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Anne Finch ( Kingsmill) Winchilsea
1661-1720
(Àííà Ôèí÷)


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Êíèãà-ïî÷òîé


Åñëè á ìîæíî áûëî âûíóòü

Could we stop the time that’s flying
Or recall it when ‘tis past,
Put far off the day of dying
Or make youth for ever last,
To love would then be worth our cost.

But since we must lose those graces
Which at first your hearts have won
And you seek for in new faces
When our spring of life is done,
It would but urge our ruin on.

Free as nature’s first intention
Was to make us, I’ll be found,
Nor by subtle Man’s invention
Yield to be in fetters bound
But one that walks a freer round.

Marriage does but slightly tie men
Whilst close prisoners we remain,
They the larger slaves of Hymen
Still are begging love again
At the full length of all their chain.


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