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O wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart ;
Here tears shall flow from a more gen'rous cause,
breasts with ancient ardour rise, 15 And calls forth Roman drops from British eyes. Virtue confess'd in human shape he draws, What Plato thought, and godlike Cato was: No common object to your sight displays, But what with pleasure Heav'n itself surveys, 20 A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state. While Cato gives his little Senate laws, What bosom beats not in his Country's cause? Who sees him act, but envies ev'ry deed? 25 Who hears him groan, and does not wish to bleed? Ev’n when proud Cæsar ’midst triumphal cars, The spoils of nations, and the pomp
wars, Ignobly vain and impotently great, Show'd Rome her Cato’s figure drawn in state; 30 As her dead Father's rev'rend image past, The pomp was darken’d, and the day o'ercast;
VER. 20. But what with pleasure] This alludes to a famous passage of Seneca, which Mr. Addison afterwards used as a motte to his play, when it was printed.
The Triumph ceas’d, tears gush'd from ev'ry eye;
Britons, attend: be worth like this approv'd,
45 As Cato's self had not disdain'd to hear.
NOTes, VER. 37. Britons, attend :] Mr. Pope had written it arise, in the spirit of Poetry, and Lberty ; but Mr. Addison frighten’d at so daring an expression, which, he thought, squinted at rebellion, would have it alter'd, in the spirit of Prose and Politics, to attend.
VER. 46. As Cato's self, etc.] This alludes to that famous story of his going into the Theatre, and immediately coming out again,
Mr. Rowe's JANE SHORE,
Design'd for Mrs, OLDFIELD.
Rodigious this! the Frail-one of our Play
From her own Sex should mercy find to-day !
There are, 'tis true, who tell another tale, 15 That virtuous ladies
while they rail;
you enjoy soft nights and folid dinners? Faith, gallants, board with faints, and bed with fin
Well, if our Author in the Wife offends, 25