In ev’ry feature rival charms should rise,
  And Cupid hold his empire in her eyes. 
  A soul, with ev’ry elegance refin’d,
  By nature, and the converse of mankind: 
  Wit, which could strike assuming folly dead;
  And sense, which temper’d ev’ry thing she said;
  Judgment, which ev’ry little fault could spy;
  But candour, which would pass a thousand by: 
  Such finish’d breeding, so polite a taste,
  Her fancy always for the fashion pass’d;
  Whilst every social virtue fir’d her breast
  To help the needy, succour the distrest;
  A friend to all in misery she stood,
  And her chief pride was plac’d in doing good. 
  But now, my Muse, the arduous task engage,
  And shew the charming figure on the stage;
  Describe her look, her action, voice and mein,
  The gay coquette, soft maid, or haughty Queen. 
  So bright she shone, in ev’ry different part,
  She gain’d despotic empire o’er the heart;
  Knew how each various motion to control,
  Sooth ev’ry passion, and subdue the soul: 
  As she, o’er gay, or sorrowful appears,
  She claims our mirth, or triumphs in our tears. 
  When Cleopatra’s form she chose to wear
  We saw the monarch’s mein, the beauty’s air;
  Charmed with the sight, her cause we all approve,
  And, like her lover, give up all for love: 
  Anthony’s fate, instead of Caesar’s choose,
  And wish for her we had a world to lose. 
  But now the gay delightful scene is o’er,
  And that sweet form must glad our world no more;
  Relentless death has stop’d the tuneful tongue,
  And clos’d those eyes, for all, but death, too strong,
  Blasted that face where ev’ry beauty bloom’d,
  And to Eternal Rest the graceful Mover doom’d.”

In writing which Savage almost justified his existence.

APPENDIX

THEATRICAL CLAPTRAP

(What Addison has to say about it in the “Spectator”)

No. 44.  FRIDAY, APRIL 20, 1711.

  “Tu quid ego, et populus mecum desideret, audi.” 
  HOR.  ARS POET. ver. 153.

  “Now hear what ev’ry auditor expects.” 
  ROSCOMMON.

Among the several artifices which are put in practice by the poets to fill the minds of an audience with terror, the first place is due to thunder and lightning, which are often made use of at the descending of a god, or the rising of a ghost, at the vanishing of a devil, or at the death of a tyrant.  I have known a bell introduced into several tragedies with good effect; and have seen the whole assembly in a very great alarm all the while it has been ringing.  But there is nothing which delights and terrifies our English theatre so much as a ghost, especially when he appears in a bloody shirt.  A spectre has very often saved a play, though he has done nothing but stalked across the stage, or rose through a cleft