University of Virginia Library

PROLOGUE, Written by Mr. Beckingham, and spoken by Mr. Walker.

The Task of Learning is to search Mankind,
And one chief Lot to Poetry's assign'd;
Deep-vers'd in Arts, the moralizing Sage,
With rigid Maxims swells the labour'd Page:
The Sons of Verse in freer Strains impart
The useful Beauties of their deathless Art:
They even Time's defacing Hand subdue,
Redeem great Heroes past, to model new.
Wake Freedom's bold Assertors from the Grave,
To shew that Death itself wants Pow'r t'enslave,
Or shadow the vast Fame their godlike Actions gave.
Let Tyrants rule, or Factions basely storm,
At their enliv'ning Call, the Dead reform;
The Patriot and the Bondsman plead their Claim
To second Glory, or to second Shame.
Our Author dares these dang'rous Heights pursue,
But, Fair-Ones, for Success, relies on you.
To the Stern Critick's Spleen we scorn to trust,
You're the best Judges, you are ever just.
A Maiden Muse here makes her bold Essay,
If Beauty be her Shield, she wins the Day.
The present swelling Scene of Woe displays,
In all its Stretch of Guilt, Ambition's Blaze;
Shews, how two rash, two glitt'ring Sons of Earth
Ignobly plead the Merit of their Birth;
With impious Arms, and rival Claims contend
For Empire, neither can with Worth ascend.
These Themes afford but Wonder to your Eyes,
More tender Objects to your Pity rise:
Behold a Mother and a Queen appears
Majestick thro' the Weight of Grief and Years!
Behold her o'er her bleeding Kingdom mourn!
Her Royal Breast with Patriot Anguish torn!
She sees her Offspring's Guilt, her Country's Sore,
Her Sons she pities much, her People more.
Ne'er can such Pangs as these (we hope) appear
Ungrateful Subjects to a British Ear.
Our Clime's Security we boast in vain,
Fenc'd with the Rocks, and girded with the Main;
'Tis our own Zeal must guard the happy Coast,
Its Bulwarks sink indeed, when that great Ardor's lost.