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AN EPITAPH ON DAVID GARRICK.
  
  
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AN EPITAPH ON DAVID GARRICK.

THE frost prevailing of a barbarous age,
Bœtian fogs impended on our stage;
When Shakespeare's genius, with a flood of light,
Dispelled the darkness of dramatick night:

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With a new blaze our skies this comet fired;
The fathers wondered;—but the sons admired.
Beneath it's influence; by it's powerful aid,
Our hearts, and minds completely were displayed;
Guilt fled, affrighted, from it's piercing ray;
But virtue courted it's propitious day.
By him, from nature is her sceptre torne;
Yet, on her plan, he peoples worlds unborn:
Hence pleased we view the monster of his Isle,
Contrasted with Miranda's magick smile:
The dapper elves adorn the lunar scene;
And suck the flower, or skim along the green.
But honest time must fix the poet's claim;
Must conquer malice, and perpetuate fame:
Milton, and Dryden, urged the publick praise,
By Pope led captive, with seraphick lays.
Yet the first power of Avon's swan was great;
Great was his rising, his deciding fate:
His early glory fired the coldest heart;
Even Ben despised his learning, and his art;

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Shakespeare subdued the critick's rugged mind;
Still more victorious in an age refined,
Inspiring Garrick, he subdued mankind.
Lesbury, Oct. 2d, 1799.