 | Fredolfo |  |
113
EPILOGUE, By A. A. WATTS, Esq.
SPOKEN BY MISS BRUNTON.[Speaks as entering.]
Now for my part!—nay, frown not on me so:
Good, gentle critic, smooth that ruffled brow;
Prithee, the lightning of your wrath delay
Until you've heard the little Pve to say!
Good, gentle critic, smooth that ruffled brow;
Prithee, the lightning of your wrath delay
Until you've heard the little Pve to say!
A few years since—the fashion is gone by
Like many others, though we know not why—
The Tragic Muse, I'm told, was judged by rules
From Nature drawn, not gathered from the schools;
And if she touched the heart had nought to fear
From the fool's scoff, or pedant's look severe.
Our censors now a different mode pursue,
Nor always yield the laurel wreath where due;
Some,—with bent brows and most portentous faces,
Spy out defects the author meant as graces,
“And quick condemn, without one qualm of conscience,
“Each daring thought as most egregious nonsense;”
Heedless the while, amid their work of slaughter,
That the best pearls lie in the deepest water!
“Fain would they stay all genius in its flight,
“Because it soars above and mocks their sight;
“The loftiest energies of mind restrain
“'Neath the dark link of caution's chilling chain,—
“And, owl-like, seek to blot the orb of day,
“Because their eyes are dazzled by its ray.”
Like many others, though we know not why—
The Tragic Muse, I'm told, was judged by rules
From Nature drawn, not gathered from the schools;
And if she touched the heart had nought to fear
From the fool's scoff, or pedant's look severe.
Our censors now a different mode pursue,
Nor always yield the laurel wreath where due;
Some,—with bent brows and most portentous faces,
Spy out defects the author meant as graces,
“And quick condemn, without one qualm of conscience,
“Each daring thought as most egregious nonsense;”
Heedless the while, amid their work of slaughter,
That the best pearls lie in the deepest water!
“Fain would they stay all genius in its flight,
“Because it soars above and mocks their sight;
“The loftiest energies of mind restrain
“'Neath the dark link of caution's chilling chain,—
“And, owl-like, seek to blot the orb of day,
“Because their eyes are dazzled by its ray.”
Others there are, so partial to a joke,
That sober reason seems to them a yoke;
And so to ease it, and produce a hit,
They make the bard—a whetstone to their wit!
True or untrue—no matter—they must say
A few smart things about him and his play;
For 'twould be hard if they for candour's sake
Must balk impromptus—it took weeks to make!
Thus hath our poet dangers twain to shun,
His Scylla ignorance,—his Charybdis fun;—
Yet, well assured that there are many here
From whose just judgment he has nought to fear,—
In whom, with knowledge and a taste refined,
Heaven's choicest gift! a noble heart, is join'd;—
And all encouraged by the tears and sighs
Vouchsafed from yon fair bosoms and bright eyes;
So that he 'scape the swell of that dark ocean—
That sea of heads, e'en now in fearful motion,—
To-morrow night he will respread his sail
(Grant ye, kind destinies, a favoring gale)
With talismanic art revive the slain,
And dare the ROCK and WHIRLPOOL o'er again.
That sober reason seems to them a yoke;
114
They make the bard—a whetstone to their wit!
True or untrue—no matter—they must say
A few smart things about him and his play;
For 'twould be hard if they for candour's sake
Must balk impromptus—it took weeks to make!
Thus hath our poet dangers twain to shun,
His Scylla ignorance,—his Charybdis fun;—
Yet, well assured that there are many here
From whose just judgment he has nought to fear,—
In whom, with knowledge and a taste refined,
Heaven's choicest gift! a noble heart, is join'd;—
And all encouraged by the tears and sighs
Vouchsafed from yon fair bosoms and bright eyes;
So that he 'scape the swell of that dark ocean—
That sea of heads, e'en now in fearful motion,—
To-morrow night he will respread his sail
(Grant ye, kind destinies, a favoring gale)
With talismanic art revive the slain,
And dare the ROCK and WHIRLPOOL o'er again.
| Fredolfo | |