The Works of the Late Aaron Hill ... In Four Volumes. Consisting of Letters on Various Subjects, And of Original Poems, Moral and Facetious. With An Essay on the Art of Acting |
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PROLOGUE. |
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 | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill |  |
PROLOGUE.
Peace to the muse's empire—let the stage
Shun civil war, and only act its rage:
While rising strife divides our neighbouring state,
To prove our taste abhorrent of debate,
We soften feuds, with a pacific scheme,
And take a good old treaty, for our theme.
Shun civil war, and only act its rage:
While rising strife divides our neighbouring state,
To prove our taste abhorrent of debate,
We soften feuds, with a pacific scheme,
And take a good old treaty, for our theme.
366
Far be the omen, that attends the name!
Treaties, in England, are of losing fame;
In Bocalini's scale, they treaties lay,
The more thrown in, the lighter, still, they weigh.
Tho', says Comines, in war, these English beat,
Morbleu, we Frenchmen souce 'em, when they treat.
Treaties, in England, are of losing fame;
In Bocalini's scale, they treaties lay,
The more thrown in, the lighter, still, they weigh.
Tho', says Comines, in war, these English beat,
Morbleu, we Frenchmen souce 'em, when they treat.
Such
satire might be just, in ages past,
But no bad politicks have strength, to last.
How can it, now, be truth, when Britain's kings
Stretch over Europe, their protective wings?
See the first seeds of jarring purpose rise,
And mark the growing guilt, with guardian eyes.
'Till forc'd accord the promis'd harvest sweeps,
And all, at once, is peace—and murder sleeps.
But no bad politicks have strength, to last.
How can it, now, be truth, when Britain's kings
Stretch over Europe, their protective wings?
See the first seeds of jarring purpose rise,
And mark the growing guilt, with guardian eyes.
'Till forc'd accord the promis'd harvest sweeps,
And all, at once, is peace—and murder sleeps.
Away, with parties, and their partial fears;
Whence our long calm, of twenty peaceful years?
Why so remote, do these state thunders spread,
Nor break, in dang'rous nearness, o'er our head?
Half thy lov'd blessings, liberty, would cease,
Cou'd war, and rapine, force the fence of peace:
But, like a safe-guard mountain, stands the throne,
Nor hear we of a storm, 'till 'tis o'erblown.
Whence our long calm, of twenty peaceful years?
Why so remote, do these state thunders spread,
Nor break, in dang'rous nearness, o'er our head?
Half thy lov'd blessings, liberty, would cease,
Cou'd war, and rapine, force the fence of peace:
But, like a safe-guard mountain, stands the throne,
Nor hear we of a storm, 'till 'tis o'erblown.
367
How greater, far, this pow'r to save, than kill,
The wish how god-like! and how vast the skill!
The hand of ruin we, with ease, employ,
And every puny tyrant can destroy:
But, like the God, who bids the waves be still,
To curb the rage of struggling war, at will!
To say to monarchs—Let your discord rest,
I will not see the world, I guard, distrest.
—This is, indeed, to rule—Such princes claim,
If not a sounding, yet a shining, fame.
Faction but helps the greatness, it defies,
And lives, but by the mercy, it denies.
The wish how god-like! and how vast the skill!
The hand of ruin we, with ease, employ,
And every puny tyrant can destroy:
But, like the God, who bids the waves be still,
To curb the rage of struggling war, at will!
To say to monarchs—Let your discord rest,
I will not see the world, I guard, distrest.
—This is, indeed, to rule—Such princes claim,
If not a sounding, yet a shining, fame.
Faction but helps the greatness, it defies,
And lives, but by the mercy, it denies.
| The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | |