Adelaide A Tragedy |
PROLOGUE. ADDRESS TO THE TRAGIC MUSE, WRITTEN BY
WILLIAM SOTHEBY, Esq. And Spoken by Mr. C. KEMBLE.
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viii
PROLOGUE. ADDRESS TO THE TRAGIC MUSE, WRITTEN BY WILLIAM SOTHEBY, Esq. And Spoken by Mr. C. KEMBLE.
Oh Thou! around whose throne, in awful state,
By Fear and Pity rang'd, the passions wait:
At whose commanding call, from every age,
Hosts swept by death from Nature's changeful stage;
Chiefs, and stern patriots, and the scepter'd train,
Rise from the tomb, and glow with life again!
Before thy lifted eye, th'Historic Muse
Presents the pageant of her passing views;
And, on the column of recording time,
Points sculptur'd groups of Virtue, Woe, and Crime.
By Fear and Pity rang'd, the passions wait:
At whose commanding call, from every age,
Hosts swept by death from Nature's changeful stage;
Chiefs, and stern patriots, and the scepter'd train,
Rise from the tomb, and glow with life again!
Before thy lifted eye, th'Historic Muse
Presents the pageant of her passing views;
And, on the column of recording time,
Points sculptur'd groups of Virtue, Woe, and Crime.
Tamer of Man! beneath thy boundless reign
Wild Fancy shapes her visionary train,
Embodies airy beings all her own,
And rules, with wizard wand, the world unknown;
Leagues the weird Sisters where the night-storm raves,
Drags howling spectres from reluctant graves;
Bids fear, with icy dew-drops, freeze the frame,
When horror broods o'er “deeds without a name;”
From realms of tortur'd spirits lifts the veil,
And half reveals th'unutterable tale.
Wild Fancy shapes her visionary train,
Embodies airy beings all her own,
And rules, with wizard wand, the world unknown;
Leagues the weird Sisters where the night-storm raves,
Drags howling spectres from reluctant graves;
Bids fear, with icy dew-drops, freeze the frame,
When horror broods o'er “deeds without a name;”
From realms of tortur'd spirits lifts the veil,
And half reveals th'unutterable tale.
Yet, sov'reign of the soul! thy sway refin'd,
Charms while it awes, afflicts, yet soothes the mind:
Guardian of moral sense, and feeling shame,
Firm guide of Virtue, mask'd in Pleasure's name:
Lo! on Guilt's glowing cheek, strange drops appear,
Where burns, like molten lead, the new-born tear:
Lull'd by thy voice, the painful struggles cease,
Mild Melancholy breathes returning peace;
Repentance forms a wish to be forgiv'n,
And Angels waft a pray'r half-breath'd to Heav'n.
Charms while it awes, afflicts, yet soothes the mind:
Guardian of moral sense, and feeling shame,
Firm guide of Virtue, mask'd in Pleasure's name:
Lo! on Guilt's glowing cheek, strange drops appear,
Where burns, like molten lead, the new-born tear:
ix
Mild Melancholy breathes returning peace;
Repentance forms a wish to be forgiv'n,
And Angels waft a pray'r half-breath'd to Heav'n.
Oh! while thy forceful strokes at will controul,
Or tender touches humanize the soul!
Send Terror forth, the vengeful goddess guide,
Tame the mad insolence of earthly pride;
Each dire vicissitude of life reveal,
Till trembling tyrants fear what wretches feel;
Send Pity forth, and while her suasive pow'r
Allures to woe the sadly-pleasing hour;
To cold Prosperity's strange gaze expose
The painful image of unnotic'd woes;
Nurse the soft sense that man to man endears,
And soothes the sufferer in the vale of tears.
Or tender touches humanize the soul!
Send Terror forth, the vengeful goddess guide,
Tame the mad insolence of earthly pride;
Each dire vicissitude of life reveal,
Till trembling tyrants fear what wretches feel;
Send Pity forth, and while her suasive pow'r
Allures to woe the sadly-pleasing hour;
To cold Prosperity's strange gaze expose
The painful image of unnotic'd woes;
Nurse the soft sense that man to man endears,
And soothes the sufferer in the vale of tears.
Fix'd on this base, our Poet rests his claim,
And wooes, in your applause, the voice of fame;
On English annals builds historic rhymes,
And calls the spirit forth of feudal times;
Such, as of old, to Syria's shouting coast
Led lion-hearted Richard's Christian host;
When England's King the red-cross flag unfurl'd,
And darken'd in its shade the Pagan world.
Such, as of late, in Heav'n's appointed hour,
Gaul's vaunted Idol drove from Acre's tow'r;
When Cross and Crescent in just league combin'd,
Smote, in his pride, the murderer of mankind:
While Albion's naval Hero foremost trod,
Scatter'd the Host that scorn'd the living God;
And Asia, rescu'd from th'Oppressor's might,
Hail'd Allah's name, and crown'd the “Christian Knight.”
And wooes, in your applause, the voice of fame;
On English annals builds historic rhymes,
And calls the spirit forth of feudal times;
Such, as of old, to Syria's shouting coast
Led lion-hearted Richard's Christian host;
When England's King the red-cross flag unfurl'd,
And darken'd in its shade the Pagan world.
Such, as of late, in Heav'n's appointed hour,
Gaul's vaunted Idol drove from Acre's tow'r;
When Cross and Crescent in just league combin'd,
Smote, in his pride, the murderer of mankind:
While Albion's naval Hero foremost trod,
Scatter'd the Host that scorn'd the living God;
And Asia, rescu'd from th'Oppressor's might,
Hail'd Allah's name, and crown'd the “Christian Knight.”
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