Classic Poem

PERFORMED AT COVENT-GARDEN , 1795.

Few will their follies, or their faults allow,
If stern instruction wears an haughty brow;
But when the muse unfolds the drama's page,
And gives a moral lesson from the stage;
Our pride, so prone to take alarm,'s at rest,
And vice, abash'd, unplumes his gaudy crest.
To night our author shews a female mind
(For friendship, love, and tenderness design'd!)
Seduc'd, by Imitation's tyrant pow'r,
To yield to ev'ry fashion of the hour:
Horses the day, and cards the night employ,
And leave no time for one domestic joy;
The soft endearments of connubial life,
That bless the mother, and adorn the wife!
The smile, which health and innocence supply,
Are ever strangers to her haggard eye.
Yet may we hope this giddy town can boast
Some who defy great Pharoah and his host;
Who think that life can sweeter joys afford,
In friendly converse, at the social board,
Than in the dull monotony of play,
Shuffling for ever cards and life away!
The Muse, disgusted, shuns a scene like this,
And turns to prospects of a nation's bliss:
Brunswick possess'd a treasure, good as fair!
And gave that treasure up to England's heir:
Oh! may their joys with ev'ry hour increase,
And their sweet union be the pledge of peace!
May nuptial love a lasting wreath entwine,
To bind the hearts of George and Caroline;
And let them to make happiness their own,
Copy the bright example on the throne!

 Our bard's Bank Note for currency must wait
On your opinion, which decides its fate;
It's credit firm as England's bank shall stand,
If once supported by your notes of hand!