Shakspeare alone to every scene can give
The historian's truth, and bid the manners live.
Waked at his call, I view, with glad surprise,
Majestic forms of mighty monarchs rise:
There Henry's trumpets spread their loud alarms,
And laurel’d Conquest waits her hero's arms.
Where'er we turn, by Fancy charm’d, we find
Some sweet illusion of the cheated mind.