3 Forth issued from their dismal dark abodes The birds attendant upon hideous night, Shriek-owls and ravens, whose fell croaking bodes Approaching death to miserable wight: Did never mind of man behold sike dreadful sight? Apollo wails his darling done to die By foul attempt of Envy's fatal bane; The Muses sprinkle him with dew of Castaly, And crown his death with many a living strain; Hoary Parnassus beats his aged breast, Aged, yet, ne'er before did sorrow know; The flowers drooping their despair attest, Th' aggrieved rivers querulously flow; All nature sudden groan'd with sympathetic woe. But, lo! the sky a gayer livery wears, The melting clouds begin to fade apace, And now the cloak of darkness disappears, (May darkness ever thus to light give place!) Erst griev'd Apollo jocund looks resumes, The Nine renew their whilom cheerful song, No grief Parnassus' aged breast consumes, For from the teeming earth new flowers sprong, The plenteous rivers flow'd full peacefully along. The stricken bard fresh vital heat renews, Whose blood, erst stagnant, rushes through bis veins; Life through each p ́re her spirit doth infuse, And Fame by Malice unextinguish'd reigns: And see, a form breaks forth, all heav'nly bright, Upheld by one of mortal progeny, A female form, yclad in snowy-white, Ne half so fair at distance seen as nigh; Douglas and Truth appear, Envy and Lauder die. PROLOGUE TO THE JEALOUS WIFE. THE Jealous Wife! a comedy! poor man! VOL. XV. INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN SPOKEN AT DRURY. GENIUS, neglected, mourns his wither'd bays; Be happy, Britain, then-such times are thine. PROLOGUE TO HECUBA. Kind social chorus, which all humours meets, -Oh! might true taste, in these unclassic days, Revive the Grecian fashions with their plays! Then, rais'd on stilts, our players would stalk and age, And, at three steps, stride o'er a modern stage; H Each gesture then would boast unusual charms, O! glorious times, when actors thus could strike, Less change of face than in our Punch they saw, For Punch can roll his eyes, and wag his jaw; With one set glare they mouth'd the rumbling verse; Our Gog and Magog look not half so fierce! Yet, though depriv'd of instruments like these, Nature, perhaps, may find a way to please; Which, wheresoe'er she glows with genuine flame, In Greece, in Rome, in England, is the same. Of raillery then, ye modern wits, beware, Nor damn the Grecian poet for the player. Theirs was the skill, with honest help of art, To win, by just degree, the yielding heart. What if our Shakspeare claims the magic throne, And in one instant makes us all his own; They differ only in one point of view, For Shakspeare's nature, was their nature too. Of patriots, active in their country's cause, Oh Memory! how thou lov'st to stray, Of childhood's greener years! when simple youth 'Twas here, in many an early strain When Busby's skill, and judgment sage, Nor, Cowley, be thy Muse forgot! which strays In wit's ambiguous flowery maze, With many a pointed turn and studied art: Though affectation blot thy rhyme, Thy mind was lofty and sublime, And manly honour dignified thy heart: Though fond of wit, yet firm to virtue's plan, The poet's trifles ne'er disgrac'd the man. Well might thy morals sweet engage Th' attention of the mitred sage, Smit with the plain simplicity of truth. For not ambition's giddy strife, The gilded toys of public life, Which snare the gay unstable youth, Could lure thee from the sober charms, Which lapt thee in Retirement's arms, Whence thou, untainted with the pride of state, Could'st smile with pity on the bustling great. Such were Eliza's sons. Her fost'ring care Here bade free genius tune his grateful song, Which else had wasted in the desert air, Or droop'd unnotic'd 'mid the vulgar throng. But with the poet's phrensy bold, Pluck the green laurel from the hand of Fame! THE TEARS AND TRIUMPH OF PAR NASSUS: AN ODE. SET TO MUSIC, AND PERFORMED AT DRURY-LANE, 1760. The scene discovers Apollo and the Nine Muses in their proper habits. APOLLO. FATE gave the word; the deed is done; His great career of fame is run, [The Muses tear off their laurels. CALLIOPE. Well, sisters of the sacred spring, CHORUS. Fate gave the word, &c. CLIO, Founded in justice was his sway; Ambition never mark'd his way. CALLIOPE. Unless the best ambition that can fire Yes, virgins, yes; that wish sublime Who for a people's