait,
And still to flourish be thy fate.
To future ages may’st thou stand
Untouch’d by the rash workman’s hand,
Till that large stock of sap is spent,
Which gives thy summer’s ornament;
Till the fierce winds, that vainly strive
To shock thy greatness whilst alive,
Shall on thy lifeless hour attend,
Prevent the axe, and grace thy end;
Their scatter’d strength together call
And to the clouds proclaim thy fall;
Who then their ev’ning dews may spare
When thou no longer art their care,
But shalt, like ancient heroes, burn,
And some bright hearth be made thy urn.

Anne Finch- Lady Winchilsea

Lady Winchilsea- Anne Finch….

Exquisite lady, poet, talented lady. Please bless me with your words. Mystic beauty, allow me to get drunk on your words.
Your charm still  unshaken by time. Your lofty and wise mind who gentle rhyme made my heart flutter and wish today still.

Lady Winchilsea, your noble and brave heart made the temptation of love and of life. Sweet and tempting.
Today the lake St. Clair poet want to get drunk on kisses, find a intoxication love. He want a Lady Winchilsea to bewitch his heart.

I know, men are just mortals, they will masquerade as giants. Men will toil and toil till he cannot work no-more. He will learn too late. What is true and what is not.

He will remember the sweet and kind nymphs who made him smile, he will remember the lady by the sea with the Pacific in her eyes. He will fondly remember love and understand.
We need the fragrance of love around us. A great life  had tasted the kisses of love, been in the shade of love embrace. We will forget everything except the smile of our love.

Lady Winchilsea, where are these? I need one more dance, one more smile and one more kiss. I need the blessing and the honor of love caress. I need the softness of you.

John Castellenas