Chapters 8
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1 01 - The Apology - Read by AV 1:13
The Apology by Anne Finch. Tis true, I write, and tell me by what rule I am alone forbid to play the fool, to follow through the groves a wandering muse, and faint ideas for my pleasures choose. Why should it in my pen be held a fault, whilst Myra paints her face to paint a thought, whilst Lamia to the manly bumper flies, and borrowed spirits sparkle in her eyes? Why should it be in me a thing so vain to heat with poetry my colder brain? But I write ill, and therefore should forbear. Does Flavia cease now at her fortieth year, and e'er place to let that face be seen which all the town rejected at fifteen? Each woman has her weakness. Mine, indeed, is still to write, though hopeless to succeed.
Nor to the men is this so easy found. And in most works with which the wits abound, so weak are we all since our first breach with heaven, there's less to be applauded than forgiven.
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2 02 - The Apology - Read by DL 1:23
The Apology by Anne Finch. Tis true, I write, and tell me by what rule I am alone forbid to play the fool, to follow through the groves a wandering muse, and feigned ideas for my pleasures choose. Why should it in my pen be held a fault, whilst Myra paints her face to paint a thought, whilst Lamia To the manly bumper-flies, and borrowed spirits sparkle in her eyes. Why should it be in me a thing so vain to heat with poetry my colder brain? But I write ill, and therefore should forbear. Does Flavius cease now at her fortieth year in every place to let that face be seen, which all the town rejected at fifteen? Each woman has her weakness. Mine, indeed, is still to write, though hopeless to succeed.
Nor to the men is this so easy found, even in most works with which the wits abound. So weak are all since our first breach with heaven. There is less to be applauded than forgiven.
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3 03 - The Apology - Read by JBS 1:26
The Apology by Anne Finch. Tis true I write and tell me by what rule I am alone forbid to play the fool. To follow through the groves a wandering muse, and feigned ideas for my pleasure's choose. Why should it in my pen be held a fault, whilst Mira paints her face to paint a thought? Osslemia to the manly bumper flies, and borrows spirit sparkle in her eyes. Why should it be in me a thing so vain to heat with poetry my colder brain? But I write ill, and therefore should forbear. Does Flavia cease, now at her fortieth year, in every place to let that face be seen which all the town rejected at fifteen? Each woman has her weakness. Mine, indeed, is still to write, though hopeless to succeed. Nor to the men is this so easy found, even in most works with which the wits abound.
So weak are all since our first breach with heaven. There's less to be applauded than forgiven.
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4 04 - The Apology - Read by LAH 1:28
THE APOLOGY by Anne Finch. Read for LibriVox.org by Leanne Howlett.
Tis true I write and tell me by what rule I am alone forbid to play the fool, to follow through the groves a wandering muse, and feigned ideas for my pleasure's chews. Why should it in my pen be held a fault whilst Mira paints her face to paint a thought? Whilst Lamia to the manly bumper flies and borrowed spirits sparkle in her eyes, why should it be in me a thing so vain to heat with poetry my colder brain? But I write ill, and therefore should forbear. Does Flavia cease now at her fortieth year, in every place to let that face be seen, which all the town rejected at fifteen? Each woman has her weakness. Mine, indeed, is still to write, though hopeless to succeed. Nor to the men is this so easy found.
Even in most works with which the wits abound, so weak are all since our first breach with heaven, there's less to be applauded than forgiven.
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5 05 - The Apology - Read by LLW 1:42
The Apology by Anne Finch.
Tis true, I write, and tell me by what rule I am alone forbid to play the fool, to follow through the groves a wandering muse, and feigned ideas for my pleasures choose. Why should it in my pen be held a fault? Whilst Mira paints her face to paint a thought, whilst Lamia to the manly bumper flies, and borrowed spirits sparkle in her eyes, why should it be in me a thing so vain to heat with poetry my colder brain? But I write ill, and therefore should forbear. Does Flavia cease now at her fortieth year, in every place to let that face be seen, which all the town rejected at fifteen? Each woman has her weakness. Mine, indeed, is still too right, though hopeless to succeed. Nor to the men is this so easy found, even in most works with which the wits abound.
So weak are all since our first breach with heaven. There's less to be applauded than forgiven.
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6 06 - The Apology - Read by MF 1:32
The Apology by Anne Finch. Read for LibriVox.org by Malcolm Fisher, Dover, England. The Apology. Tis true I write, and tell me by what rule I am alone forbid to play the fool. To follow through the groves a wandering muse, and fainted ideas for my pleasures choose. Why should it in my pen be held a fault? Whilst Mara paints her face to paint a thought. Whilst Lamia to the manly bumper flies, and borrowed spirit sparkle in her eyes. Why should it be in me a thing so vain, to heat with poetry my colder brain? But I write ill, and therefore should forbear. Does Flavia cease now at her fortieth year, in every place to let that face be seen, which all the town rejected at fifteen? Each woman has her weakness.
Mine, indeed, is to write, though hopeless, to succeed. Nor to the men is this so easy found. Even in most works with which the wits abound, so weak are all since our first breach with heaven. There's less to be applauded than forgiven.
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7 07 - The Apology - Read by RN 1:43
The Apology by Anne Finch. Read for LibriVox.org by Reverend Notation. 2014 Reverend Notation. Wordpress.com. Tis true I write and tell me by what rule I am alone forbid to play the fool, To follow through the groves of wandering mews, And feigned ideas for my pleasures choose. Why should it in my pen be held a fault, whilst Mira paints her face, to paint a thought? Whilst Lamia to the manly bumper flies, and borrowed spirits sparkle in her eyes? Why should it be in me a thing so vain, to heat with poetry my colder brain? But I write ill, and therefore should forbear. Does Flavia cease now at her fortieth year, in every place, to let that face be seen, which all the town rejected at fifteen? Each woman has her weakness.
Mine, indeed, is still to write, though hopeless to succeed. Nor to the men is this so easy found, even in most works with which the wits abound. So weak are all since our first breach with heaven. There's less to be applauded than forgiven.
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8 08 - The Apology - Read by SEC 1:34
The Apology by Anne Finch.
May 29th, 2014, Shanghai, China. Tis true I write and tell me by what rule I am alone forbid to play the fool, to follow through the groves a wandering muse, and feigned ideas for my pleasure's choose. Why should it in my pen be held a fault, Whilst Mira paints her face to paint a thought, whilst Lamia to the manly bumper flies, and borrowed spirits sparkle in her eyes. Why should it be in me a thing so vain to heat with poetry my colder brain? But I write ill, and therefore should forbear. Does Flavia cease now at her fortieth year, in every place to let that face be seen? Which all the town rejected at fifteen. Each woman has her weakness. Mine, indeed, is still to write, though hopeless to succeed.
Nor to the men is this so easy found, Even in most works with which the wits abound. So weak are all since our first breach with heaven. There's less to be applauded than forgiven.