Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/167

And taught the actors with a stately air
And mien to speak, and tread, and whatsoe'er
Gave port and grandeur to the theatre.
Next this, succeeded ancient comedy,
With good applause, till too much liberty,
Usurped by writers, had debauched the stage,
And made it grow the grievance of the age;
No merit was secure, no person free
From its licentious buffoonery;
Till for redress the magistrate was fain
By law those insolencies to restrain.
Our authors in each kind their praise may claim,
Who leave no paths untrod that lead to fame;
And well they merit it, who scorned to be
So much the vassals of antiquity,
As those who know no better than to cloy
With the old musty tales of Thebes and Troy,
But boldly the dull beaten track forsook,
And subjects from our country-story took.
Nor would our nation less in wit appear,
Than in its great performances of war,
Were there encouragements to bribe our care,
Would we to file and finish spare the pains,
And add but justness to our manly sense.
But, sir, let nothing tempt you to belie
Your skill and judgment, by mean flattery;
Never pretend to like a piece of wit,
But what you're certain is correctly writ;
But what has stood all tests, and is allowed
By all to be unquestionably good.
Because some wild enthusiasts there be,
Who bar the rules of art in poetry,
Would have it rapture all, and scarce admit
A man of sober sense to be a wit;
Others by this conceit have been misled
So much, that they're grown statutably mad;
The sots affect to be retired alone,
Court; solitude, and conversation shun,