University of Virginia Library

EPILOGUE, by Coll. Codrington.

Our Bard shall end to night, as He began,
Prologue, Play, Epilogue shall speak the Man,
Shew a more Tragick Poet if you can.
With Pride he owns that he would gain your Hearts,
But he will use no little Whorish Arts.
With Pride he owns, that 'tis his glorious Aim
To court and to possess the Tragick Dame.
How can he court, or how can he possess,
Who shames the Goddess by a forein Dress?
That decks her like a trivial merry Muse,
Or a rank Strumpet, strolling from the Stews.
Yet thus disguis'd she oft has here been shown,
To all her genuine Votaries unknown,
Yet still you thought the motly Garb her own.
Oft have you seen her with the Comick Muse,
Walk hand in hand, Grimace and Posture use,
Debase her Majesty and Terror lose.
What needs such Art your kind Applause to win
What need such Farce to drive away your Spleen,
Who thus are pleas'd have Farce enough within.
Our Bard resolves to steer a diff'rent Course,
Aud travel upwards to the Grecian Source.
Where he at first saw the chast, awful Maid,
And with observing Eyes her Charms survey'd.
Those Charms he would with a bold hand express,
Nor make 'em fainter by an English Dress.
To please the Great, the Gen'rous, and the Fair,
Shall ever be his Pride, and be his Care.
Next he would stand the knowing Criticks Test,
To Fortune unconcern'd he leaves the rest.
For well he knows the Ignorant and the Base
Scatter in waste their Censure and their Praise.