 | Boadicia |  |
PROLOGUE. Spoken by Mr. Mossop.
Beside
his native Thames our poet long
Hath hung his silent harp, and hush'd his song.
Kind Commerce whisper'd. “See my blissful state,
“And to no smiles but mine resign thy fate.
“Beneath the pregnant branches rest awhile,
“Which by my culture spread this favour'd isle;
“On that fair tree the fruits of ev'ry coast,
“All, which the Ganges and the Volga boast,
“All, which the sun's luxuriant beam supplies,
“Or slowly ripens under frozen skies,
“In mix'd variety of growth arise.
“The copious leaves beneficence diffuse,
“Which on affliction drops restoring dews,
“And birds of hope among the loaded sprays
“Tune with enchantment their alluring lays
“To cheer despondence and th'inactive raise.
“Rest bore, she cry'd, and smiling time again
“May string thy lyre, and I approve the strain.”
Hath hung his silent harp, and hush'd his song.
Kind Commerce whisper'd. “See my blissful state,
“And to no smiles but mine resign thy fate.
“Beneath the pregnant branches rest awhile,
“Which by my culture spread this favour'd isle;
“On that fair tree the fruits of ev'ry coast,
“All, which the Ganges and the Volga boast,
“All, which the sun's luxuriant beam supplies,
“Or slowly ripens under frozen skies,
“In mix'd variety of growth arise.
“The copious leaves beneficence diffuse,
“Which on affliction drops restoring dews,
“And birds of hope among the loaded sprays
“Tune with enchantment their alluring lays
“To cheer despondence and th'inactive raise.
“Rest bore, she cry'd, and smiling time again
“May string thy lyre, and I approve the strain.”
At length his muse from exile he recalls,
Urg'd by his patrons in Augusta's walls.
Those gen'rous traders, who alike sustain
Their nation's glory on th'obedient main,
And bounteous raise affliction's drooping train.
They, who benignant to his toils afford
Their shelt'ring favour, have his muse restor'd.
They in her future fame will justly share,
But her disgrace herself must singly bear;
Calm hours of learned leisure they have giv'n,
And could no more, for genius is from heav'n.
Urg'd by his patrons in Augusta's walls.
Those gen'rous traders, who alike sustain
Their nation's glory on th'obedient main,
And bounteous raise affliction's drooping train.
They, who benignant to his toils afford
Their shelt'ring favour, have his muse restor'd.
They in her future fame will justly share,
But her disgrace herself must singly bear;
And could no more, for genius is from heav'n.
To open now her long-hid roll she tries,
When vary'd forms of pictur'd passions rise.
Revenge and pride their furies first unfold,
By artless virtue fatally controll'd.
Scenes wrought with gentler pencils then succeed,
Where love persuades a faithful wife to bleed;
Where, join'd to publick cares, domestic woe
Is seen from manly fortitude to flow.
But if her colours mock the candid eye
By spurious tincts, unmix'd with nature's dye,
Ye friendly hands, restrain your fruitless aid,
And with just censure let her labours fade.
When vary'd forms of pictur'd passions rise.
Revenge and pride their furies first unfold,
By artless virtue fatally controll'd.
Scenes wrought with gentler pencils then succeed,
Where love persuades a faithful wife to bleed;
Where, join'd to publick cares, domestic woe
Is seen from manly fortitude to flow.
But if her colours mock the candid eye
By spurious tincts, unmix'd with nature's dye,
Ye friendly hands, restrain your fruitless aid,
And with just censure let her labours fade.
| Boadicia | |