A collection of poems on various subjects including the theatre, a didactic essay; in the course of which are pointed out, the rocks and shoals to which deluded adventurers are inevitably exposed. Ornamented with cuts and illustrated with notes, original letters and curious incidental anecdotes [by Samuel Whyte] |
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MR. WILDER'S FAREWELL EPILOGUE |
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 | A collection of poems on various subjects |  |
93
MR. WILDER'S FAREWELL EPILOGUE
FRIDAY, MAY XVITH, MDCCLXXXVIII.
Twice sixteen winters,—yes, just twice sixteen,—
A faithful servant on your boards I have been;
Heroes and heroines, many in my time,
Some in their wane, but more before their prime,
I have seen to misery, nay, to death consign'd,
And of their worth no trace remains behind.
To-night, my turn to be forgotten near,
Concludes my fond theatrical career.
Yet ere I quit this tragi-comic walk,
Indulge your hoary veteran with a talk—
A moral may start forth, no doubt you'll catch it,
At least I promise not to fling the hatchet.—
So Nestor, small things to compare with great,
Unfit for combat, was reduced to prate;
Adventurous youth with cautions he supplies,
And, taught by his experience, they grow wise.
A faithful servant on your boards I have been;
Heroes and heroines, many in my time,
Some in their wane, but more before their prime,
I have seen to misery, nay, to death consign'd,
And of their worth no trace remains behind.
To-night, my turn to be forgotten near,
Concludes my fond theatrical career.
Yet ere I quit this tragi-comic walk,
Indulge your hoary veteran with a talk—
A moral may start forth, no doubt you'll catch it,
At least I promise not to fling the hatchet.—
So Nestor, small things to compare with great,
Unfit for combat, was reduced to prate;
Adventurous youth with cautions he supplies,
And, taught by his experience, they grow wise.
94
Despoil'd of rule in unauspicious hour,
When the first Thomas was restored to pow'r,
Who stemm'd the torrent of licentious rage,
Promoted order and reform'd the stage,
With him, oblig'd to call in foreign aid,
My first campaign on this lov'd soil I made:
Pitch'd battles twenty I successive fought,
And ample treasures to his coffers brought;
For years, encourag'd by your kind support,
I kept my post; the Captain was my forte.
Did e'er, what will not Time! Macheath show dull,
I reinforc'd him with the Cock-and-Bull.
Thus the old Bard, if fame record not wrong,
Revived the Spartan glory with a song;
And with, like him, the Oracle to arm her,
My other-self drew crowds, to see—her Charmer.
When the first Thomas was restored to pow'r,
Who stemm'd the torrent of licentious rage,
Promoted order and reform'd the stage,
With him, oblig'd to call in foreign aid,
My first campaign on this lov'd soil I made:
Pitch'd battles twenty I successive fought,
And ample treasures to his coffers brought;
For years, encourag'd by your kind support,
I kept my post; the Captain was my forte.
Did e'er, what will not Time! Macheath show dull,
I reinforc'd him with the Cock-and-Bull.
Thus the old Bard, if fame record not wrong,
Revived the Spartan glory with a song;
And with, like him, the Oracle to arm her,
My other-self drew crowds, to see—her Charmer.
What time impetuous Harry fill'd the throne,
The man I serv'd; his cause I made my own.
In the brief course of his successless reign,
I broke a limb; was twelve times prisoner ta'en;
And, tho' to honours and distinction us'd,
Like Belisarius, I the crown refus'd:
Secure in adverse gales—tho' weak my parts—
To find a safe asylum in your hearts.
Fir'd with that hope, these boards I dauntless trod,
Where glorious Spranger shone the leading God!
Nor when the second Thomas lost the field
Did I retreat; your favour was my shield.
Those days, Heaven knows! of toil and peril past,
Like a worn troop-horse, now you see me cast—
Yet Oldboy still and Benbow to the last.
The man I serv'd; his cause I made my own.
In the brief course of his successless reign,
I broke a limb; was twelve times prisoner ta'en;
And, tho' to honours and distinction us'd,
Like Belisarius, I the crown refus'd:
Secure in adverse gales—tho' weak my parts—
To find a safe asylum in your hearts.
Fir'd with that hope, these boards I dauntless trod,
Where glorious Spranger shone the leading God!
95
Did I retreat; your favour was my shield.
Those days, Heaven knows! of toil and peril past,
Like a worn troop-horse, now you see me cast—
Yet Oldboy still and Benbow to the last.
As great folks use, to rest I now retire,
My little garden and my cheerful fire;
No more a player—the only part I can,
I'll act till death, and be—the honest man;
Content to tread the calmer scenes of life,
Bless'd with good children and a virtuous wife:
To warm their hearts, I'll daily call to view
The gratitude I feel—I owe to you—
Still, as I may, disposed to your commands—
The curtain drops—dismiss me with your hands.
My little garden and my cheerful fire;
No more a player—the only part I can,
I'll act till death, and be—the honest man;
Content to tread the calmer scenes of life,
Bless'd with good children and a virtuous wife:
To warm their hearts, I'll daily call to view
The gratitude I feel—I owe to you—
Still, as I may, disposed to your commands—
The curtain drops—dismiss me with your hands.
| A collection of poems on various subjects | |