To Mr. Scutbern's last Play

CALLED MONEY THE MISTRESS .

There was a time when, in his younger years,
Our author's scenes commanded smiles or tears;
And tho' beneath the weight of days he bends,
Yet like the sun he shines as he descends:
Then with applause, in honour to his age,
Dismiss your vet'ran soldier of the stage;
Crown his last exit with distinguish'd praise,
And kindly hide his baldness with the bays.