Her favourite Cecil to the roughest Play
Would call, and quarrel if she dar’d delay.
Yet she perversely from the Kindness fled,
And follow’d Cecil wheresoe’er he led;
Nor had the Garden or the Lawn a spot
Where they could venture and they ventur’d not. 720
Now from domestic Joy and Youthful Love
To woes domestic we awhile remove.
[Ere] the Good Man his fiftieth year had seen,
With those he number’d who had living been.