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PROLOGUE,
INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN SPOKEN BEFORE THE FIRST PART OF HENRY THE FOURTH, ACTED BY THE GENTLEMEN OF THE READING SCHOOL MEETING, OCTOBER 23, 1809.
INSCRIBED TO THE REV. DR. VALPY.
'Twas here of late, triumphant and alone,
The tragic Muse uprear'd her double throne;
Whilst sad Admetus mourn'd domestic woe,
Or public wrongs bade English sorrow flow;
To the same chord the heart responsive rung,
In native accents, or in Grecia's tongue;
Still flow'd the tear, the pitying bosom bled,
For injur'd England, or Alcestis dead.
The tragic Muse uprear'd her double throne;
Whilst sad Admetus mourn'd domestic woe,
Or public wrongs bade English sorrow flow;
To the same chord the heart responsive rung,
In native accents, or in Grecia's tongue;
Still flow'd the tear, the pitying bosom bled,
For injur'd England, or Alcestis dead.
77
To-night a high, yet mirthful, theme we chuse,
And join Thalia to the buskin'd Muse;
As nature bade, immortal Shakspeare drew,
With varying shades, life's many-tinctur'd hue;
'Twas his alone, resistless, to control
Each jarring passion of the human soul;
Bright wit, and melting pathos, to combine
In the gay sportive jest, and lofty line;
Where pity claims the tear, and mirth the smile,
At once for Hotspur's death, and Falstaff's wile.
As the light showers, that dew the rose of May,
Resplendent glitter in the sunny ray,
So hangs the tear on beauty's blushing cheek,
Whilst dimpled smiles in radiant lustre break.
And join Thalia to the buskin'd Muse;
As nature bade, immortal Shakspeare drew,
With varying shades, life's many-tinctur'd hue;
'Twas his alone, resistless, to control
Each jarring passion of the human soul;
Bright wit, and melting pathos, to combine
In the gay sportive jest, and lofty line;
Where pity claims the tear, and mirth the smile,
At once for Hotspur's death, and Falstaff's wile.
As the light showers, that dew the rose of May,
Resplendent glitter in the sunny ray,
So hangs the tear on beauty's blushing cheek,
Whilst dimpled smiles in radiant lustre break.
Now turn we then to Albion's elder days,—
Theme of our pride, our envy, and our praise!
When Percy led his gallant legions forth,
Proud to obey the Hotspur of the North,
Percy, whose valiant deeds, whose deathless fame,
Shed a bright beam on fell rebellion's name;
Till Harry Monmouth, in the glorious strife,
Despoil'd the hero's laurels with his life;
And gave the promise of that god-like day,
When haughty Gallia bow'd to England's sway.
Theme of our pride, our envy, and our praise!
When Percy led his gallant legions forth,
Proud to obey the Hotspur of the North,
78
Shed a bright beam on fell rebellion's name;
Till Harry Monmouth, in the glorious strife,
Despoil'd the hero's laurels with his life;
And gave the promise of that god-like day,
When haughty Gallia bow'd to England's sway.
What varied scenes this well-known spot recals!
What joyous mirth has echo'd round its walls;
In those fair hours, when childhood, blithe and gay
Cast o'er the world his visionary ray;
When rosy health, exulting, spurn'd the ground,
And hope, and life, and nature smil'd around!
Then he, who pleasure can with learning blend,
And in each pupil knows to fix a friend,
First taught, with manly voice and prouder mien,
To tread, with measur'd step, the tragic scene;
How oft with hope elate our bosoms swell'd!
How oft pale fear the rising transports quell'd!
What joyous mirth has echo'd round its walls;
In those fair hours, when childhood, blithe and gay
Cast o'er the world his visionary ray;
When rosy health, exulting, spurn'd the ground,
And hope, and life, and nature smil'd around!
Then he, who pleasure can with learning blend,
And in each pupil knows to fix a friend,
First taught, with manly voice and prouder mien,
To tread, with measur'd step, the tragic scene;
How oft with hope elate our bosoms swell'd!
How oft pale fear the rising transports quell'd!
79
Some mingled years of woe and bliss have flown,
Since last we call'd these anxious hopes our own;
Now thrown on active life's tumultuous stage,
New fears, new cares, our busy thoughts engage;
But still our hearts, to early feelings true,
Cling to the cherish'd wish of pleasing you;
To your indulgence we commend our cause,
And hope, yet dare not ask, your kind applause!
Since last we call'd these anxious hopes our own;
Now thrown on active life's tumultuous stage,
New fears, new cares, our busy thoughts engage;
But still our hearts, to early feelings true,
Cling to the cherish'd wish of pleasing you;
To your indulgence we commend our cause,
And hope, yet dare not ask, your kind applause!
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