On The Tragedy Of E--A Poem by Cornelius Arnold

E--A scorns to make her Audience weep,
She's better bred,-composes them to sleep;
Là Tendre-Virtue-load the wearied Page,
'Tis a-la-mode Pâri-no buskin Rage-
Not one poor Rhime to animate the Soul;
Believe me, Sir, one Rhime would damn the whole:
Then as for Murder, not for all the World;
The French explode it, from their Stage 'tis hurl'd:
'Tis done, 'tis done-our mighty Shakespear's wreckt,
On French Refinement and a Taste correct.