 | Alfred |  |
PROLOGUE.
By a FRIEND.Spoken by Mr. GARRICK.
In
arms renown'd, for arts of peace ador'd,
Alfred, the nation's father, more than lord,
A British author has presum'd to draw,
Struck deep, even now, with reverential awe;
And sets the godlike figure fair in view—
O may discernment find the likeness true.
Alfred, the nation's father, more than lord,
A British author has presum'd to draw,
Struck deep, even now, with reverential awe;
And sets the godlike figure fair in view—
O may discernment find the likeness true.
When Danish fury, with wide-wasting hand,
Had spread pale fear, and ravage o'er the land,
This prince arising bade confusion cease,
Bade order shine, and blest his isle with peace;
Taught liberal arts to humanize the mind,
And heaven-born science to sweet freedom join'd.
United thus, the friendly sisters shone,
And one secur'd, while one adorn'd, his throne.
Amidst these honors of his happy reign,
Each Grace and every Muse compos'd his train:
As grateful servants, all exulting strove,
At once to spread his fame, and share his love.
Had spread pale fear, and ravage o'er the land,
This prince arising bade confusion cease,
Bade order shine, and blest his isle with peace;
Taught liberal arts to humanize the mind,
And heaven-born science to sweet freedom join'd.
United thus, the friendly sisters shone,
And one secur'd, while one adorn'd, his throne.
Amidst these honors of his happy reign,
Each Grace and every Muse compos'd his train:
As grateful servants, all exulting strove,
At once to spread his fame, and share his love.
To night, if aught of fiction you behold,
Think not, in Virtue's cause, the bard too bold.
If ever angels from the skies descend,
It must be—truth and freedom to defend.
Think not, in Virtue's cause, the bard too bold.
If ever angels from the skies descend,
It must be—truth and freedom to defend.
Thus would our author please—be it your part,
If not his labors, to approve his heart.
True to his country's, and to honor's cause,
He fixes, there, his fame, and your applause;
Wishes no failing from your sight to hide,
But, by free Britons, will be freely try'd.
If not his labors, to approve his heart.
True to his country's, and to honor's cause,
He fixes, there, his fame, and your applause;
Wishes no failing from your sight to hide,
But, by free Britons, will be freely try'd.
| Alfred | |