George Colman

While Garrick drives, with Shakespeare's Scenes,
To court th' assembled Town,
His Rival Colman only means
To make his own go down.

On Fletcher's Wing, with borrow'd Life,
Barsanti soar'd to Fame;
Then perch'd upon the Jealous Wife,
And down again she came.

The Eagle, tow'ring to his Height,
May shew the Wren the Skies,
Who soon must fall — to bear her Weight
When some Cock-Sparrow tries.

The Tragic Muse, with Powell dead,
Saw Colman's Hopes Decay,
And whisper'd Yates, who quickly fled
"O'er Hill and far away."

Her Comic Sister stay'd a While,
For Goldsmith's Sake she stay'd;
And Scandal, in her usual Stile,
Cries out, he keeps the Maid.

And (as 'tis true she's brought to Bed)
We hope he ne'er will drop her;
We can't be griev'd as Shakespeare said,
"The Issue is so proper."