Classic Poem

Spoken by Mr. BARRY.

B RITONS , to-night in native pomp we come ,
True heroes all, from virtuous ancient Rome;
In those far distant times when Romans knew
The sweets of guarded liberty, like you;
And, safe from ills which force or faction brings,
Saw freedom reign beneath the smile of kings.
Yet from such times, and such plain chiefs as these,
What can we frame a polish'd age to please?
Say, can you listen to the artless woes
Of an old tale, which every school-boy knows?
Where to your hearts alone the scenes apply,
No merit their's but pure simplicity.
Our bard has play'd a most adventurous part,
And turn'd upon himself the critic's art:
Stripp'd each luxuriant plume from Fancy's wings,
And torn up similies like vulgar things,
Nay even each moral , sentimental, stroke ,
Where not the character, but poet spoke,
He lopp'd, as foreign to his chaste design,
Nor spar'd an useless, tho' a golden line.
These are his arts; if these cannot atone
For all those nameless errors yet unknown;
If, shunning faults which nobler bards commit,
He wants their force to strike th' attentive pit;
Be just, and tell him so; he asks advice,
Willing to learn, and would not ask it twice.
Your kind applause may bid him write — beware!
Or kinder censure teach him to forbear.