Prologue, spoken by Mr. Garrick, at the open-

WHEN Learning's triumph o'er her barbarous

foes First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakspeare

rose;

Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, Exhausted worlds, and then imagined new : Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting Time toil'd after him in vain. His powerful strokes presiding Truth im-

press'd,

And unresisted Passion storm'd the breast. Then Jonson came, instructed from the

school,

To please in method, and invent by rule ; His studious patience and laborious art By regular approach assail'd the heart : Cold approbation gave the lingering bays, For those, who durst not censure, scarce could

praise.

A mortal born, he met the general doom, But left, like Egypt's kings, a lasting tomb. The Wits of Charles found easier ways to

fame, Nor wish'd for Jonson's art, or Shakspeare's

flame; Themselves they studied, as they felt they writ ;

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