OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE, On the Appearance of Miss MORRIS in the Character of JULIET, at the THEATRE ROYAL in…

When frighten'd Poets give the Town a Play, Some bold or gentle Prologue leads the way: But when new Players their weak powers engage, And risque their future fortunes on the stage; No Bard appears to plead their desp'rate cause, To silence censure, or bespeak applause. Authors too cautious to direct your choice, Mere empty echoes of the publick voice, With less Poetick Fire than Critick Phlegm, Praise as you praise, and blame what you condemn.

Actors, as Actors feel; and few so fear'd, But well remember when they first appear'd; When sudden tumult shook the lab'ring breast, With Hope, and Fear, and Shame at once possest; When the big tear stood trembling in the eye, And the breath struggled with the rising sigh.

To-night a trembling Juliet fills the Scene, Fearful as young, and really not Eighteen; Cold Icy Fear, like an untimely frost, Lies on her mind, and all her powers are lost. 'Tis your's alone to dissipate her fears, To calm her troubled soul, and dry her tears. Bit with the cank'ring East, the infant rose Its full-blown honours never can disclose: Oh, may no envious Blast, no Critick Blight, Fall on the Tender Plant we rear to-night! So shall it thrive, and in some genial hour, The opening Bud may prove a beauteous Flower.