Classic Poem

Spoken by Mr. ROSS.

Prologues of old, the learn'd in language say,
Were merely introductions to the play,
Spoken by gods, or ghosts, or men who knew
Whate'er was previous to the scenes in view;
And complaisantly came to lay before ye
The several heads, and windings of the story.
But modern times and British rules are such,
Our bards beforehand must not tell too much;
Nor dare we, like the neighb'ring French, admit
Ev'n confidantes, who might instruct the pit,
By asking questions of the leading few,
And hearing secrets, which before they knew.
Yet what we can to help this antique piece
We will attempt. — Our scene to-night is Greece.
And, by the magic of the poet's rod,
This stage the temple of the Delphic god!
Where kings, and chiefs, and sages came of old,
Like modern fools, to have their fortunes told;
And monarchs were enthron'd, or nations freed,
As an old priest, or wither'd maid, decreed.
Yet think not all were equally deceiv'd,
Some knew, more doubted, many more believ'd.
In short, these oracles and witching rhimes
Were but the pious frauds of ancient times;
Wisely contriv'd to keep mankind in awe,
When faith was wonder, and religion law!
Thus much premis'd, to every feeling breast
We kave the scenes themselves to tell the rest.
— Yet something sure was to the critics said,
Which I forget — some invocation made!
Ye critic bands, like jealous guardians, plac'd
To watch th' encroachments on the realms of taste,
From you our author would two boons obtain,
Not wholly diffident, nor wholly vain:
Two things he asks; 'tis modest, sure, from you
Who can do all things, to request but two:
First to his scenes a kind attention pay,
Then judge! — with candor judge — and we obey.