8. I saw thee gaze upon my face, Yet meet with no confusion there: One only feeling could'st thou trace; The sullen calmness of despair. 9. Away! away! my early dream Remembrance never must awake: Oh! where is Lethe's fabled stream? My foolish heart be still, or break. FROM THE PORTUGUESE. IN moments to delight devoted, 66 My life!" with tend'rest tone, you cry; IMPROMPTU, IN REPLY TO A FRIEND. WHEN from the heart where Sorrow sits, Her dusky shadow mounts too high, And o'er the changing aspect flits, And clouds the brow, or fills the eye; And droop within their silent cell. ADDRESS, SPOKEN AT THE OPENING OF DRURY-LANE THEATRE, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1812. In one dread night our city saw, and sigh'd, Ye who beheld, (oh! sight admired and mourn'd, Whose radiance mock'd the ruin it adorn'd!) Through clouds of fire, the massy fragments riven, Like Israel's pillar, chase the night from heaven; Saw the long column of revolving flames Shake its red shadow o'er the startled Thames, While thousands, throng'd around the burning dome, Shrank back appall'd, and trembled for their home, As glared the volumed blaze, and ghastly shone The skies, with lightnings awful as their own, Till blackening ashes and the lonely wall Usurp'd the Muse's realm, and mark'd her fall; Say-shall this new, nor less aspiring pile, Yes-it shall be-the magic of that name Defies the scythe of time, the torch of flame; On the same spot still consecrates the scene, And bids the Drama be where she hath been: This fabric's birth attests the potent spellIndulge our honest pride, and say, How well! As soars this fane to emulate the last, Sigh'd his last thanks, and wept his last adieu : With garlands deck your own Menander's head! Dear are the days which made our annals bright, While thus Remembrance borrows Banquo's glass Pause-ere their feebler offspring you condemn, Reflect how hard the task to rival them! Friends of the stage! to whom both Players and Plays Must sue alike for pardon, or for praise, Whose judging voice and eye alone direct The boundless power to cherish or reject; If e'er frivolity has led to fame, And made us blush that you forbore to blame; |