How true to Nature's charm! how brightly just!
 It is the Syren's voice, approv'd by Taste:—
The soul of Clive it wakens from the dust,
 With joy that such a wreath her tomb has grac'd.

Ev'n Garrick smiles from his Elysian throne—
 Smiles, without pique, or half-suspended blame!
And Comic Genius, to the Virtues known,
 In Pritchard's love adopts a Rival's name.