 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
On the Corruptions of the STAGE
Long did the Stage with nervous Sense delight,
Exalt the ravish'd Soul, and charm the Sight;
Whilst Shakespear, Row and all those Sons of Fame,
(Our greatest Glory, and our greatest Shame)
With lofty Buskin, or facetious Lay,
Held o'er the captive Mind despotic Sway.
With noble Ardor then they trod the Scene,
We came, we saw, we gaz'd ourselves to Men.
Exalt the ravish'd Soul, and charm the Sight;
Whilst Shakespear, Row and all those Sons of Fame,
(Our greatest Glory, and our greatest Shame)
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Held o'er the captive Mind despotic Sway.
With noble Ardor then they trod the Scene,
We came, we saw, we gaz'd ourselves to Men.
At length from Latian Shores, infectious Clime!
Came the soft Cadence and inervate Chime.
Amphion-like, those modern Sons of Art
Could chain the Sense and captivate the Heart.
Oh wond'rous Skill! but mark the Syren Rocks;
He Blocks to Men, they Men transform'd to Blocks.
Came the soft Cadence and inervate Chime.
Amphion-like, those modern Sons of Art
Could chain the Sense and captivate the Heart.
Oh wond'rous Skill! but mark the Syren Rocks;
He Blocks to Men, they Men transform'd to Blocks.
NEXT Harlequin, ingenious Antique, came;
The same his Magic, and his Sourse the same.
With Kick facetious, or with witty Grin,
He rais'd our Laughter—but expos'd our Brain.
In vain Mercutio jests, poor Juliet mourns in vain.
Phogh! who can bear th'intolerable Strain!
Where strong and manly sense disturbs our Ease,
And Passions, too affecting e'er to please.
To burning Houses, Monsters, and Grimace,
To flying Bottles, Wands, and waving Seas,
To cheated Cuckolds, and the bold Rogere,
Illustrious Hero! pendent in the Air;
To these we fly, and leave those Sons of Spleen,
The Fools of Sense, to doat on Shakespear's Scene.
The same his Magic, and his Sourse the same.
With Kick facetious, or with witty Grin,
He rais'd our Laughter—but expos'd our Brain.
In vain Mercutio jests, poor Juliet mourns in vain.
Phogh! who can bear th'intolerable Strain!
Where strong and manly sense disturbs our Ease,
And Passions, too affecting e'er to please.
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To flying Bottles, Wands, and waving Seas,
To cheated Cuckolds, and the bold Rogere,
Illustrious Hero! pendent in the Air;
To these we fly, and leave those Sons of Spleen,
The Fools of Sense, to doat on Shakespear's Scene.
MACHEATH at last arose with vent'rous Wing,
And laugh'd away the Brethren of the String.
But whilst he cures the Head-Ake's trifling Pain,
With raging Frenzy he infects the Brain.
To awkard Imitations next we came,
The nauseous Snuffs of true poetick Flame.
From foreign Trifling and unmanly Tone,
We turn to downright Nonsense of our own.
And laugh'd away the Brethren of the String.
But whilst he cures the Head-Ake's trifling Pain,
With raging Frenzy he infects the Brain.
To awkard Imitations next we came,
The nauseous Snuffs of true poetick Flame.
From foreign Trifling and unmanly Tone,
We turn to downright Nonsense of our own.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |