Verses On Seeing The Tragedy Of The Regent. To Bertie Greathead, Esq.

VERSES ON SEEING THE TRAGEDY OF THE REGENT.

TO BERTIE GREATHEAD, ESQ.

AWAKE, ye Nymphs of Avon's stream, Of Shakspeare's verse the fav'rite theme; No more within that sparry cave, Whose mouth Avonia's waters lave; On coral beds in grief recline, But round your brows the laurel twine; Again by Cynthia's pallid beam, Be seen amid the glassy stream; O chaunt again that Doric strain, Ye learn'd of Avon's tuneful swain; And with you bring the breathing lute, For ages lost, for ages mute, That Genius erst on him bestow'd, Whose pictur'd breast with fancy glow'd; For wak'd by notes that oft have charm'd, Again by hallow'd frenzy warm'd.

Hark! Echo quits her mossy bed, And scarce believes her Shakspeare dead; Again, by Avon's silver stream A Bard resumes great Nature's theme; Spurning the rules of sordid art, Guided but by a feeling heart; From Nature's self the picture draws, Confin'd by none but Nature's laws; To Fancy's realm the daring wight On eagle wing pursues his flight; And wand'ring blest those bow'rs among, Where Shakspeare's self unrival'd sung; As straying 'mid the holy wood, For you, fair sisters of the flood; A blooming wreath behold him twine, A wreath immortal and divine.