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To-night a trembling Juliet fills the Scene, Fearful as young, and really not Eighteen; Cold Icy Fear, like an untimely frost, Lies on her mind, and all her powers are loft. 'Tis your's alone to disipate her fears, To calm her troubled foul, and dry her tears. Bit with the cank’ring East, the infant rose Its full-blown honours never can disclose : Oh, may no envious Blast, no Critick Blight, Fall on the Tender Plant we rear to-night! So thall it thrive, and in some genial hour, The opening Bud may prove a beauteous Flower,
TO THE COMEDY OF THE SISTER,
Written by Mrs. LENOX,
HE Law of Custom is the Law of Foals
And yet the wise are govern’d by her rules.
Boast not your gallant deeds, romantick men!
183 Ye that in this Enchanted Castle fit, Dames, 'Squires, and dark Magicians of the Pit, Smile on our fair Knight Errantry to-day, And raise no spells to blast a Female Play!
Oft has our Author, upon other ground,
Plac'd at the threshold of the Weather-house, There stands a Pasteboard Husband, and his Spouse, Each doom'd to mark the changes of the Weather, But still-true Man and Wife! ne'er seen together, When low'ring clouds the face of Heav'n deform, The muffled Husband stands and braves the storm; But when the fury of the tempest's done, Break out at once the Lady and the Sun. Thus oft has Man, in Custom's beaten track, Come forth, as doleful Prologue, all in black! Gloomy Prognostick of the Bard's disgrace, With omens of foul weather in his face, VOL. III.
Trick'd out in filks and smiles let me appear, And fix, as sign of peace, the Rainbow here; Raise your compassion and your mirth together, And prove to-day an emblem of fair weather !
PROLOGUE TO THE ROMAN FATHER,
Atted at the Theatre at Bristol, on Friday, July 14, 1769.
For the Family of the late Mr. POWILL.
Spoken by Mr. HOLLAND.
HEN fancied sorrows wake the Player's art,
A short-liv'd anguish seizes on the heart :
Where'er I tread, where'er I turn my eyes, Of my loft Friend new images arise. Can I forget, that from our earliest age, His talents known, I led him to the Stage ? Can I forget, this circle in my view, His first great pride to be approv'd by You? His soul, with ev'ry 'tender feeling bleft, The holy Aame of gratitude possest. Soft as the stream yon sacred springs impart, The milk of human. kindness warm'd his heart. Peace, Peace be with him! may the present Stage Contend, like him, your favour to engage ! May we, like him, deferve your kindness shown, Like him, with gratitude that kindness own! So fhall our art pursue the noblest plan, And each good Actor prove an Honest Man.