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Teach him, that states, of native strength poffeft,
Though very poor may still be very bleft;
That trade's proud empire haftes to fwift decay,
As ocean fweeps the labour'd mole away;
While felf-dependent pow'r can time defy,
As rocks refift the billows and the sky.

EPILOGUE

TO THE

SISTERS.

WHAT! five long acts-and all to make us

wifer!

Our Auth'refs fure has wanted an adviser.
Had the confulted me, fhe should have made
Her moral play a fpeaking masquerade;
Warm'd up each bustling fcene, and in her rage
Have emptied all the green-room on the stage.
My life on't, this had kept her play from finking;
Have pleas'd our eyes, and fav'd the pain of
thinking.

Well, fince the thus has fhewn her want of fkill,
What if I give a masquerade ?—I will.
But how? ay, there's the rub! [pausing]-I've
got my cue:

The world's a masquerade! the masquer's, you, [To boxes, pit and gallery.

you, you.

Lud! what a group the motley scene discloses!
Falfe wits, falfe wives, falfe virgins and falfe fpoufes!
Statesmen with bridles on; and, close befide 'em,
Patriots in party-colour'd fuits that ride 'em,
There Hebes, turn'd of fifty, try once more
To raise a flame in Cupids of threefcore;

Thefe

SONG.

Memory! thou fond deceiver,

Still importunate and vain,
To former joys, recurring ever,
And turning all the past to pain;

Thou, like the world, th' oppreft oppreffing,
Thy fmiles increase the wretch's woe!

And he who wants each other bleffing,
In thee must ever find a foe.

SONG

FROM THE

ORATORIO OF THE CAPTIVITY.

THE wretch condemn'd with life to part,

Still, ftill on hope relies;

And ev'ry pang that rends the heart,

Bids expectation rife.

Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light,

Adorns and chears the way;

And still, as darker grows the night,
Emits a brighter ray.

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