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part with great spirit, and even bold in male disguise. The audience were much pleased with her exertions, and (he was honoured with repeated tokens of approbation.


September 171 This theatre commenced its career this evening with the Castle Spellre and the Prize. Miss Biggs, Miss De Camp, Mrs. Walcot, Mr. Bannister, Mr. C. Kemble, Mr. PalMer, £ic.\vere greeted with reiterated plaudits. The interior of the house remains much the fame; for taste and genius have already exhausted themselves in the decorations by which it has been embellished on a former occasion. The fronts of the boxes, indeed, have been burnished into their native brightness; and the entire coup d'ceilhss a grand effect.

We shall now have to record, in this, our Dramatic Register, the novelties of these two great theatres during the ensuing winter. Even the ghosts and apparitions which may be introduced in grissly array, shall not affright us j we shall at least attempt to grasp the phantoms, and present them, with their pallid charms, to the eye of gaping curiosity.






Aurea Libertas, canimus tua dorta, Britanni!

I. I.

'HAT time in glitl'iing armour drest,

The Roman wav'd his plumy crest,

And, ruining-to the glorious war,

Britannia drove her scythed car;

The goddess freedom took her stand,

Triumphant on this rocky strand.
In vain the British breast is gor'd;

Again they bleed, again they die;

Urg'd by the love of liberty,

Unconquer'd still they wield the sword.

At length the regions of the north

Pour'd a resistless deluge forth;

Rome bows—she falls, p.nd Britain free

Spurns the base yoke of slavery:
O'er all the land the light of freedom (bone,
And independance grae'd her facred throne.

At Hengist's fable arms dismay'd,
Away the trembling goddess fled,

Voi.VIlI. G

On Cambria's rocks (he six'd her reign,
And gloried in her bleak domain i
Yet still her sons for glory burn,
Her heroes bleed, her widows mourn.
Pale mis'ry cril'd the aid of death,
Jell flaughter (hakes her fun'ral brand,
The tyrant wastes the groaning land,

And carnage dyes the crimfon'd heath.
Far from the rage of feepter'd pow'r, -
Where Snowdon's rocky summits low.r,
Thou, goddess, badst thy flame still glow,
Encircled with eternal snow;
G'er the rude coast thy awful glories shine,
And great Plinliromon hails thy reign divine-1

I>ong, in varn, thetyrant tried

To scale the shaggy mountain's side:

Hark! 'tis the din of battle loud,

That sounds o'er Conway's distant flood;

Fearless, 'midst an host of foes,

Breast to breast thy chiefs oppose.

Heard ye the shout of victory?
Rushing from yon airy height
They drive the flaves in headlong flight—

They fall, they bleed, they die.
Red ran the stream, and warriors flain,
With carnage heap'd the purple plain;
The free-born Cambrian, 'midst the clash of arms,
Nods his terrisic crest and smiles at war's alarms.

H. i.

Beneath the Norman's tyrant pow'r
Britannia funk in evil hour.
Where is thy patriot-spirit fled?
Fall'n is the consecrated * head;
On Hastings' plain, in glorious strife,
The monarch lost his sacred .life;

* Harold.

Bcsmear'd with blood a corse he lay, Long time for him did Britain mourn, Her heroes bleed, her cities burn,

Her harvests fall.—to force a prey. Ah! lost is all that wonted sire, That whilom did your breasts inspire; Beneath the fl raw-built roof, unstrung, Each -Briton's useless bow is hung, •Whilst proud oppression calls her vengesul bandj And rules with iron sway the wasted land.


At length in shining arms array'd,

Again they call thy pow'rsul aid;

The lion rears his tawny breast*

Fierce rising from the bed of rest;

He roars, he spurns the servile chain,

And vindicates his just domain.
With angry blows his sides resound,

His eye-balls glare, his sury glows;

Eager to meet his tyrant foes,

With rage inflam'd he tears the ground:

With breathless haste before him fly

The trembling train of tyranny.

Thou, goddess, to the brave a friend,

Come, from thy cloud-capt hills descend;
O'er the blest isle difsuse thy genial ray,
Let Britain smile beneath returning day,

U. ,.

Thou can'st wake the warlike soul,
Shiv'ring near th inclement pole,
.Or, scorch'd beneath the torrid rays,
Where beams the sun's meridian blaze.
Long on Snowdon's haughty brow,
Frowning o'er the wave below,

Fair freedom took her armed stand:
Issuing to the fertile plain,
That willing own'd her gentle reign,

She frees her fav'ritc land.

G z

At Runcmede, in gorgeous state,

Her daring sons the goddess met; Rous'd by the hopes her chearing smiles inspire, Each British bosom flames with more than mortal 6re.


Encircled by his Barons bold,

Where shone the tent with waving gold,

The tyrant king, no longer free,

The charter signs of liberty.

The trumpet swells it's brazen throat,

And fame straight caught the lofty note.

Freed from a monarch's angry nod,
Britannia then her bondage broke,
With scorn she spurns the galling yoke,

No more she dreads th' oppressor's rod.
O'er ev'ry hill and vale around,
Th' exulting strains of joy resound,
Whilst shaking high the glitt'ring lance,
Dauntless she leads the Pyrrhic dance;
Now rang the echoing woods with loud applause,
Whilst Britain gives her haughty sov'reign laws.

III. z.

O'er Albion's unpolluted groves,

The silver-phimeil goddess roves;

The sirst and fairest os the train,

Science adorn'd her peacesul reign,

The lofty nymph, to whom belong

The golden lyre, th' immortal song.
Oft were her midnight footsteps seer>>

By heav'nly contemplation led,

Slow wand'ring o'er the dewy mead,
Where, winding thro' the daisied green,

Avon's smooth stream in chrystal pride,

Reflects each flow'ret by its side;

Oft watching in the starry sphere,

The motions of the various year:
From Pindar's groves she calls the tunesul nine.
And Britain's shore receives the train divine.

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