TO E. SIMPSON, ESQ.,
ON WITNESSING THE REPRESENTATION OF THE NEW TRAGEDY
OF BRUTUS.
have been every night, whether empty or crowded,
And taken my seat in your Box No. 3;
In a sort of poetical Scotch mist I’m shrouded,
As the far-famed Invisible Girl used to be.
As a critic professed, ’tis my province to flout you,
And hiss as they did at poor Charley’s34 Macheath;
But all is so right and so proper about you,
That I’m forced to be civil in spite of my teeth.
In your dresses and scenery, classic and clever;
Such invention! such blending of old things and new!
Let Kemble’s proud laurels be withered forever!
Wear the wreath, my dear Simpson, ’tis fairly your due.
How apropos now was that street scene in Brutus,
Where the sign “Coffee-House” in plain English was writ!
