PROLOGUE

TO LILLO'S ELMERICK .

N O labour'd scenes to-night adorn our stage;
Lillo's plain sense would here the heart engage:
He knew no art, no rule, but warmly thought
From passion's force, and as he felt, he wrote.
His Barnwell once, no critic's test could bear,
Yet, from each eye, still draws the natural tear.
With generous candour, hear his latest strains,
And let kind Pity shelter his remains.
Depress'd by want, afflicted by disease,
Dying he wrote, and dying, wish'd to please.
Oh! may that wish be now humanely paid,
And no harsh critic vex his gentle shade!
'Tis yours, his unsupported same to save,
And bid one laurel grace his humble grave.