Classic Poem

In, for one night, receive a volunteer ,
At a friend's call — Who would not, arm'd, appear?
Danger looks lovely, where the Cause invites,
And the near prospect rather charms, than frights .
Yet, since the task is arduous, and requires
A sea of passions, and a storm of fires,
For strength ; a borrower to your stores I come,
And EVERY bounteous hand shall lend me some:

Teach me, ye F AIR , how love and pity charm;
Your eyes can light me, and your influence warm :
Triumphs, and joys, your smiles can best supply ;
But from your lovers , I must learn, to die .

N EXT — with your spirit, Sirs, MY breast, inspire,
Lend me your eloquence, your air, your fire.
Teach me your S OFTNESS , when in love I sue ,
And, to encrease it, if I conquer , too.
But your inconstancy and lightness — those
Keep to yourselves, I want 'em not — Heaven KNOWS !

T HUS far, self-mov'd, and heedless of my trust,
I, guardian like, serv'd my own interest, first;
Now, I your smiles for P OLYDORE exact,
Should I not SPEAK for him , for whom I ACT ?
Foes to all craft in love, your spleen express,
And nobly hate him, for his dark success :
To-night, forgive him — he BUT acts a part,
Far from his wish , and foreign to his heart :
He wears the blush of virtue on his face ,
And rather would be wretched , than be base .

I F , in the stage's gathering night , we stray,
And (all its guides, now lost , mistake our way;
Be THIS my Polydore's , and my defence;
Indulge us — 'tis our first , and last offence.