We speak with Christian tongues to Christian
men: |
Doing the while this service to the Bard, |
That the rare beauty of his classic wit |
We by our pruning make more beautiful. |
O happy art, which Terence never knew, |
But they have learned, who aim in every thing |
To choose the good, and pass the evil by! |
These, as they pace the tangled path of life, |
Cleanse from this earth its earthly dross away, |
And clothe it with a pure supernal light. |
Neighbours and friends, what I have more to
say,— |
It is not much,— concerns our actors here, {378} |
Fresh tender souls, and palpitating hearts, |
Boys, who, tho' boys, essay the parts of men, |
And are the first within this Catholic fold |
To represent a classic comedy. |
Be kind,—they strive with no inglorious aim; |
Where they do well, applaud; and, if in aught |
They shall come short, be mild and merciful. |
Prologue enough; let Davus enter now, |
And lend his ear, while Geta tells his tale. |
The Oratory.
1864. |