Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
To Hope.
"When the pale lamp of life expires , When reason calm , and fancy ' s fires , Have left my panting breast ; O 1 still , my lovely cherub , stay , Ajid bear my parting souf away To realms of endless rest . J . TV ,
Prologue To Werter,
PROLOGUE TO WERTER ,
A TRAGEDY BY MR . REYNOLDS , FIRST SPOKEN AT THE THEATF . E ROYAL , HULL , . JULY 3 , 178 ; . WRITTEN BY J . F . STANFIELD .
WITHIN the glooms of yonder somb'rous grove . In cypress bow'r with myrtles interwove , Sits sadly sorrowing ' thc Tragic Muse , As her stain'd eye the tale of woe pursues ; The feeling . tale , that does the . scene disclose Of Werter ' s sorrows and of Charlotte's woes ; Of hapless Werte ' r torn by keenest smart ,
And wretched Charlotte's sympathising heart . Long o ' er the page the goddess bent her eye , Gave ev ' ry woe a tear , each grief a sigh , 'Till , whelm'd with grief , the volume from her threw ., And from her trembling lips these accents fiew : — " Shall my encroaching sisters still profane " The rightful subjects of my hallow'd . strain ? " Shali they presumptuous seize on Werter ' s woe
, " And impious bid his sacred sorrows flow ? " See History ascend my ebon throne , " And rend the heart with accents not her own ! " See Sculpture tremblingly the marble turn , " Where Charlotte drooping weeps o ' er Werter ' s vrrn I ¦ " While Painting , skilful in pathetic lore , " Colours the scene with pencil dipt in gore , " And Ihro' the tearful eyewith felon art
, , " Seizes the soul , and rends th' impassion'd heart . " No longer shall these honours lead lo fame , " The Tragic Muse shall reassert lier claim : " Hence ye presuming , ye profane , begone — " Be Werter mine—his sorrows are my own 1 " She said indignant , and , at her award , Forth from her vot ' ries sprung a youthful bard—¦ With modest fear he hails the high
command—She gives the strain and guides his trembling hand . The simple tale , thus sanction'd , claims the stage , And Werter now shall grace the Tragic page . Here numbers all their magic softness give , And action bids the story almost live ; Persuasive ardours all their force impart , "With anguish fire , or melt with grief the heart i O may the horrors of the . crimson'd Muse Enforce the moral which this story shews ;
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
To Hope.
"When the pale lamp of life expires , When reason calm , and fancy ' s fires , Have left my panting breast ; O 1 still , my lovely cherub , stay , Ajid bear my parting souf away To realms of endless rest . J . TV ,
Prologue To Werter,
PROLOGUE TO WERTER ,
A TRAGEDY BY MR . REYNOLDS , FIRST SPOKEN AT THE THEATF . E ROYAL , HULL , . JULY 3 , 178 ; . WRITTEN BY J . F . STANFIELD .
WITHIN the glooms of yonder somb'rous grove . In cypress bow'r with myrtles interwove , Sits sadly sorrowing ' thc Tragic Muse , As her stain'd eye the tale of woe pursues ; The feeling . tale , that does the . scene disclose Of Werter ' s sorrows and of Charlotte's woes ; Of hapless Werte ' r torn by keenest smart ,
And wretched Charlotte's sympathising heart . Long o ' er the page the goddess bent her eye , Gave ev ' ry woe a tear , each grief a sigh , 'Till , whelm'd with grief , the volume from her threw ., And from her trembling lips these accents fiew : — " Shall my encroaching sisters still profane " The rightful subjects of my hallow'd . strain ? " Shali they presumptuous seize on Werter ' s woe
, " And impious bid his sacred sorrows flow ? " See History ascend my ebon throne , " And rend the heart with accents not her own ! " See Sculpture tremblingly the marble turn , " Where Charlotte drooping weeps o ' er Werter ' s vrrn I ¦ " While Painting , skilful in pathetic lore , " Colours the scene with pencil dipt in gore , " And Ihro' the tearful eyewith felon art
, , " Seizes the soul , and rends th' impassion'd heart . " No longer shall these honours lead lo fame , " The Tragic Muse shall reassert lier claim : " Hence ye presuming , ye profane , begone — " Be Werter mine—his sorrows are my own 1 " She said indignant , and , at her award , Forth from her vot ' ries sprung a youthful bard—¦ With modest fear he hails the high
command—She gives the strain and guides his trembling hand . The simple tale , thus sanction'd , claims the stage , And Werter now shall grace the Tragic page . Here numbers all their magic softness give , And action bids the story almost live ; Persuasive ardours all their force impart , "With anguish fire , or melt with grief the heart i O may the horrors of the . crimson'd Muse Enforce the moral which this story shews ;