Merryman

This cant about posterity I hate; About posterity were I to prate, Who then the living would amuse? For they Will have diversion, ay, and 'tis their due. A sprightly fellow's presence at your play, Methinks should also count for something too; Whose genial wit the audience still inspires, Knows from their changeful mood no angry feeling; A wider circle he desires, To their heart's depths more surely thus appealing. To work, then! Give a master-piece, my friend; Bring Fancy with her choral trains before us, Sense, reason, feeling, passion, but attend! Let folly also swell the tragic chorus.