Know, with buffoons I cannot condescend
My page to tarnish and my time to spend:
Crawford, in age, though not in wisdom, grey,
Attempts in vain th’allotted part to play;
Though Abington spreads out her wrinkled arms,
The Widow Belmour now has lost her charms.
O tasteless age, in folly how mature,
Such mad perversion tamely to endure;
Haste, venerable pair, and leave the stage,
For “beads and prayer-books are the toys of age.”
A royal edict issues from the throne,
O! say what brilliant spectacle is shewn?
What constellation sheds its brilliant ray?
Quick is the Georgium Sidus of the play!
By Reynolds taught,[5] see Lewis frisk and climb,
And Follett’s carrots[6] grace the pantomime.