Being Retired, Complains Against the Court

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 death,
With Falshood 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.