Classic Poem

Dropt in Mr. G ARRICK 's Temple of Shakespeare .

While here to Shakespeare G ARRICK pays
His tributary thanks and praise;
Invokes the animated stone,
To make the Poet's mind his own;
That he each character may trace
With humour, dignity, and grace;
And mark, unerring mark, to men,
The rich creation of his Pen;

 Preferr'd the pray'r—the marble God
Methinks I see, assenting, nod,
And, pointing to his laurell'd brow,
Cry—“Half this Wreath to you I owe:
“Lost to the Stage, and lost to Fame;
“Murder'd my Scenes, scarce known my Name;
“Sunk in oblivion and disgrace
“Among the common, scribbling race,
“Unnotic'd long thy Shakespeare lay,
“To Dullness, and to Time, a prey:
“But now I rise, I breathe, I live
“In You—my Representative!
“Again the Hero's breast I fire,
“Again the tender sigh inspire;
“Each side, again, with laughter shake,
“And teach the villain-heart to quake;
“All this, my Son! again I do—
“I?—No, my Son!—'Tis I, and You.

 While thus the grateful Statue speaks,
A blush o'erspreads the Suppliant's cheeks—
 “What!—Half this Wreath, Wit's mighty Chief?—
“O grant,” he cries, “one single Leaf;
“That far o'erpays his humble merit,
“Who's but the organ of thy spirit.”

  Phœbus the gen'rous contest heard—
When thus the God address'd the Bard:
“Here, take this Laurel from my brow,
“On Him your mortal Wreath bestow;—
“Each matchless, each the Palm shall bear,
“In Heav'n the Bard , on Earth the P LAY'R .