104

EPILOGUE SPOKEN BY MR. LEE LEWES.

No-I will act, I'll vindicate the stage:
Shakspeare himself shall feel my tragic rage.
Off! off! vile trappings! a new passion reigns!
The madd'ning monarch revels in my veins.
Oh! for a Richard's voice to catch the theme:

Give me another horse! bind up my wounds !—soft -'twas but a dream.

Aye, 'twas but a dream, for now there's no retreating, If I cease Harlequin, I cease from eating.

'Twas thus that Esop's stag, a creature blameless, Yet something vain, like one that shall be nameless, Once on the margin of a fountain stood,

And cavilled at his image in the flood.

[shanks.

"The deuce confound," he cries, "these drumstick

They never have my gratitude nor thanks;
They're perfectly disgraceful! strike me dead!
But for a head, yes, yes, I have a head.

How piercing is that eye! how sleek that brow!
My horns! I'm told horns are the fashion now."
Whilst thus he spoke, astonished! to his view,
Near and more near, the hounds and huntsmen drew.
Hoicks, hark forward! came thundering from be-
He bounds aloft, outstrips the fleeting wind: [hind,
He quits the woods, and tries the beaten ways;
He starts, he pants, he takes the circling maze.
At length his silly head, so prized before,
Is taught his former folly to deplore;
Whilst his strong limbs conspire to set him free,
And at one bound, he saves himself, like me.

[Taking a jump through the stage door.

ON THE TAKING OF QUEBEC.

AMIDST the clamours of exulting joys,

Which triumph forces from the patriot heart, Grief dares to mingle her soul-piercing voice, And quells the raptures which from pleasure start.

O Wolff, to thee a streaming flood of wo,

Sighing we pay, and think e'en conquest dear; Quebec in vain shall teach our breast to glow, Whilst thy sad fate extorts the heart-wrung tear.

Alive the foe thy dreadful vigour fled,

And saw thee fall with joy-pronouncing eyes: Yet they shall know thou conquerest, though dead! Since from thy tomb a thousand heroes rise.

ON A BEAUTIFUL YOUTH,

Struck Blind by Lightning.

SURE 'twas by Providence designed

Rather in pity than in hate,

That he should be, like Cupid, blind,

To save him from Narcissus' fate.

I 2

WEEPING, murmuring, complaining,

Lost to every gay delight;
Myra, too sincere for feigning,
Fears th' approaching bridal night.

Yet why impair thy bright perfection?
Or dim thy beauty with a tear?
Had Myra followed my direction,
She long had wanted cause of fear.

SONG I.

From the Ora orio of the Captivity.

THE wretch condemned with life to part,

Still, still on hope relies;

And ev'ry pang that rends the heart,
Bids expectation rise.

Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light,
Adorns and cheers the way;

And still as darker grows the night,

Emits a brighter ray.

Intended to have been sung in the Comedy of "She Stoops to Conquer."

Ан

H me! when shall I marry me ?
Lovers are plenty; but fail to relieve me?

He, fond youth! that could carry me,
Offers to love, but means to deceive me,
But I will rally and combat the ruiner:

Not a look, not a smile shall my passion discover.
She that gives all to the false one pursuing her,
Makes but a penitent, and loses a lover.

SONG III.

MEMORY! thou fond deceiver, Still importunate and vain, To former joys recurring ever

And turning all the past to pain:

Thou, like the world, the opprest oppressing,
Thy smiles increase the wretches wo;

And he who wants each other blessing,

In thee must ever find a foe.

W
HEN lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds, too late, that men betray,
What charm can sooth her melancholy,
What art can wash her guilt away?

The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from ev'ry eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom-is, to die.

THE CLOWN'S REPLY.

J

OHN TROTT was desired by two witty peers, To tell them the reason why asses had ears?

"An't please you," quoth John, "I'm not given to letters,

Nor dare I pretend to know more than my betters, Howe'er, from this time, I shall ne'er see your graces, As I hope to be saved.! without thinking on asses." Edinburgh, 1753.