 | The Mournful Nuptials, or Love the Cure of all Woes |  |
xvi
THE PROLOGUE.
Whene'er
Lucilius, as with sword in hand,
Lash'd with his pen the monsters of the land,
The hearer's, and the reader's, cheeks were spread
With conscious blushes, as their crimes were red,
The practicer of vice, the canker'd heart,
Felt, from the secret guilt within, a smart;
Yet with their virtue loss'd they not their shame;
Nor punish'd him from whom the satire came.
Lash'd with his pen the monsters of the land,
The hearer's, and the reader's, cheeks were spread
With conscious blushes, as their crimes were red,
The practicer of vice, the canker'd heart,
Felt, from the secret guilt within, a smart;
Yet with their virtue loss'd they not their shame;
Nor punish'd him from whom the satire came.
IN modern times, where rule is held by might,
Where will is law, and law must pass for right,
Where impious men consult their private gain,
And not the glory of their prince's reign,
Speak not of men unfaithful to their trust,
Tho spoke of nations ages pass'd in dust;
A word draws vengeance on an author's back:
O! name not darkness; for their deeds are black!
Where will is law, and law must pass for right,
Where impious men consult their private gain,
And not the glory of their prince's reign,
Speak not of men unfaithful to their trust,
Tho spoke of nations ages pass'd in dust;
A word draws vengeance on an author's back:
O! name not darkness; for their deeds are black!
xvii
THESE scenes the woes of no exalted state
Present, nor satire to alarm the great:
Here love and friendship share an equal part,
To call soft pity from the tender heart:
The pious tear here filial duty sheds,
And weds awhile to sorrow when she weds;
Her virtuous griefs, by love supported, flow,
And find relief alone from Cupid's bow.
Present, nor satire to alarm the great:
Here love and friendship share an equal part,
To call soft pity from the tender heart:
The pious tear here filial duty sheds,
And weds awhile to sorrow when she weds;
Her virtuous griefs, by love supported, flow,
And find relief alone from Cupid's bow.
| The Mournful Nuptials, or Love the Cure of all Woes | |