Anne Kingsmill Finch
Anne Kingsmill Finch Poems
|81.||The Tradesman And The Scholar||1/1/2004|
|83.||The Unequal Fetters||1/3/2003|
|84.||The Wit And The Beau||1/1/2004|
|85.||The Young Rat And His Dam, The Cock And The Cat||1/1/2004|
|86.||There's No To-Morrow||4/16/2010|
|88.||To A Husband||1/3/2003|
|90.||To Edward Jenkinson, Esq||1/1/2004|
|91.||To Mr. F. Now Earl Of W||1/1/2004|
|93.||To The Nightingale||1/1/2004|
|94.||To The Painter Of An Ill-Drawn Picture Of Cleone||1/1/2004|
|95.||Trail All Your Pikes...||4/16/2010|
The Dog And His Master
NO better Dog e'er kept his Master's Door
Than honest Snarl, who spar'd nor Rich nor Poor;
But gave the Alarm, when any one drew nigh,
Nor let pretended Friends pass fearless by:
For which reprov'd, as better Fed than Taught,
He rightly thus expostulates the Fault.
To keep the House from Rascals was my Charge;
The Task was great, and the Commission large.
Nor did your Worship e'er declare your Mind,
That to the begging Crew it was confin'd;
Who shrink an Arm, or prop an able Knee,
Or turn up Eyes, till they're not seen, nor see.
To Thieves, ...
O King of Terrors, whose unbounded Sway
All that have Life, must certainly Obey;
The King, the Priest, the Prophet, all are Thine,
Nor wou'd ev'n God (in Flesh) thy Stroke decline.
My Name is on thy Roll, and sure I must
Encrease thy gloomy Kingdom in the Dust.
My soul at this no Apprehension feels,
But trembles at thy Swords, thy Racks, thy Wheels;
Thy scorching Fevers, which distract the Sense,