A Song by Anne Kingsmill Finch

Persuade me not, there is a Grace
Proceeds from Silvia's Voice or Lute,
Against Miranda's charming Face
To make her hold the least Dispute.
Musick, which tunes the Soul for Love,
And stirs up all our soft Desires,
Do's but the glowing Flame improve,
Which pow'rful Beauty first inspires.

Thus, whilst with Art she plays, and sings
I to Miranda, standing by,
Impute the Music of the Strings,
And all the melting Words apply

by Anne Kingsmill Finch

Other poems by 'Anne Kingsmill Finch'

A Pastoral Dialogue Between Two Shepherdesses

A Tale of the Miser and the Poet

Adam Pos'd

Alcidor

An Apology for my fearfull temper

An EPISTLE From A Gentleman To Madam Deshouliers

An EPISTLE from Alexander to Hephaestion In His Sickness

An Invitation to Dafnis

Ardelia to Melancholy

Consolation

Search Poems
e.g. love, marriage, kids

Popular poems this week

In Silence We Left

The Lost Dances of Cranes

The Author to her Book

Summer Evening

The Lesson

A chilly Peace infests the Grass

You Fit Into Me

To Mæcenas

mr youse needn't be so spry..

Oh, honey of an hour