Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems by the late Thomas Haynes Bayly; Edited by his Widow. With A Memoir of the Author. In Two Volumes |
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A PROLOGUE TO AN AMATEUR PLAY,
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 | Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems |  |
A PROLOGUE TO AN AMATEUR PLAY,
PERFORMED AT BATH, IN AID OF A CHARITY.
Another prologue?—zounds! let others speak,
I spoke a prologue, Sirs, last Friday week.
Besides, I'm Romeo, feathers, frills and all,
Equipt for Lady Sykes's fancy ball!
Well, if it must be so, I'll e'en commence,
And speak of motives and benevolence,
Of first attempts, and fears, and arduous parts,
And debutants with palpitating hearts;
And I'll just hint, before the play begins,
Charity hides a multitude of sins.
Blame not the novice for his want of skill,
Ye critics, say not he is acting ill;
May those relieved by this night's profit tell
That we, at least for once, have acted well.
Then wherefore should I labour to excite
A charitable feeling here to-night?
It is in charity we face you thus:
Then pray look down with charity on us.
Who would not take a part in such a cause,
Then take our parts and give us your applause.
I spoke a prologue, Sirs, last Friday week.
Besides, I'm Romeo, feathers, frills and all,
Equipt for Lady Sykes's fancy ball!
Well, if it must be so, I'll e'en commence,
And speak of motives and benevolence,
Of first attempts, and fears, and arduous parts,
And debutants with palpitating hearts;
And I'll just hint, before the play begins,
Charity hides a multitude of sins.
Blame not the novice for his want of skill,
Ye critics, say not he is acting ill;
May those relieved by this night's profit tell
That we, at least for once, have acted well.
Then wherefore should I labour to excite
A charitable feeling here to-night?
It is in charity we face you thus:
Then pray look down with charity on us.
Who would not take a part in such a cause,
Then take our parts and give us your applause.
110
Your plaudits give me confidence, and yet
'Tis strange, I almost hear them with regret.
This season—which in radiant pride appears,
After the twinkling lights of former years—
This brilliant season, so supremely graced
With rank, wealth, worth, with beauty, talent, taste,
Is drawing to a close, and those I fear
Who linger still to aid our efforts here,
Will soon be packing trunks and ordering chaises,
And seeking rival scenes, and gathering daisies.
Yet ere you seek sea breezes, deign to cast
One hearty glance on mirthful moments past.
Confess that pleasure reigns despotic here,
And promise to come back again next year.
'Tis strange, I almost hear them with regret.
This season—which in radiant pride appears,
After the twinkling lights of former years—
This brilliant season, so supremely graced
With rank, wealth, worth, with beauty, talent, taste,
Is drawing to a close, and those I fear
Who linger still to aid our efforts here,
Will soon be packing trunks and ordering chaises,
And seeking rival scenes, and gathering daisies.
Yet ere you seek sea breezes, deign to cast
One hearty glance on mirthful moments past.
Confess that pleasure reigns despotic here,
And promise to come back again next year.
Farewell—but let me offer, ere we part,
Earnest good wishes, spoken from the heart.
Some during the past season have it seems,
Arranged some little matrimonial schemes,
And now dream every night of turtle doves,
Of wedding favours, cake and white kid gloves.
Oh, may they all be happy, and possess
Bliss far beyond their single blessedness.
Reside in Bath from January to June,
And find in every month a honeymoon.
May the town prosper, may the wealthy aid
With liberal hand her charities and trade;
And whilst her leading stars combine to plot
New sports to animate this favoured spot—
Oh! may the counter-plot be just as pleasant,
And the Town Hall be merry as the Crescent.
May fashion still strew roses in our path,
And each year add prosperity to Bath.
Earnest good wishes, spoken from the heart.
Some during the past season have it seems,
Arranged some little matrimonial schemes,
And now dream every night of turtle doves,
Of wedding favours, cake and white kid gloves.
Oh, may they all be happy, and possess
Bliss far beyond their single blessedness.
Reside in Bath from January to June,
And find in every month a honeymoon.
May the town prosper, may the wealthy aid
With liberal hand her charities and trade;
And whilst her leading stars combine to plot
New sports to animate this favoured spot—
Oh! may the counter-plot be just as pleasant,
And the Town Hall be merry as the Crescent.
May fashion still strew roses in our path,
And each year add prosperity to Bath.
| Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems | |