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PROLOGUE. Spoken by Mr. BARRY.
  

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PROLOGUE. Spoken by Mr. BARRY.

Britons, To-night in native Pomp we come,
True Heroes all, from virtuous ancient Rome;
In those far distant Times when Romans knew
The Sweets of guarded Liberty, like You;
And, safe from Ills which Force or Faction brings,
Saw Freedom reign beneath the Smile of Kings.
Yet from such Times, and such plain Chiefs as these,
What can we frame a polish'd Age to please?
Say, can you listen to the artless Woes
Of an old Tale, which every School-boy knows?
Where to your Hearts alone the Scenes apply,
No Merit their's but pure Simplicity.
Our Bard has play'd a most adventurous Part,
And turn'd upon himself the Critic's Art:
Stripp'd each luxuriant Plume from Fancy's Wings,
And torn up Similies like vulgar Things.
Nay even each Moral, Sentimental, Stroke,
Where not the Character but Poet spoke,
He lopp'd, as foreign to his chaste Design;
Nor spar'd an useless tho' a golden Line.
These are his Arts; if these cannot atone
For all those nameless Errors yet unknown,
If shanning Faults which nobler Bards commit,
He wants their Force to strike th'attentive Pit,
Be just and tell him so; he asks Advice,
Willing to learn, and would not ask it twice.
Your kind Applause may bid him write—beware!
Or kinder Censure teach him to forbear.