 | Almeyda, Queen of Granada |  |
5
PROLOGUE.
THE Muses long through many a varying age,
With truth and fiction mix'd, have grac'd the stage.
When weeping Constancy devoted stood,
Or patriot Honour seal'd his faith with blood,
They bade the deep-toned lyre responsive flow,
Sublimed the suffering, and diffused the woe;
Applauding Greece the numbers lov'd to hear,
And her stern warriors gave the graceful tear.
At length her venal train Corruption led,
And, with the Virtues link'd, the muses fled
O'er Albion's happy land they paus'd awhile,
And shed the favouring influence of their smile.
Her Henrys, Hotspurs, trod the martial scene,
And sir'd to heroes whom they sound but men.
Bold Shakespear pour'd th'invigorating strain,
And Rowe, and sweeter Otway, fill'd the train.
With truth and fiction mix'd, have grac'd the stage.
When weeping Constancy devoted stood,
Or patriot Honour seal'd his faith with blood,
They bade the deep-toned lyre responsive flow,
Sublimed the suffering, and diffused the woe;
Applauding Greece the numbers lov'd to hear,
And her stern warriors gave the graceful tear.
At length her venal train Corruption led,
And, with the Virtues link'd, the muses fled
O'er Albion's happy land they paus'd awhile,
And shed the favouring influence of their smile.
Her Henrys, Hotspurs, trod the martial scene,
And sir'd to heroes whom they sound but men.
Bold Shakespear pour'd th'invigorating strain,
And Rowe, and sweeter Otway, fill'd the train.
What if the modern bard no more aspire,
To rival Otway's sweetness, Shakespear's fire;
What if no laurel meed his altar claim,
His censer boast no heav'n-enkindled flame,
Yet if beneath the smould'ring vapour shine
But one faint glimmering of the spark divine,
Ah! gently fan the flame! lest Fashion's breath
O'er the pale promise send the blast of death;
Nor let the wreath Thalia only wear,
Her sister muse deserves so well to share.
'Tis her's the generous feeling to impart,
That mends the morals while it fills the heart:
Her's are the energies that best inform,
The sighs that animate, and tears that warm.
Within the magic sunshine of her eye,
Truth, Honour, Loyalty, and Valour lie;
To rival Otway's sweetness, Shakespear's fire;
What if no laurel meed his altar claim,
His censer boast no heav'n-enkindled flame,
Yet if beneath the smould'ring vapour shine
But one faint glimmering of the spark divine,
Ah! gently fan the flame! lest Fashion's breath
O'er the pale promise send the blast of death;
Nor let the wreath Thalia only wear,
Her sister muse deserves so well to share.
'Tis her's the generous feeling to impart,
That mends the morals while it fills the heart:
Her's are the energies that best inform,
The sighs that animate, and tears that warm.
Within the magic sunshine of her eye,
Truth, Honour, Loyalty, and Valour lie;
6
All the bold virtues that our sires approved,
And all that Britons boast, or Britons loved—
Then 'gainst the charm no more your bosom steel,
But own the manly privilege to feel.
Folly, and Vice, may oft in smiles appear,
But bashful Virtue veils her in a tear.
The broad, loud laugh, the mirth-inspiring jest,
Humour's wild frolic, and gay fancy's feast,
Like brilliant bubbles sparkle o'er the mind,
But burst, and leave no radiant gleam behind;
While the bright pencil of the tragic muse,
Her sacred rainbow draws o'er chilling dews;
And tho' to air the transient glories run,
They give the promise of a golden sun!
The Prologue and Epilogue were written by Miss
Harriet Lee.And all that Britons boast, or Britons loved—
Then 'gainst the charm no more your bosom steel,
But own the manly privilege to feel.
Folly, and Vice, may oft in smiles appear,
But bashful Virtue veils her in a tear.
The broad, loud laugh, the mirth-inspiring jest,
Humour's wild frolic, and gay fancy's feast,
Like brilliant bubbles sparkle o'er the mind,
But burst, and leave no radiant gleam behind;
While the bright pencil of the tragic muse,
Her sacred rainbow draws o'er chilling dews;
And tho' to air the transient glories run,
They give the promise of a golden sun!
| Almeyda, Queen of Granada | |