Classic Poem

PART THE FIRST .

Now that gaunt War, in pity to our Isle,
Sleeks his grim features to a sullen smile,
Sweet Peace, unscar'd by his terrific crest,
Clasps the dread Daemon to her turtle-breast,
Hangs his dark helmet on the myrtle-bough,
And binds with olive-wreath his blood-stain'd brow;
While barren P ETER pries abroad in vain,
For heroes, worthy his P INDARIC strain,
Stoop'd from a lofty L OUSIAD , and a K ING ,
To R UMFORD , and Receipts for Rotten Ling;
Or, fatal to each fond, uxorious Peer,
Thunders C RIM . C ON . in A UCKLAND 's frighted ear;
Cloy'd with the beauties of Dramatic Art,
That poorly feed the eye, but feast the heart,
When a vain Age seems emulous to raise
The dry Moralities of former days;
When o'er Instruction chaste, and Thought sublime,
Flits the gay Sprite of airy Pantomime;
Nay, basely exil'd from their native shore,
Strong Sense, and pow'rful S HAKESPEARE please no more;
Stung by such madness into tenfold rage,
I rise to lash the mongrels of the Stage;
With scale impartial, to decide the plea
Of plaintiff Wit, and set the Suff'rer free.
Nor yet to Actors is the fault confin'd,
It clings more closely to the scribbling kind;
Dull fops! damnation-proof, whom duns compel,
To forge stale farces, ere they learn to spell;
Blockheads! with brandy and assurance warm,
Who " 'bide the pelting of the pitiless storm, "
Resolv'd to cram their nauseous doses down,
And bully into praise, the crop-sick Town.
Tho' Dramatists we boast, inspir'd by spleen,
Who pick the vilest gleanings of the Scene,
Or sketch the eccentric fashions as they rise:
They never vaunt the plaudit of the wise.
Who gives to Comedy's high-favor'd birth
" Right stately moral, and full honest mirth! "
Who holds such finish'd Characters to view,
As surly B EN , or sprightly B EAUMONT drew?
Since, with the G ERMAN tragic-fever fir'd,
Chaste Humour from her S HERIDAN retir'd.
Mistaken bard! ungratefully, to scorn
The dimpled bride, for thy embraces born;
Unfeelingly, to slight her genuine flame,
And court the coyness of the tearful dame.
Ev'n H E , who from P ANAMA 's rocky height,
Brav'd the wild tempest, and the flaming fight;
Ev'n H E — P IZARRO ! — shall no more surprize,
Nor R OLLA 's thund'ring rant, or savage size,
When S CANDAL 's School , with fadeless conquest crown'd,
Shall eccho Joy's eternal laugh around.

Ye T HESPIAN tribes! where-ever you resort,
Sunk in a Cellar, cringing at a Court;
Whether, thro' garret-roofs, your nostrils wooe
The pleasurable breeze soft murm'ring thro';
Or, more delighted with a meaner state,
The smoaking Chop adorn your genial plate;
Tho' J ULIET thro' the Park may, ogling, stray,
With " fond, reluctant, amorous delay; "
While fair O PHELIA , what a monstrous sin!
Soothes her sad heart with solitary Gin;
Tho' D ESDEMONA 's wine, the cunning punk!
Instead of C ASSIO , made I AGO drunk;
Tho' P IERRE , whom prowling Creditors enclose,
" Fine, bold fac'd villain! " durst not shew his nose;
Tho' mad M ACBETH the surly watchmen keep,
To answer at Q UEEN 's S QUARE for " murd'ring sleep; "
Tho' B RUTUS can't a pair of breeches boast;
And G ERTRUDE grills a griskin for the G HOST ;
Nay, tho' a Writ Y OUNG A MMON may detain,
And four stout Bailiffs seize the pensive D ANE ;
By this well-feather'd talisman of mine,
Pluck'd from the pinion of a Goose divine;
By the dread W EEKLY C ENSOR , name of fear!
Ye T HESPIAN tribes! I charge you to appear!
And, as your forms in quick succession pass,
Let Fancy catch each shadow in her Glass.

First of the band, applauded K EMBLE moves,
Whom Judgment regulates, and taste approves;
While at respectful distance rivals bow,
Deep meditation marks his serious brow,
Till firm intent, and resolution high,
Anon, relume his awe-commanding eye.
On ev'ry step of his superior state,
The sober triumphs of Conception wait;
And partial Nature lends each lib'ral grace
Of manly form, and mind-illumin'd face.
Ah! had she, too, these pow'rful tones supplied,
That pierce the heart, and o'er the ear preside,
Attune the plaint of Love, or swell the burst of Pride;
Nor, niggard in this mighty gift alone,
Spar'd but a hollow, hoarse, sepulchral groan;
By art unmellow'd, and by trick untam'd,
Pitied by Candour, tho' by Envy blam'd:
Well might this later Time expect to view
R OSCIUS , reviving, witch the world anew;
Nor ask a Dancer, or an Eunuch's aid,
By the sweet sorcery of Action sway'd.
Who that has seen his H AMLET 's well-feign'd woe,
Disclosing " that within which passeth shew; "
Who that has caught his agonizing stare,
Of dread uncertainty, on B ANQUO 's chair;
Or ev'n P ENRUDDOCK 's undetermin'd hate,
Touch'd by his villain-friend's too piteous fate,
But owns, all puny prejudice aside,
Impartial Justice, only, is my guide?
What Imp has thrust upon the tragic scene,
Prepost'rous joke! a ranting Mandarine!
Oh! for some spruce Drill-serjeant, to prepare
That ploughboy-attitude, and awkward air;
To one fix'd point, those pendulums to bring,
And ascertain each arm's perpetual swing.
Yet let not censure, too severely, treat
Talents, that might be graceful, never great.
Voice is not wanting — true! — for empty sound,
I freely own, a kettle-drum's renown'd;
But where my pulse should beat with fancied fears,
My heart with feeling flow, my eyes with tears,
Where Terror's icy chill should blanch my cheek,
Or the hot blush of rude Resentment break,
Milk-warm, and model'd on a milder plan,
By Heav'n — that B ARRYMORE is not the man.