41544 ANNUAL REGISTER, hn 
Basely allur’d her into Folly’s course, ‘ 
Then curs’d his fate, and sued out a divorce: “wa 
Unjust at Fortune’s cruelty to rail, 
When we make all the miseries we bewail. 
Ah ! generous patrons, on whose breath depends" 
The fortune of the muse, and us her friends 3; 
If, in your grace, this night you shall bestow 
One sprig of laurel for your poet’s brow, 
Impart to me your flattering commands, 
And sign them with the SWiK" of your hands, 
ADDRESS spoken by Mrs. Sippons, at her Benefit, and written by Sam. 
Rogers, Esq. Author of the Pleasures ws Memorys, 
ES, ’tis the pulse of life! my fears were vain! 
I wake, I breathe, and am my self again, 
Still in this nether world ! no seraph yet ! : 
Wor walks my spirit when the sun is set, 
With troubled step to haunt the fatal board, 
Where I died tast—by poison or the sword ; 
And blanch each honest cheek with deeds of night, 
Done heré so oft by dim and doubtful light. 
—To drop all metaphor, that little bell 
Call’d back reality and’ broke the spell, 
No heroine claims your tears with tragic tone ; 
A very woman—scarce restrains her own! 
Can she, with fiction, charm the cheated mind, 
When to be grateful is the part assign’d ? 
Ah, No ! she scorns the trappings of her art's" 
No theme but truth, no prompter but the heart. 
Bat, Ladies, say, must I alone iecoes 
Is here no other actress ? let me ask. 
Believe me, those who best the heart dissect, 
Know every woman studies stage-effect. 
She moulds her manners to the parts she fills, | 
As instinct teaches, or as humour wills ; 
And, as the grave or gay her talent calls, 
Acts in the drama till the curtain falls. 
First, how her little breast with triumph swells, 
When the red coral rings its silver bells ! 
To play in pantomime is then the rage ; 
Along the carpet’s many-colour’d stage ; 
Or lisp her merry thoughts with loud endeavour, 
Now here; now there,—in noise and mischief ever ! 
Aschool 
