Anne Kingsmill Finch

(April 1661 - 5 August 1720 / Sydmonton, Hampshire)

Fragment At Tunbridge-Wells - Poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch

FOR He, that made, must new create us,
Ere Seneca, or Epictetus,
With all their serious Admonitions,
Can, for the Spleen, prove good Physicians.
The Heart's unruly Palpitation
Will not be laid by a Quotation;
Nor will the Spirits move the lighter
For the most celebrated Writer.
Sweats, Swoonings, and convulsive Motions
Will not be cur'd by Words, and Notions.

Then live, old Brown! with thy Chalybeats,
Which keep us from becoming Idiots.
At Tunbridge let us still be Drinking,
Though 'tis the Antipodes to Thinking:
Such Hurry, whilst the Spirit's flying,
Such Stupefaction, when 'tis dying;
Yet these, and not sententious Papers,
Must brighten Life, and cure the Vapours


Comments about Fragment At Tunbridge-Wells by Anne Kingsmill Finch

  • Rookie dissatified exmember (2/2/2005 2:02:00 PM)

    Anne was every bit the type of woman I would admire.. Again if she was alive today, she would be one of my favourite poets. (Report) Reply

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  • Rookie dissatified exmember (2/2/2005 1:56:00 PM)

    You obviously enjoy the old style. Again a clever piece. Very enjoyable. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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