 | The Captives |  |
87
EPILOGUE.
By THOMAS VAUGHAN, Esq.Spoken by Mrs. SIDDONS.
At length our bark has reached the wished-for shore,
The winds are hush'd—but is all danger o'er?
The trembling bard still hovers o'er the main—
Still dreads the dancing waves that lash in vain;
Clings like th'affrighted sailor to the mast,
And shudders at the dangers he has past.
The winds are hush'd—but is all danger o'er?
The trembling bard still hovers o'er the main—
Still dreads the dancing waves that lash in vain;
Clings like th'affrighted sailor to the mast,
And shudders at the dangers he has past.
Dangers indeed—for who, in times like these,
Would launch his ship to plough dramatic seas?
Where growling thunders roll, and tempests sweep
Such crouds of bold adventurers to the deep.
O'er his poor head the winds of malice below,
And waves of angry censure rage below.
Would launch his ship to plough dramatic seas?
Where growling thunders roll, and tempests sweep
Such crouds of bold adventurers to the deep.
O'er his poor head the winds of malice below,
And waves of angry censure rage below.
Critics, like monsters, on each side appear,
Herald, the whale; and shark, the Gazetteer—
If these he chance t'escape, there comes a squall
From Lloyd's, St. James's, London, or Whitehall;
Here Chronicle, like Scylla, guards the coast,
There foams Charybdis—in the Morning Post.
Mark how they break his rudder, cut his cable,
Tear up plan, diction, sentiment, and fable;
Their order is—an order they enjoy,
To seize, to burn, to sink, and to destroy.
Herald, the whale; and shark, the Gazetteer—
If these he chance t'escape, there comes a squall
From Lloyd's, St. James's, London, or Whitehall;
Here Chronicle, like Scylla, guards the coast,
There foams Charybdis—in the Morning Post.
Mark how they break his rudder, cut his cable,
Tear up plan, diction, sentiment, and fable;
Their order is—an order they enjoy,
To seize, to burn, to sink, and to destroy.
What wonderous chance our author should survive,
That in such boisterous seas his bark's alive?
But fond Ambition led the bard along,
And Syren Muses tempted with a song;
Fame, like another Circe, beck'ning stood,
Waved her fair hand, and bade him brave the flood.
Who could resist, when thus she shewed her charms,
Soothed his fond hopes, and wooed him to her arms?
Half-rigg'd, half mann'd, and leaky, as you find,
He tricked his frigate out, and brav'd the wind.
That in such boisterous seas his bark's alive?
88
And Syren Muses tempted with a song;
Fame, like another Circe, beck'ning stood,
Waved her fair hand, and bade him brave the flood.
Who could resist, when thus she shewed her charms,
Soothed his fond hopes, and wooed him to her arms?
Half-rigg'd, half mann'd, and leaky, as you find,
He tricked his frigate out, and brav'd the wind.
Your partial favour still may swell his sails,
And fill his vessel with propitious gales;
Though peppered with small shot, and tempest tossed,
You still may land him on this golden coast;
Convinced that those the surest path pursue,
Who trust their all to candour and to you.
And fill his vessel with propitious gales;
Though peppered with small shot, and tempest tossed,
You still may land him on this golden coast;
Convinced that those the surest path pursue,
Who trust their all to candour and to you.
FINIS.
| The Captives | |