Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade, Lay siege to life, and press the dire blockade ; But unextinguish'd av'rice still remains, And dreaded losses aggravate his pains; He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands, His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands; Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies. But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime; An age that melts with unperceiv'd decay, And glides in modest innocence away; Whose peaceful day Benevolence endears, Whose night congratulating Conscience cheers; The gen❜ral fav'rite as the genʼral friend; Such age there is, and who shall wish its end? Yet e'en on this her load Misfortune flings, To press the weary minutes' flagging wings; New sorrow rises as the day returns, A sister sickens, or a daughter mourns. Now kindred Merit fills the sable bier, Now lacerated friendship claims a tear; Year chases year, decay pursues decay, Still drops some joy from with'ring life away; New forms arise, and diff'rent views engage, Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage, Till pitying Nature signs the last release, And bids afflicted worth retire to peace. But few there are whom hours like these await, Who set unclouded in the gulfs of fate. From Lydia's monarch should the search descend, In life's last scene what prodigies surprise, From Marlb'rough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, * The teeming mother, anxious for her race, e; By day the frolic, and the dance by night; What care, what rules, your heedless charms shall save, Less heard and less, the faint remonstrance falls ; * Ver. 289-345. * Where then shall Hope and Fear their objects find? Must dull suspence corrupt the stagnant mind? Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate? Which Heav'n may hear, nor deem Religion vain. But leave to Heav'n the measure and the choice. Safe in his pow'r, whose eyes discern afar These goods for man the laws of Heav'n ordain, With these celestial Wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness she does not find. * Ver. 346-366. PROLOGUE, SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, AT THE OPENING OF THE THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE, 1747. WHEN Learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes Then Jonson came, instructed from the school, For those, who durst not censure, scarce could praise. But left, like Egypt's kings, a lasting tomb. The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame, Nor wish'd for Jonson's art, or Shakspeare's flame, Themselves they studied, as they felt they writ; Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit. |