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Anne Kingsmill Finch - On Myselfe
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Good Heav`n, I thank thee, since it was design`d
I shou`d be fram`d, but of the weaker kinde,
That yet, my Soul, is rescu`d from the Love
Of all those Trifles, which their Passions move.
Pleasures, and Praise, and Plenty haue with me 
But their just value. If allow`d they be,
Freely, and thankfully as much I tast,
As will not reason, or Religion wast.
If they`re deny`d, I on my selfe can Liue,
And slight those aids, unequal chance does give.
When in the Sun, my wings can be display`d,
And in retirement, I can bless the shade.
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