address

spoken by miss fontenelle on her benefit night, december 4th, 1793, at the theatre, dumfries.

still anxious to secure your partial favour,

and not less anxious, sure, this night, than ever,

a prologue, epilogue, or some such matter,

'twould vamp my bill, said i, if nothing better;

so sought a poet, roosted near the skies,

told him i came to feast my curious eyes;

said, nothing like his works was ever printed;

andst, my prologue-business slily hinted.

“ma'am, let me tell you,” h my man of rhymes,

“i know your bent—these are noughing times:

can you—but, miss, i own i have my fears—

dissolve in pause, and sentimental tears;

withden sighs, and solemn-rounded sentence,

rouse from his ish slumbers, fell repentance;

paint vengeance as he takes his horrid stand,

waving on high the desting brand,

calling the storms to bear him o'er a guiltynd?”

i could no more—askance the creature eyeing,

“d'ye think,” said i, “this face was made for crying?

i'llugh, that's poz-nay more, the world shall know it;

and so, your servant! gloomy master poet!”