THE ROSCIAD.
21
Struck with her grief, I catch the madness too! 465
My brain turns round! The headless trunk I view!
The roof cracks, shakes, and falls!—New horrors rise,
And Reason buried in the ruin lies.
My brain turns round! The headless trunk I view!
The roof cracks, shakes, and falls!—New horrors rise,
And Reason buried in the ruin lies.
Nobly disdainful of each slavish art,
She makes her first attack upon the heart: 470
Pleas'd with the summons, it receives her laws;
And all is, silence, sympathy, applause.
She makes her first attack upon the heart: 470
Pleas'd with the summons, it receives her laws;
And all is, silence, sympathy, applause.
But when, by fond Ambition drawn aside,
Giddy with praise, and puff'd with female pride,
She quits the tragic scene, and, in pretence 475
To comic merit, breaks down Nature's fence;
I scarcely can believe my ears and eyes,
Or find out C–bb–r through the dark disguise.
Giddy with praise, and puff'd with female pride,
She quits the tragic scene, and, in pretence 475
To comic merit, breaks down Nature's fence;
I scarcely can believe my ears and eyes,
Or find out C–bb–r through the dark disguise.
Pritchard, by Nature for the stage design'd,
In person graceful, and in sense refin'd; 480
Her Art as much as Nature's friend became,
Her voice as free from blemish as her fame.
Who knows so well in majesty to please,
Attemper'd with the graceful charms of ease?
In person graceful, and in sense refin'd; 480
Her Art as much as Nature's friend became,
Her voice as free from blemish as her fame.
Who knows so well in majesty to please,
Attemper'd with the graceful charms of ease?
When
