Drooping, alas, we fall to rise no more.
Not one poor trembler only, fear betrays,
Who hopes, yet almost dreads to meet your praise;
But all our Dramatis Personæ wait,
In fond suspense, this crisis of their fate;
No venal views our progress can retard,
Your generous plaudits are our sole reward;
For them each Hero all his power displays,
Each timid Heroine shrinks before your gaze:
Surely these last will some protection find,