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Mr. CAMBRAY.
The chissel of Phidias, when fancy was warm,
Ne'er call'd out of stone a more exquisite form;
Tho' we read of his gods, and Antinous behold,
The figure of Cambray surpasses each mould;
And reduces their value as much in our eye,
As a Farren must feel when an Abington's by:
Like the taper and sun, tho' they both may be bright,
Weak beams are absorb'd—by superior light,
When he rav'd in young Ammon, his confidence slew him,
And his mental Bucephalus furiously threw him.—
He should stop the approaches of turbulent fire,
When Energy's heat would the passions inspire;
Such force, like a torrent, oppresses the sense,
And breaks down those dams Wit had rais'd for defence;
Spoils the regions of Taste unrestrain'd by command,
And, tho' meant for a blessing, inundates the land.—
His Jaffier, tho' deck'd with much personal grace,
Is a part that's too vast for his skill to embrace;
When he yields up his honor'd associate Pierre,
As the martyr to one weak uxorious tear;
No beam that's divine round his periods play,
No signs of the god lift the man from his clay;
'Tis a mortal exertion to Common Sense due,
That is well, but not great; and tho' pleasant, not true.
Ne'er call'd out of stone a more exquisite form;
Tho' we read of his gods, and Antinous behold,
The figure of Cambray surpasses each mould;
And reduces their value as much in our eye,
As a Farren must feel when an Abington's by:
237
Weak beams are absorb'd—by superior light,
When he rav'd in young Ammon, his confidence slew him,
And his mental Bucephalus furiously threw him.—
He should stop the approaches of turbulent fire,
When Energy's heat would the passions inspire;
Such force, like a torrent, oppresses the sense,
And breaks down those dams Wit had rais'd for defence;
Spoils the regions of Taste unrestrain'd by command,
And, tho' meant for a blessing, inundates the land.—
His Jaffier, tho' deck'd with much personal grace,
Is a part that's too vast for his skill to embrace;
When he yields up his honor'd associate Pierre,
As the martyr to one weak uxorious tear;
No beam that's divine round his periods play,
No signs of the god lift the man from his clay;
'Tis a mortal exertion to Common Sense due,
That is well, but not great; and tho' pleasant, not true.
The labours of Garrick were labours that fed,
With salubrious sallies, the heart and the head;
A sweet mental diet correcting the bile,
Which it turn'd, by its passing, to excellent chyle;
A sublimate off'ring, just caught from the fire,
When Reason's bless'd heat bid all grossness retire,
That its subtelties then, more prevailing and pure,
Might probe Wisdom's wounds, and establish a cure;
Raise a warfare 'gainst errors which Weakness prescrib'd,
And exterminate follies the system imbib'd.—
With salubrious sallies, the heart and the head;
A sweet mental diet correcting the bile,
Which it turn'd, by its passing, to excellent chyle;
A sublimate off'ring, just caught from the fire,
When Reason's bless'd heat bid all grossness retire,
That its subtelties then, more prevailing and pure,
Might probe Wisdom's wounds, and establish a cure;
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And exterminate follies the system imbib'd.—
Ere he burst in Othello, to seize tragic spoils,
An over-strain'd policy ruin'd his toils:
Hideous puffs, like base Croats, were plac'd on each post,
To precede the dread march of the regular host;
Affirming the public in duty were bound,
To exalt this astonishing—mouther of sound!
So Kemble each day meets with Lunacy's praise,
Tho' Laughter destroys more than Madness can raise:
For puffs ill-conceiv'd, by such sinister elves,
Drag a ruin along, and recoil on themselves.—
Thus Hannibal felt, when his well-phalanx'd foes,
Led their legions the vow-shackl'd chief to oppose;
Drove his elephants back with unbounded destruction,
And what Pride meant as glory, Death us'd as Seduction.
An over-strain'd policy ruin'd his toils:
Hideous puffs, like base Croats, were plac'd on each post,
To precede the dread march of the regular host;
Affirming the public in duty were bound,
To exalt this astonishing—mouther of sound!
So Kemble each day meets with Lunacy's praise,
Tho' Laughter destroys more than Madness can raise:
For puffs ill-conceiv'd, by such sinister elves,
Drag a ruin along, and recoil on themselves.—
Thus Hannibal felt, when his well-phalanx'd foes,
Led their legions the vow-shackl'd chief to oppose;
Drove his elephants back with unbounded destruction,
And what Pride meant as glory, Death us'd as Seduction.
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