Too long the Tragick Muse hath awâd the stage, And frightenâd wives and children with her rage, Too long Drawcansir roars, Parthenope weeps, While evâry lady cries, and critick sleeps With ghosts, rapes, murders, tender hearts they wound, Or else, like thunder, terrify with sound When the skillâd actress to her weeping eyes, With artful sigh, the handkerchief applies, How grievâd each sympathizing nymph appears!
Too long the Tragick Muse hath awâd the stage, And frightenâd wives and children with her rage, Too long Drawcansir roars, Parthenope weeps, While evâry lady cries, and critick sleeps With ghosts, rapes, murders, tender hearts they wound, Or else, like thunder, terrify with sound When the skillâd actress to her weeping eyes, With artful sigh, the handkerchief applies, How grievâd each sympathizing nymph appears!