Prologue

Not from the present moment springs our play, Th' events which gave it birth are past away— Five glowing moons have chas'd night's shades from earth, Since the war fled which gave our Drama birth. "Not smiling peace o'er RUSSIA's wide-spread land "Wav'd gently then, her sceptre of command. "No! thousands rush'd at red ambition's call, "With mad'ning rage to triumph—or to fall. "'Twas then our female bard from BRITAIN'S shore "Was led by fancy to the distant roar"— 'Twas then she saw sweet virgins captives made, 'Twas then she saw the cheek of beauty fade, Whilst the proud soldier in ignoble chains, Was from his country dragg'd to hostile plains.

Thus was her bold imagination fired When battle with its horrid train retired; Yet, sure the story which she then combin'd, Should not to drear oblivion be resign'd— No—let it still your various passions raise, And to have touch'd them, oft', has been her praise: Trusting to candour, she solicits here, Your smile of pleasure, or your pity's tear; For tho' the time is past, the FEELING true, She dedicates to NATURE, and to YOU!