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So Nature's self, whom he so well could paint,
But what so potent charm, what chain so strong,
Nor strove again to please a thankless town.
Wrapp'd in the Prophet's robe arose his friend,
Thus did Achilles from the dusty plain
Thy Comic Muse, and trust me, Congreve, I
Some know the sock and some the buskin's pace, But Congreve treads in both with equal grace: __ When dress'd in widow’d weeds his Muse appears, Who can refuse the Mourning Bride his tears
So when Adonis dy'd, her grief became, Well as her former mirth, the laughter-loving dame. * o, “ . Long would the labor be, and vain the toil, 24.2 To sing the master-strokes of Otway's stile, Ev’n the most loyal must his Pierre commend, Nor can his Orphan ever want a friend.
Read Etherege, you that would appear genteel;
Loud thunder bursts in volleys, lightnings rage, . Shoots the blue ghastly gleam across the darken'd stage.
And thou, O Addison, no more detain The free-born Cato, struggling in his chain : 'Tis Liberty he loves, disclose thy vast design, And let us see that every Muse is thine. And now the Isis proudly rears her head, See o'er her flowery lawns the Goddess tread, 2/2 . Thee, Heliconian Deity, I know, Accept the verse thy streams have taught to flow. But hark! she claims aloud the laurel wreath, . To bind the temples of her darling Smith, Alas ! to bind his temples 1—he's no more, But wanders silent on the Stygian shore; Long since the promis'd Bard in all his pride, In blooming beauty, like his Phaedra died. O were the Youth, the Youth so long deplor’d, Like his Hippolitus to life restor'd, 272 Myriads of heroes should with him revive; And in his labor’d lays triumphant live. But hold! to sing such Poets’ praise, requires A genius great as Addison's or theirs. - | Do thou, my Muse, describe the bright abodes. Of wits, of cits, of critics, beaux, and bawds, Of venal emperors, and earthling gods. . Low lies the tribe, commanded by the box, That damn a play, or sign it orthodox, The pit they fill, the pit where punks patrol, *
These look a luring leer, and those a gloomy scowl; G-c-
Nor wounds the fiercer critic's envious hiss; 1 c-
Now turn, and see, where, loaden with her freight, A damsel stands, and orange-wench is hight; See how her charge hangs dangling by the rim, ope See how the balls blush o'er the basket-brim; But little those she minds, the cunning belle 2/* Has other fish to fry, and other fruit to sell: See how she whispers yonder youthful peer; -- o 4. See how he smiles, and lends a greedy ear. - '' oAt length 'tis done, the note o'er orange wrapt Has reach'd the box, and lies in lady's lap ; Such Atalanta was, such golden fruit *** * Gain'd the fair murderess in the hot pursuit. * * Poor pretty prostitute, thou kind relief -- ?--To longing Lady, and to Gallant's grief: May that soft hand which both the boxes know, Plump as thy orange in their service grow ; * Still vend thy fruit, still give the billet right, +” So may both colors in thy cheeks unite, The fruit's vermillion, and the billet's white
But hark, a fight | by some brisk spark indited, It is decreed the ladies must be frighted.
I hear the soldiers and the clarions roar,
So have I seen, when custard was the prize,
Say, whence their armor, whence the cask enchas'd