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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455520" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To A Lady, Who Invited The Author Into The Country.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">How gladly, Madam, would I go,<br>To see your Gardens, and Chateau;<br>From thence the fine Improvements view,<br>Or walk your verdant Avenue;<br>Delighted, hear the Thrushes sing,<br>Or listen to some bubbling Spring;<br>If Fate had giv'n me Leave to roam!<br>But Citizens must stay at Home.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We're lonesome since you went away,<br>And should be dead--but for our Tea;<br>That Helicon of female Wits,<br>Which fills their Heads with rhyming Fits!<br>This Liquor seldom heats the Brain,<br>But turns it oft, and makes us vain;<br>With Fumes supplies Imagination,<br>Which we mistake for Inspiration.<br>This makes us cramp our Sense in Fetters,<br>And teaze our Friends with chiming Letters.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I grieve your Brother has the Gout;<br>Tho' he's so stoically stout,<br>I've heard him mourn his Loss of Pain,<br>And wish it in his Feet again.<br>What Woe poor Mortals must endure,<br>When Anguish is their only Cure!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">STREPHON is ill; and I perceive<br>His lov'd Elvira grows so grave,<br>I fear, like Niobe, her Moan<br>Will turn herself and me to Stone.<br>Have I not cause to dread this Fate,<br>Who scarce so much as smile of late?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whilst lovely Landscapes you survey,<br>And peaceful pass your Hours away,<br>Refresh'd with various blooming Sweets;<br>I'm sick of Smells and dirty Streets,<br>Stiflcd with Smoke, and stunn'd with Noise<br>Of ev'ry Thing--but my own Boys;<br>Thro' Rounds of plodding doom'd to run,<br>And very seldom see the Sun:<br>Yet sometimes pow'rful Fancy reigns,<br>And glads my Eyes with sylvan Scenes;<br>Where Time, enamour'd, slacks his Pace,<br>Enchanted by the warbling Race;<br>And, in Atonement for his Stay,<br>Thro' Cities hurries on the Day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O! would kind Heav'n reverse my Fate,<br>Give me to quit a Life I hate,<br>To flow'ry Fields I soon would fly:<br>Let others stay--to cheat and lye.<br>There, in fome blissful Solitude,<br>Where eating Care should ne'er intrude,<br>The Muse should do the Country Right,<br>And paint the glorious Scenes you slight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Barber">Mary Barber</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455520" data-title="To A Lady, Who Invited The Author Into The Country. de Mary Barber" data-description="How gladly, Madam, would I go,
To see your Gardens, and Chateau;
From thence the fine Improvements view,
Or walk your verdant Avenue;
Delighted, hear the Thrushes sing,
Or listen to some bubbling Spring;
If Fate had giv'n me Leave to roam!
But Cit..."></div>
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