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Article STRICTURES ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. ← Page 3 of 5 →
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Strictures On Public Amusements.
lis did we not declare , that it fully merited that applause with which it was received . There is much point and great neatness in the writing , and " The Glorious First of June" must add to Mr . Cobb ' s fame , as ithas done to the fame of Old England . The following Prologue ( from the pen of Mr . Richardson ) was admirably delivered by Mr . Kemble . OF all the virtues which enamour'd Fame
Connects for ever with a Briton ' s name , None sounds more sweetly from her trump than thee , Thou first best excellence , Humanity . Say , shall a light , which , from its beaming sphere , Dispels the mist of sad Misfortune ' s te ar , Pierces the worst abodes where mis ' ries haunt , And cheers the languid eye of drooping want - , ' Shall it to-night with feebler lustre shine ,
When Justice joins her rites at Pity ' s shrine ; No : —ev'ry eye , in gen ' rous drops bedew'd , Shall own that bounty here is gratitude . Ye hapless orphans , doom'd no more to share The fond protection of a father ' s care ! Ye widow'd mourners doom'd no more to know , The shelt ' ring kindness which the brave bestow 1 Your sacred griefs you do not bear alone , For in each British heart your sorrows are their own . Ye gallant spirits who to Heav ' n are fled ,
Now rank'd , now honour'd with the glorious dead , . If of your former being aught survive , And Mem ' ry holds her dear prerogative , How will your heighten'd natures joy to see Old England safe—Old England safe arid free ! Sav'd by that valour which , dismiss'd from earth , Claims from above the meed of patriot worth : These the grae'd ornaments that deck your bier ,
The brave man ' s sigh , and gentle beauty ' s tear . Glory itself at such a shrine may bow , And what is glory but a name for HOWE ? Touch'd by her hand , the victor ' s wreaths assume A fresher verdure and a richer bloom . As when the sun impetuous pours his ray , And dazzles nature with redundant day , If on some lonely spot his beams he throws ,
Where , dress'd in sweets , retires the bashful rose , We feel his soften'd beauty in the flow ' r , And love his mildness while we own his pow ' r . — . Divided eulogy this night imparts To British spirit , and to British hearts ; Those who assert their sov ' reign country ' s cause , Those who crown valour with its best applause : Alike in cherish'd memory shall live , They who have won the laurel ! you who give .
We add , also , the following lines , which were written by Mr . Pye , the Poet Laureat , and sent to Drury-Lane Theatre , with the intention of having them spoken on the above occasion . WHILE Britain raises , with triumphant hand , The naval trophy to her warlike band ; - Who from old Ocean ' s wave her rivals sweep , Or whelm their hostile squadrons in the deep—
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Strictures On Public Amusements.
lis did we not declare , that it fully merited that applause with which it was received . There is much point and great neatness in the writing , and " The Glorious First of June" must add to Mr . Cobb ' s fame , as ithas done to the fame of Old England . The following Prologue ( from the pen of Mr . Richardson ) was admirably delivered by Mr . Kemble . OF all the virtues which enamour'd Fame
Connects for ever with a Briton ' s name , None sounds more sweetly from her trump than thee , Thou first best excellence , Humanity . Say , shall a light , which , from its beaming sphere , Dispels the mist of sad Misfortune ' s te ar , Pierces the worst abodes where mis ' ries haunt , And cheers the languid eye of drooping want - , ' Shall it to-night with feebler lustre shine ,
When Justice joins her rites at Pity ' s shrine ; No : —ev'ry eye , in gen ' rous drops bedew'd , Shall own that bounty here is gratitude . Ye hapless orphans , doom'd no more to share The fond protection of a father ' s care ! Ye widow'd mourners doom'd no more to know , The shelt ' ring kindness which the brave bestow 1 Your sacred griefs you do not bear alone , For in each British heart your sorrows are their own . Ye gallant spirits who to Heav ' n are fled ,
Now rank'd , now honour'd with the glorious dead , . If of your former being aught survive , And Mem ' ry holds her dear prerogative , How will your heighten'd natures joy to see Old England safe—Old England safe arid free ! Sav'd by that valour which , dismiss'd from earth , Claims from above the meed of patriot worth : These the grae'd ornaments that deck your bier ,
The brave man ' s sigh , and gentle beauty ' s tear . Glory itself at such a shrine may bow , And what is glory but a name for HOWE ? Touch'd by her hand , the victor ' s wreaths assume A fresher verdure and a richer bloom . As when the sun impetuous pours his ray , And dazzles nature with redundant day , If on some lonely spot his beams he throws ,
Where , dress'd in sweets , retires the bashful rose , We feel his soften'd beauty in the flow ' r , And love his mildness while we own his pow ' r . — . Divided eulogy this night imparts To British spirit , and to British hearts ; Those who assert their sov ' reign country ' s cause , Those who crown valour with its best applause : Alike in cherish'd memory shall live , They who have won the laurel ! you who give .
We add , also , the following lines , which were written by Mr . Pye , the Poet Laureat , and sent to Drury-Lane Theatre , with the intention of having them spoken on the above occasion . WHILE Britain raises , with triumphant hand , The naval trophy to her warlike band ; - Who from old Ocean ' s wave her rivals sweep , Or whelm their hostile squadrons in the deep—