Classic Poem

Prologues to Plays, and Prefaces to Books,
Without their Help, how awkardly it looks?
Our Cato 's Author, tho' excell'd by no Man,
With Prologue chose to introduce his Roman .
Din Pope harangu'd in such a lofty Strain,
As in Friend Addi . had been counted vain;
The Audience must applaud, or they were short All — —
A pretty Way of getting Fame immortal!

It had Success — — throng'd was the House of Drury ;
Both Factions clap'd with more than civil Fury — —
Cato 's now Sterling Coin, that you must take;
But what Excuses shall we Players make?
If Actors' Souls should like their Heros' be,
To make the Scenes all natural and free,
Bless us! what Romans you are like to see!
How shall we swell with Sentiments heroic?
At Twenty, Sirs, can you expect a Stoic?
At least, we hope, no Character felonious,
No real Syphax , or no true Sempronius — —
We may have Marc , or Juba 's weaker Side —
The soft Captivity who has not try'd?
But then our Fates are, like our Cloe 's, kind;
If we possess, 'tis difficult to find
When we have shown such Bravery of Mind.

You think these Reasons should have kept us hence,
Our forward Want of Judgment gives Offence —
Well, to your Favour then let this restore us —
Drawn on by Fame, we read the Piece before us;
We glow'd, we read again, the generous Heat
Warm'd all our Blood, and in our Pulses beat;
The Godlike Patriot stood before our Eyes;
We saw his little Senate round him rise!
Each Youth was lifted to a Cato 's Son;
And, in his Thought, the Race of Virtue run;
Put on the Person, as the Language fir'd;
And gave up all his Soul to be inspir'd!

Forgive us then, if, warm in Virtue's Cause
We greatly seek, but not deserve Applause —
Expect not us to charm, or wound the Heart,
With Booth 's Authority, and Wilks 's Art —
For who can do it? Juba is no more!
Great Cato 's Silence all the Nine deplore!
The mimic Father faintly strikes our Ears;
And scarcely the Numidian 's Shade appears —
Beauty and Grace have left the British Stage,
And Tragedy herself feels the Decays of Age!

To draw in Miniature each Actor strives
Virtues we'd copy largely in our Lives;
Or make our Souls with Indignation rise
Against the Villain, in whate'er Disguise —
Ye Ladies then, espouse fair Virtue's Part;
And in Reward claim each a faithful Heart:
In our Attempt our Resolution see;
And bear us Witness what we wish to be.