How long perverted, had the Comic scene,
(The flattering reflex of a sensual age)
Shown prurient Folly's rank licentious mien,
Refined, embellish'd on the pander stage:

While Vanburgh, Congreve, Farquhar, heaven-endow'd,
To scourge bold Vice with Wit's resistless rod,
Embraced her chains, stood forth her priests avow'd,
And scatter'd flowers in every path she trod:

Inglorious praise! though Judgment's self admired
Those wanton strains which Virtue blush'd to hear;
While pamper'd Passion from the scene retired,
With wilder rage to urge his fierce career.

At length, all graced in Fancy's orient hues,
His native fires with added culture bright,
Rose SHERIDAN! to vindicate the Muse,
And gild the drama with meridian light.

Him, skill'd alike great Nature's genuine form,
Or Fashion's light factitious traits to trace,
The scene confess'd;--with glowing pathos warm,
Or gaily sportive in familiar grace.

With what nice art his master-hand he flung
O'er each fine chord which thrills the polish'd breast,
Let Faukland tell! with woes ideal stung;
Let gentle Julia's generous flame attest![1]