• When the fatal trump fhall found, • When th' immortals pour around, • Heav'n fhall thy return attest, Hail'd by myriads of the blefs'd.
• Little native of the skies, • Lovely penitent, arise;
⚫ Calm thy bofom, clear thy brow, • Virtue is thy fifter now!
• More delightful are my woes, Than the rapture pleasure knows; • Richer far the weeds I bring, Than the robes that grace a king.
On my wars of fhortest date,
• Crowns of endless triumph wait ;
On my cares, a period bless'd;
On my toils, eternal rest.
• Come, with Virtue at thy fide;
Come! be ev'ry bar defy'd,
• Till we gain our native shore;
Sifter, come, and turn no more!'
BY MR. CHARLES CHURCHILL.
OSCIUS deceas'd, each high-afpiring play'r
Pufh'd all his int'reft for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimick stage
No longer whine in Love, and rant in rage;
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The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's fake tells undeferv'd mishaps,
And their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a fuppliant's form affume;
In pompous ftrain fight o'er th' extinguish'd war,
And fhew where honour bled in ev'ry fcar.
But tho' bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way,
And they will beft fucceed, who best can pay :
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Muft add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In ev'ry age
Cash hath been rudely banifh'd from the ftage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of ev'ry play'r,
Appear as often as their image there;
They can't, like candidate for other feat,
Pour feas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as foon;
And of Roast Beef they only know the tune:
But what they have, they give; could Clive do more,
Tho' for each million he had brought home four ?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there.
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat,
For those who laughter love instead of meat.
Foote, at Old Houfe, for even Foote will be
In felf-conceit an actor, bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinfon at second-hand receives,
And at the New pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs fev'ral ways,
As paffion, humour, int'reft, party fways,
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chofen, or a patch misplac'd,
Conciliate favour, or create diftaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praifes-he's fo droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have, fomething smart;
Palmer! O Palmer tops the janty part!
Seated in pit, the dwarf with aching eyes
Looks up, and vows that Barry's out of size;
Whilft to fix feet the vig'rous fripling grown,
Declares that Garrick is another Coan.
When place of judgment is, by whim supply'd,
And our opinions have their rife in pride;
When, in difcourfing on each mimick elf,
We praise and cenfure with an eye to self,
All must meet friends, and Ackman bids as fair,
In fuch a court, as Garrick for the chair.
At length agreed all fquabbles to decide,
By fome one judge the caufe was to be try'd:
But this their fquabbles did afresh renew;
Who fhould be judge in fuch a trial-who?
For Johnson fome; but Johnson, it was fear'd,
Would be too grave--and Sterne too gay appcar'd.
Others for Francklin voted; but 'twas known,
He ficken'd at all triumphs but his own.
For Colman many; but the peevish tongue
Of prudent age, found out that he was young.
For Murphy fome few pilf'ring wits declar'd,
Whilft Folly clapp'd her hands, and Wifdom ftar'd.
To mischief train'd, e'en from his mother's womb,.
Grown old in fraud, tho' yet in manhood's bloom;
Adopting arts by which
by which gay villains rife,
And reach the heights which honeft men despise;
Mute at the bar, and in the fenate loud;
Dull 'mongst the dulleft, proudeft of the proud;
A pert, prim prater, of the northern race,
Guilt in his heart, and famine in his face,
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