Like errant Dâmfels, boldly we engage, But now, fo Age and Frailty have ordain'd, * By two at once he's forc'd to be fuftain'd. What he has been, tho' prefent Praife be dumb, Shall haply be a Theme in Tifies to come, As now } we talk of ROSCIUS, and of Rome. Had you with-held your Favours on this Night, Old SHAKESPEAR's Ghoft had risen to do him Right. With Indignation had you feen him frown Upon a worthless, witlefs, taftlefs Town; Griev'd and repining, you had hear'd him fay, Why are the Muses Labours caft away? Why did I write what only he could play? But fince, like Friends to Wit, th throng'd you meet, Go on and make the gen'rous Work compleat; * Mrs. Barry and Mrs. Bracegirdle clasp him round the Waste. Be Be true to Merit, and still own his Cause, Be kind, and give him a Discharge at last. On the laft Judgment, and the Happinefs of the Saints in Heaven. Done from the Latin of J. Gerhard. 'N that blefs'd Day, from ev'ry Part, the Juft, And meet within high Heaven's capacious Court: The reverend Sires with Pleasure shall we greet, There, like their Days, their Joys shall ne'er be done, To the Tune of, Grim King of the Ghosts. D Efpairing befide a clear Stream, A Shepherd forfaken was laid; And while a falfe Nymph was his Theme, A Willow fupported his Head.. The Wind that blew over the Plain, To his Sighs with a Sigh did reply; And the Brook, in return to his Pain, Ran mournfully murmuring by. Alas, filly Swain that I was! Thus fadly complaining he cry'd, When first I beheld that fair Face, Twere better by far I had dy'd. She talk'd, and I blefs'd the dear Tongue When the fmil'd, 'twas a Pleasure too great. I liften'd, and cry'd, when the fung, How How foolish I was to believe She could dpat on fo lowly a Clown, So kind and fo conftant would prove; What tho' I have Skill to complain, Tho'the Mufes my Temples have crown'd; And you, my Companions fo dear, Forbear to accufe the falfe Maid. Tho' thro' the wide World I should range, If while my hard Fate I sustain, In her Breaft any Pity is found, Let her come with the Nymphs of the Plain, And fee me laid low in the Ground. |