REMOTE from Court, where after toil we get More hopes than fruit, I now have chang'd my seat, And here retir'd with calmer thoughts abide: As Lea more smooth than troubled Thames does glide. I need not great men here with flatt'ry please, No pride nor envy shall disturb my ease; If Love ensnares my heart, I from its net, Or servile chain at least, my freedom get. Since my new flame brake out, my old is dead, With falsehood kindled, and with scorn 'twas fed; And here the greatest rigour pleases more Than all dissembled favours could before. There Love's all counterfeit, and friendship too, And nothing else but hate and malice true: If here my Nymph be cross, or prove unkind, Vanquish'd, I triumph; fighting, Peace I find. |