 | Works (1776) |  |
201
EPILOGUE TO LILLO's ELMERICK.
You, who, supreme o'er every work of wit,
In judgement here, unaw'd, unbiass'd, sit,
The palatines and guardians of the pit;
If to your minds this merely modern play
No useful sense, no generous warmth convey;
If fustian here, through each unnatural scene,
In strain'd conceits sound high, and nothing mean;
If lofty dullness for your vengeance call;
Like Elmerick judge, and let the guilty fall.
But if simplicity, with force and fire,
Unlabour'd thoughts and artless words inspire;
If, like the action which these scenes relate,
The whole appear irregularly great;
If master-strokes the nobler passions move:
Then, like the king, acquit us, and approve.
In judgement here, unaw'd, unbiass'd, sit,
The palatines and guardians of the pit;
If to your minds this merely modern play
No useful sense, no generous warmth convey;
If fustian here, through each unnatural scene,
In strain'd conceits sound high, and nothing mean;
If lofty dullness for your vengeance call;
Like Elmerick judge, and let the guilty fall.
But if simplicity, with force and fire,
Unlabour'd thoughts and artless words inspire;
If, like the action which these scenes relate,
The whole appear irregularly great;
If master-strokes the nobler passions move:
Then, like the king, acquit us, and approve.
| Works (1776) | |