welfare strove; Drink nectar with Olympian Jove. CALLIOPE. Oh Truth! fair daughter of the sky, Near the Omnipotent do'st stand; And, when mankind provoke his rage, Do'st clasp his knees, his wrath assuage, And win the thunder from his hand! See! where Britannia stands On yonder sea-beat shore! Majestic now no more! Still on the sullen wave her eye is bent, And," Cruel gods!" she cries; And "Cruel gods!" replies. CALLIOPE. See! the procession sad and slow, Now quietly inurn'd he lies, Of him who sought th' ambitious Gaul Who felt, who liv'd, and reign'd for all, BOTH. Will by the hero now be done CHORUS. His great career of fame is run, And all the loss deplore. Enter MARS. Lo! Mars, from his beloved land, And again the laurel wear: For see! Britannia rears her drooping head; Proclaims the people's choice. I see Bellona banish'd far! I see him close the gates of War. And rolling his terrific eyes, Where round him heaps of arms arise, Bound with a hundred brazen chains, Make the most of proffer'd joy, Pleasure hates the scanty rules Portion'd out by dreaming fools. CHORUS. Shepherds, buxom, blithe and free, Now's the time for jollity. [A dance of shepherds, &c. SYLVIA. RECITATIVE. Rejoice, ye happy swains, rejoice; It is the heart that prompts the voice. Be sorrow banish'd far away; Thyrsis shall make it holiday. Who at his name can joy suppress? Arcadian-born to rule and bless. DAMON. And hark! from rock to rock the sound Of winding horn, and deep-mouth'd hound, Breaking with rapture on the ear, Proclaims the blithesome Phoebe near: See where she hastes with eager pace, In vain shall foam, and thirst for sanguine plains. To speak the joys that paint her face. SCENE 11. Opens to a prospect of rocks. Huntsmen, huntresses, &c. coming down from them. PHOEBE. Hither I speed with honest glee, Such as befits the mind that's free; AIR. When the Morning peeps forth, and the Zephyr's cool-gale, [dale; Carries fragrance and health over mountain and Up, ye nymphs, and ye swains, and together we'll rove, Up hill, down the valley, by thicket or grove: Then follow with me, where the welkin resounds With the notes of the horns, and the cry of the hounds. Let the wretched be slaves to ambition and wealth; All the blessing we ask is the blessing of health. So shall innocence self give a warrant to joys No envy disturbs, no dependance destroys: Then follow with me, where the welkin resounds With the notes of the horn, and the cry of the hounds. O'er hill, dale, and woodland, with rapture we SYLVIA. Though the white locks of silver'd age, And long experience hail thee sage; Ill suits it in this joy, to wear A brow so over-hung with care. Better with us thy voice to raise, And join a whole Arcadia's praise. DAMÆÆTAS. With you I joy that Thyrsis reigns The guardian o'er his native plains: But praise is scanty to reveal The speaking blessings all must feel. DAMON. True, all must feel-but thankless too? Nor give to virtue, virtue's due? My grateful heart shall ever show The debt I need not blush to owe. AIR. That I go where I list, that I sing what I please, That my labour's the price of contentment and ease, That no care from abroad my retirement annoys, That at home I can taste the true family joys, That my kids wanton safely o'er meadows and rocks, That my sheep graze secure from the robber or fox; These are blessings I share with the rest of the swains, For it's Thyrsis who gave them, and Thyrsis maintains. DAMÆTAS. RECITATIVE. Perish my voice, if e'er I blame The virtue which their sire hath shown, AIR. With joy the parent loves to trace Resemblance in his children's face: And as he forms their docile youth To walk the steady paths of truth, Observes them shooting into men, And lives in them life o'er again. While active sons, with eager flame, Catch virtue at their father's name; When full of glory, full of age, The parent quits this busy stage, What in the sons we most admire, Calls to new life the honour'd sire. SYLVIA. RECITATIVE. O prudent sage, forgive the zeal Of thoughtless youth. With thee I feel, Oh mighty Pan! attend Arcadia's voice, Inspire, direct, and sanctify his choice. AIR So may all thy sylvan train, Dryad, nymph, and rustic faun, To the pipe and merry strain, Trip it o'er the russet lawn! Though thy Syrinx, like a dream, Bearing all thy hopes away, If again thy heart should burn, Blest, and blessing, May'st thou find a wish'd return. |