Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea

Free as Nature’s first intention Was to make us, I’ll be found, Nor by subtle Man’s invention Yeild to be in Fetters bound By one that walks a freer round.Mariage does but slightly tye Men Whil’st close Pris’ners we remain,

Love, thou art best of Human Joys, Our chiefest Happiness below; All other Pleasures are but Toys, Musick without Thee is but Noise, And Beauty but an empty show.Heav’n, who knew best what Man wou’d move, And raise his Thoughts above the …

The King, the Priest, the Prophet, all are Thine, Nor wou’d ev’n God (in Flesh) thy Stroke decline.

How are we fal’n, fal’n by mistaken rules, And Education’s more than Nature’s fools.

They tell us we mistake our sex and way; Good breeding, fassion, dancing, dressing, play Are the accomplishments we shou’d desire; To write, or read, or think, or to enquire Wou’d cloud our beauty and exaust our time, And interrupt the …

Alas! a woman that attempts the pen, Such an intruder on the rights of men, Such a presumptuous Creature, is esteem’d, The fault, can by no vertue be redeem’d.

Did I my lines intend for publick view, How many censures wou’d their faults persue; ... True judges might condemn their want of witt, And all might say, they’re by a Woman writt.

Judge not my passion by my want of skill: Many love well, though they express it ill; And I your censure cou’d with pleasure bear, Wou’d you but soon returne, and speake it here.

This to the crown and blessing of my life, The much lov’d husband of a happy wife; To him whose constant passion found the art To win a stubborn and ungratefull heart, And to the world by tend’rest proof discovers, They err, who say that …